Page 149 of Evil Bones
Again, the subliminalpsst!,more adamant this time.
I’d seen the truck before. Where?
Pulse drumming, I looked around, anxious to find Slidell. I spotted him among the barricaded onlookers, between a kid in a Hornet’s jersey and a blue-haired granny clutching a canvas bag.
Digging my mobile from my purse, I hit Skinny’s speed dial number.
“Where the fu—” he began.
“I’m worried that the firefighters didn’t check the basement. One of them gave me a runaround. We need to check if—”
“I’ll take care of it. Your ass goes back to the car.” The intensity of his command left no room for protest.
I did as Skinny ordered. Sat on the passenger side, worrying the damn cuticle and checking the time every few seconds.
Tapping my mobile to be sure it was on. Of course, it was on.
Ninety minutes later, the call finally came.
Hand trembling, I snatched the device from the dash.
“The kid’s fine.” Slidell’s breath was striking the mouthpiece fast and raspy.
“Where is she?”
“On her way to an ER.”
“Ohmygod! What—”
“I said she’s fine.”
“If she’sfine, why is she in an ambulance?”
“I didn’t give her no choice.”
“Wherewasshe?”
“The perp left her tied up in the cellar, then hauled ass.”
“With the house on fire.” The fury I felt was like a flamethrower piercing my chest.
“Whoever it is will pay for this. But you need to see this. The basement where this handiwork went down is a real freak show.”
I needed no urging.
Flying from the car, I raced up the street. Skinny met me on the porch and handed me a Maglite, saying that the lighting on the stairs was shit. With that colorful admonition, he led me into the house.
The front entrance gave directly onto a parlor. Cheap factory rug on the floor. IKEA-type chair and sofa trio facing a flat-screen TV. Everything bland and normal.
Until we entered the kitchen and crossed to an open door.
The odor hit me before we reached the threshold, a familiar blend of cedar and oil.
The tiny hairs rose on the back of my neck.
Where had I encountered that smell?
An image flashed.
