All the Inside Howling (Hollow Folk #2)(30)

“You said you liked it!”

Austin let out a sigh. “You’re hopeless. You know that, right?”

“So I’m unromantic and antisocial. Is that it?”

For a moment, Austin’s face was serious as he considered the question. He nodded gravely. “You’re also very cute.”

“Oh my god.” I shook my head. “Tonight. Seven?”

“So that’s a yes to dinner with my family tomorrow and a yes to a birthday make-up of my choosing?”

“God, yes. Fine.”

“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at your place.”

I shook my head. “I’ll call you and let you know where I am.”

Austin’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure everything’s ok?”

I gave him a peck and got out of the car. “Talk to you later.”

“Not one more step,” he said, sliding out of the car and coming after me with a speed that surprised me. He latched onto my wrist.

“Really?” I asked. “I swear, everything is ok.”

“Everything will be ok,” he corrected, and then held up the white paper bag. “As soon you as you take your first pill.”





When Austin had finished mothering me, I escaped and headed back into town, while he went back to mowing. I’ll admit, I took a few long, lingering glances behind me as I left. The boy was doing a damned fine job mowing. Just a damned fine job. As soon as he was out of sight, though, I put him out of my mind. It was just after two. I had to be at the party at seven, which meant I had to call Austin by around six. That gave me four hours to look for River. Or, more realistically, four hours to look for River’s killer. And I knew exactly where to start.

By early afternoon, Eighth Street was no longer deserted, although it could pass for abandoned from a block away. On the far sidewalk, an elderly woman pushed a shopping cart. It had a broken wheel that forced her to push it at an angle, skidding along the cement and bumping at every crack and rise. On my side of the street, a pair of Indian guys stood smoking outside a tobacco shop. The glass display held a single piece of scrap fabric as a half-hearted attempt at decoration and two bongs. I was guessing that the tobacco shop sold more than just tobacco. When I passed the guys, one of them nodded at me, and the other ignored me. The old lady continued on her way, the cart clattering along with its stuck wheel.

I took Eighth Street because I wanted to get to Jigger Boss from the employee lot. At this time of day, a few cars were parked there, but no fancy black town car. If I were lucky, that meant Lawayne wouldn’t be here. Maybe he was at Slippers, where he had his office. Maybe he was at home. Maybe he was out knocking up a teenage girl, as he had Samantha. Maybe he was getting rid of River’s body. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

When I passed the Dumpster, I gave it a quick glance, but nothing had changed since my search earlier. I marched to the stainless steel door at the back of the building, raised my hand, and for a moment I thought of that thing—a beast, I thought, the beast—waiting for me, waiting to rip through two inches of solid steel and then rip through me as well. But that was crazy. That had been a dream. Still, the cut on my neck throbbed as I rapped on the door.

It opened a moment later, and a girl with bushy hair poked her head out. She smiled when she saw me, and her wide-set eyes blinked rapidly. In the cooling weather, she wore a long-sleeve shirt and jeans, but the tattoos on her legs and arms, mostly snakes, still showed when fabric slipped up.

“It’s a hero,” she said, shouldering the door open. “It’s a small-town, our-town, honest-to-God hero. Vehpese’s own kind of wonderful.”

“This is why I didn’t come here.”

“If my back weren’t breaking from that last shipment, I’d drop down and kiss your nasty old sneakers. I never thought I’d have an honor like this. I mean, my hair’s not washed, I should have worn a gown, I—”

“Please shut up.”

Her smile curved wickedly. “Where’s that boy you seduced into your evil ways?”

“This is such a fucking small town. Are you going to let me in, or are you going to keep trying to annoy me?”

“I’m not trying. Give me a little credit. You’re all red around the ears.”

“It’s cold. My ears are red because it’s freezing and you’re keeping me standing out in the cold.”

“You’re a baby. It’s fifty degrees. Maybe forty.”

Remy, if she had any good qualities, seemed determined not to show them. Ever. At least, not while I was around. She seemed to enjoy making me squirm, and since she couldn’t do that very often, she settled for just trying to piss me off. Still, there was this crackling liveliness to her, this sense that she was 100% alive, certified, in a way most people weren’t. And that made it easier to put up with her general efforts to drive me crazy. We’d met towards the end of my search for Samantha’s killer, and although we’d had a brief rocky patch when Remy confronted me about being gay, our relationship had eased into a casual friendship.

Rolling her eyes so hard they looked likely to drop out of her face, Remy motioned for me to step inside. When the steel door swung shut behind me, I blinked to adjust to the relative gloom. We stood in a service hallway at the back of Jigger Boss, Vehpese’s only club and one of its more reputable drinking establishments. The smell of lemon cleaner filled the hallway, and underneath it was a woody, sawdust scent. Remy watched my face as she settled against the wall, rolling a cleaning rag around one hand.