Page 32 of Lake
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bridget
I stomped my way back to Lake’s room. Yes, I knew it was childish and maybe a tad bit pointless, but I still did it. I had to get my frustration out somehow and as much as I felt like punching something, I knew it was best to just tuck that feeling away. It seemed like Lake was already scared enough of me and my fists.
Once I reached his room, my aggravation and frustration blew up as I tried to turn the door handle only to find it locked. My open palm met the hard metal and I let out a very angry warrior growl. I wasn’t proud about it but it did make me feel slightly better.
With a sigh, I turned around and plopped down onto my ass.
At least I had my mostly charged phone on me. I dreaded making the call to Art but I had put it off long enough. I was sure he was worried about me.
Maybe.
Just a little bit.
“Atwater Private Investigators.”
He always answered the phone the same way, no matter if it was his desk phone or his cell. And he never looked at who was calling.
“Hey, Art, it’s me,” I said and I could hear the dread in my tone.
“You made it, kid?”
“Yeah, I made it.” Just barely, but whatever. “One problem though, my car broke down when I got here.”
“Oh,” he grunted.
“Yeah, so I might be stuck here for a while because I don’t even have a way to get around right now and well…”
“Yeah, I got it,” he replied because he understood just how tight things were right now. “Can you get it fixed?”
“Sure,” I said, somehow managing to sound confident in that. “But it will take like a week.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Yep.” And I waited for it because I knew he couldn’t resist saying something.
“Told you to trade that shit-bucket in before it broke down on you.”
“I know, Art. I know.”
“So what are you going to do?” he asked though I sort of felt like he was only half listening for the answer.
“I don’t know,” I said with a sigh.
“You’ll figure it out,” he mumbled before I had the chance to say it myself.
“I always do.” I let out a little laugh.
“Keep me updated, kid.”
“I will.”
Then he was gone. He wasn’t one to linger and the man hated to talk on the phone more than anyone.
My head fell against the rough wall behind me and I didn’t even fight my lids as they fell closed. The air was cool but the sun was warm on my legs.
I had absolutely no idea how I was going to get out of this. No clue how I was going to pay to have my car fixed. Or where I was going to get the money to stay at a motel. Or how I was going to get back home. I almost wished Art would have turned this case down especially since it was so far from home.
