Page 63 of The Sister's Curse
“Sounds like you’ve dealt with them before.”
“Let’s just say they’ll close ranks and not take this lying down. But this is the right thing to do.”
I agreed, and went back for Leah. She was hugging Gibby and sobbing into his ruff.
“Leah,” I said gently.
She looked up at me with a tear-streaked face. She seemed so very young then. “I’m ready.”
We walked around the gas station, to the car. My gaze rested on the graffiti on the door.
“Do you know what that is?” I asked her, pointing to the ouroboros.
Her eyes quickly slid away. “No.”
She might have been lying. Or just scared. I couldn’t tell.
I opened the car door for her, and she climbed in. Gibby clambered in after her, and we headed off into the dark.
“What’s going to happen to my dad?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But that’s not for you to worry about.”
We pulled up before a two-story farmhouse. The lights were on. I walked Leah up to the door, which was immediately opened by a couple who looked to be in their fifties. The man was sunburned and wearing overalls, while the woman had indelible smile lines.
“Hi, Leah,” the woman said. “I’m Margie, and this is Dave.”
“Hi.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
“We promise to keep you safe.” Dave stuck his calloused hand out to her.
Leah took it and shook it.
They took her inside. I had a good feeling about the two of them. They seemed…normal. Good. And goodness was a rare thing in this world.
I just hoped Leah could stay with them as long as she needed to, and that the Kings of Warsaw Creek didn’t pull strings to get her back into Sims’s basement by morning.
—
I wanted to be the one to tell Sims that his daughter was safe. Safe from him.
I drove toward the parsonage. Just as I was about to pull into the church parking lot, a black vintage Mercedes peeled out of the lot and disappeared down the road in a flare of brake lights and screech of tires.
That was Sims’s car.
I gripped the steering wheel and floored the accelerator. I slapped my magnetic bubblegum light on the roof of my car and lit it up. Red and blue light flashed into the darkness, and Sims hurtled through the night.
Cool night air slid through my hair, and my lips peeled back into a smile. I had only intended to inform him that Leah had been found safely, and not to tip my hand by arresting him right away. I was going to gather bulletproof evidence and bury him. But he was going to make this easy. He wasn’t pulling over, so I was going to pop him for fleeing and eluding.
As he zipped over hills and into valleys, I radioed for backup. Beside me, Gibby hung his head out the window, as thrilled by the chase as I was.
“You sorry son of a bitch,” I hissed at Sims. “You’re not getting away from me.”
I got close to him, feet from his bumper. He was the only one in the car. My headlights flashed off his mirrors and his round glasses. He caught a little bit of air with his car on one hill, and then his ancient undercarriage slammed down on the pavement with sparks. He swerved between the lines.
“Oh God. If he’s drunk, too, this is my lucky night.”
We came out of the two-lane road to the Silver Bridge crossing the Copperhead River. Where the hell was he going? Out of state?
