Lucky(14)

The lynx didn’t move.

Lucky stepped off the stump and backed away, still admonishing the animal in her firmest, surest voice. “You just… you just watch out, okay?” The lynx watched her for another moment, then turned and disappeared into the brush. She kept backing up, afraid to turn. When she bumped up against a warm, moving thing, she screamed.

“It’s just me! It’s just your dad! Lucky, thank goodness! I ran as fast as I could, but I couldn’t find you.”

She’d never heard her father sound scared. She’d been livid with him before, but now she pressed her face into his chest and smelled his familiar scent: those vanilla cigarillos he liked to smoke, and a subtle spicy aftershave, and the onions from the rooming house, and just him, the familiar scent of the only parent she had ever known. She stayed that way, with her head bowed into his chest, for a long moment before looking up at him. How could she ever have believed she’d be fine on her own?

“There’s something out there,” she began, her voice wavering now. “A big, scary cat.”

“I know that, kiddo. I saw you, standing on that stump, giving that lynx what-for. And then—well, you saw it! That big cat just took right off. And do you know why?”

Lucky’s head was still swimming with panic, so she didn’t know how to answer.

“Because it’s like I always said. You’re more than lucky. You’re not like other kids at all, not like other people. You have special powers. You’re magic. You know that, right?” Her father crouched down and lifted her onto his shoulders. “Nothing can hurt us, Lucky! Not as long as we’re together. You understand that? But we have to stay together.”

She felt relief as the edge of the woods came into her line of vision, and the trees began to thin out. Soon they were back on the path she had taken into the woods in the first place, and the log-cabin-style rooming house was near.

Her father set her down just outside the back gate, which was swinging open, blowing gently in the night breeze. “We need to stick together. You understand? Just because you’re special doesn’t mean you’re ready to go off on your own. You still have a lot to learn.”

“I understand, Dad.”

“And besides, we’re all we’ve got. You and me. I’m the only person you can trust.” He walked ahead of her, through the gate and into the house. She ran to keep up so she wouldn’t be left alone outside.

“Wash the dirt from your feet and warm up. I’ll make us something to eat,” he said when they were back inside.

Later, she came out of the bath, her hair wet and combed down her back. She picked the scissors up from the table and cut the rest of her hair off herself.





CHAPTER FIVE


The tour bus rumbled down the Nevada desert highway and Lucky hummed to herself as she looked out the window. She had recently read an article about how singing and humming helped with anxiety, but it wasn’t helping hers.

She lifted her sunglasses and rubbed her eyes, which were bleary from staying up all night haunting the northern strip. She had gone to an internet café and made a few attempts to access the offshore account she and Cary had opened. But it had disappeared. She had no access to the money. When her time had run out, she left the café and walked up and down the strip, waiting for dawn, when the bus tour she was planning to take to the Grand Canyon would be leaving. Going on a bus tour was the last thing Lucky wanted to do. But she was still pretending to be Bonnie Skinner. And Bonnie sure was excited to be heading off to see one of the wonders of the world.

She had checked the news: their car had been found in the underground lot of the Bellagio, so the police knew she and Cary—or, rather, David Ferguson and Alaina Cadence had come to Las Vegas. They were looking for a couple, though, not a woman alone. And they wouldn’t be checking tour buses. Wanted criminals didn’t generally go on sightseeing tours.

She stopped humming when a man sat down in the aisle seat beside her. She had seen him when they were getting on the bus. Middle-aged, forgettable face, wearing shorts and a T-shirt. She had thought he seemed familiar, but then he had passed her seat and disappeared to the back of the bus. Now here he was. Why had he moved to sit beside her? Not everyone is a threat, she told herself. Maybe his seat mate wouldn’t stop talking to him. Maybe sitting at the back of the bus made him carsick. She kept taking small glances at him, small sips she hoped he wouldn’t notice. Brown hair, brown eyes, wedding ring. She had seen him somewhere, she knew it. But where? At the casino? In one of the shops she’d been to? Or did he just have one of those faces everyone thought they had seen before?

The man caught her staring and she smiled tightly. He didn’t smile back. She started humming again and folded her hands protectively over her belt pack.

“Isn’t it so exciting?” she said to him, thinking if she got too chatty maybe he’d move again. “Going to see the Grand Canyon? Definite bucket-list item.”

“Sure, real exciting,” the man said.

“Could you please excuse me? I just need to use the little girls’ room.” He didn’t stand for her, or even move his legs, so she had to squeeze past, feeling herself recoil as her leg rubbed against his. Run. Run. But there was nowhere to go.

In the tiny washroom, she checked her makeup. There was no need to reapply. Her skin was now sallow-looking all on its own, her eyes red and tired. She looked away from her reflection and unzipped the belt bag, slid the bills out and counted them, then began to distribute them among her bra, her pockets, a few extra bills in her shoes. Soon, all that was left in her wallet was her lottery ticket. She pulled it out, looked down at it for a moment and wondered when the draw was, then put it back. She clipped the bag around her waist again and left the bathroom.