Page 24 of Taken for Granite
Estimating Tas’ foot size, she picked the biggest pair of men’s slides she could find. His feet had looked human in shape. Sort of. Honestly, she spent more time staring at his wings than his feet. She grabbed another pair of pants for him, as well.
She briefly debated where she should grab a box of hair dye. Her vivid blue dye job was too darn noticeable but decided to wear the hood up on her hoodie until then. Grabbing the basic toiletries, she made sure to get the floral scents that Chloe liked.
She filled the cart with snacks and portable food that didn’t require refrigeration, which meant it was mostly junk. She’d worry about balanced nutrition afterward. If there was an afterward.
“Nice attitude, Bouvet,” she muttered to herself.
Because she refused to give into the doom and gloom, she grabbed two cushions for Tas to sit on in the back. Okay, they were pet beds but comfy. She picked up sleeping bags, a tent, a solar-powered lantern, a tarp, camping dishes, and a cooler in camping supplies. The Cannella cabin was good for an immediate hideout, but she wanted to be prepared if they had to rough it for a while.
All those items she charged to her credit card. Using cash, she purchased the cheapest pay-as-you-go smartphone in the store and a prepaid thirty-day plan. Those Rose Syndicate people knew where she was now and they knew where she was headed, but she didn’t like the idea of them tracking her every step of the way. She’d turn her cell phone off and take out the battery, using the new phone for maps and whatnot.
Speaking of tracking, once she left the city, she’d have to use cash. She emptied out her account at a convenience store’s ATM and tried not to despair at how quickly it vanished as she gassed up the van.
Sitting in the van, she typed out a message to Chloe on her soon-to-be-defunct phone.
Sorry we argued. I love you, Juniper wrote.
Folding her arms, she held the phone to her chest. Her life had been exhausting but it was hers. Now it was weird, and she didn’t think she’d find a way back to the status quo, or if she wanted that again.
The phone vibrated and she nearly dropped it in surprise.
Don’t keep her waiting, the message read.
With a gasp, she powered down the device and slid the back panel off. Her fingers shook as she removed the battery and flung it down to the floor.
Her instincts told her to hurry, rush in and save her sister. Ignoring that instinct tore her up, but Juniper knew that she needed to be cautious and keep her cool. It sucked. The whole situation sucked.
Staring at the pieces of the phone, Juniper thought to call Mrs. Cannella. The older woman wouldn’t mind, probably, if Juniper borrowed the cabin for a few days, but she couldn’t vanish without saying a word. For years, she babysat Chloe after school and when Juniper had to work, and never took a dime. Driving her neighbor to the grocery store or shoveling her walk in snowy weather seemed the least Juniper could do.
Mrs. Cannella would worry, and that made Juniper’s heart hurt. She owed her a phone call.
But not from her cellphone. If anyone tried to track Juniper down, they’d check her call history and one quick property search would give up the cabin’s location. The burner phone, then? No, she didn’t want any old connections associated with the new phone.
She needed a payphone, but those were extinct. With a sigh, she went back into the store and asked to use the phone. “I’m out of minutes and my car won’t start. I need to call my boyfriend,” she said.
The clerk gave her a bored look before sliding over a desk phone. “No long distance. Keep it short.”
The phone rang twice. “Mrs. Ca—”
“I went for coffee this morning,” the older woman started, not even pausing for breath, “and my favorite blue-haired waitress wasn’t there. Some great blundering lummox spilled coffee all over the table, but everyone knows you got yourself into trouble, so no one wanted to complain. Such a pity.”
“So you know,” Juniper said.
“Everyone knows.”
“I didn’t—”
“Child, you did not execute four grown-ass men. No one believes you did it, but I understand if you want to lay low for a minute.”
“I want—”
“Don’t tell me! You do what you have to do, and you know the key is under the flower pot.”
Juniper smiled. Mrs. Cannella always seemed to know what Juniper needed before she said a word. “I remember.”
“And don’t call here again. It’s not smart.”
“I know.”
