Page 36

CHAPTER 36

REDLEY

I walk out the door and back toward my truck, putting on the show they need to feel comfortable leaving the office unattended. I walk a lap around the parking lot, and by the time I’m back, the desk sits empty.

A little sign says “Back in thirty.” That’s less time than I was hoping for, especially since I’m not sure exactly what I’m looking for, but it will have to do. The door her friend came through seems to lead deeper into the building, and with the glass covered, I don’t have any way to tell if someone is coming. The upshot is they can’t see me either.

I grab the doorknob, anxiety-shaken fingers slicked with sweat, but it doesn’t budge. Locked.

“ Goddammit, ” I whisper as I spin, looking for another option.

Voices carry down the hall, muffled by the door, from people sitting in their various offices just on the other side. The two women are probably sitting in one of them. Even with the secretary’s post empty, I’ll be noticed soon if I just try to brute force my way in.

As quietly as possible, I sit behind her desk and start rifling through her drawers in search of the keys. Every move I make is louder than I want it to be, each slam and jingle threatening to expose me. Every second, I’m afraid one of them will come back, and I’ll permanently lose my opportunity. If they catch me, I’m going to wind up with my picture on the wall.

A key ring rests in the bottom drawer, but there are so many, and I have twenty minutes at best. Flipping through keys by color and shape, I run back to the closet. The first one won’t get past the keyhole, the next two fit but won’t turn, and it’s not until the fifth that the handle gives and the door opens.

Stale air and old paper smell pour out of the room, reminding me of the library in the city I visited once when I was young. So many cabinets line the space that there’s only a narrow alley to walk through. I swallow my dread. There are a lot more people out this way than I realized.

I open the first cabinet, expecting to have to search each one and pray, but much to my surprise, they’re not alphabetized. They’re sorted by zip code first, then address, then name. That’s interesting. I take a moment to think about what I might be looking for. Grimm Groves's zip code is the obvious choice since we get mail.

I open the first cabinet, finding I am quite a few digits off where I need to be. Running down the line, I open cabinets until I’m close, but when I get to the point where Grimm Groves should be, I realize something: our zip code is missing the final number. It’s not real either.

I pull out my map with all my x’s and thank my seldom lucky stars that there’s a lot of information on it both printed and added by me. The local zip codes are listed beside their town, the entries for Grimm Groves written in by me, like the mountain is unclaimed land. I find the five zip codes that directly surround the mountain, then find their respective files inside the drawers.

I’m running out of time, and with so many files to check, I can’t even be sure I’m not missing something. My one saving grace is that very few people live in the area, and their files are inside three drawers. There are only maybe two hundred customers. That wouldn't be so bad if I had time, but I don’t, and I don’t think I'll be able to break in later tonight when the door is locked and there might be an alarm set.

My hands shake as I start to look more carefully. The one town is just lots of small houses and residences, all the folders are thin, so I quickly pass them over. By the time I get to the second town, I realize the thicker the folder is, the heavier the usage and the more detailed the bills.

One file here has at least three times as big as the second largest, so I grab that, hoping it has something for me. Knowing my luck, it’s probably a grocery store. My hands shake as I pull it out. It’s got so many papers inside I can barely hold it in one hand.

I sit on the floor and lay it flat, flipping to the oldest and newest bills. This is one of the first customers of the electric company even before it was commonplace to have power in your home. Their most recent bill was over a thousand dollars.

My eyes nearly bug out of my head, and my mouth falls open. That’s an insane amount of money, given my bill is usually about five dollars for three months.

There’s no name on the account, just an address, on a mountain nearby to my own. The numbers on this bill are astronomical, far greater than any of the others I’ve seen tonight. I find the general area of the property on my map. Whoever it is lives on a mountain so close to ours that I can clearly see how they might run their own lines out to us, but why?

Who the hell are you? And how did this happen?

As I'm reading, voices and footsteps echo down the hall, telling me I'm out of time. There’s no window in this closet, and I’m not sure how the hell I'm going to get past them, but I can’t leave here with nothing.

I take the information I need in the form of the most recent bill, fold it up, and stuff it in my pocket alongside the map. Very carefully, I slip the folder back into the drawer, hoping they won’t give whoever this is some advanced warning. One problem at a time, and getting out of here will be thorny enough.

I listen carefully, waiting for them to pass. The one woman wasn’t working in this area, so she’s likely to go back to her own department soon, but I don’t know for sure if she’s left or not. They’ve been quiet for a minute now.

When I’m sure I haven’t heard anything, I decide to crack the door and see if I can make a break for it. Just as I’m about the grab the knob, the door opens on its own, and I have to step back to avoid getting hit. The secretary blinks at me in shock as her suspicions about me being crazy are confirmed right before her eyes.

I’m tempted to yell at her that I’m not insane. I am just stealing, but yelling about being sane doesn’t usually convince anyone, and I don’t think theft will help my case either.

The urge to punch her in the mouth and run overwhelms me. Her head can’t be anywhere near as hard as Wolf’s, and she’s wasted enough of my time, but I recognize that these weird, violent impulses I keep having aren’t normal or appropriate. I take a deep breath, and rather than hit her, I charge her. She scurries out of the way, but she’s not fast enough, and my shoulder knocks hers harder than it needs to as I shove past.

“Hey, what are you doing?” she shouts. “This is private property! I’m calling the police!”

I cackle as I run, feeling like an old-school outlaw. Her threat means less than nothing with my history. I’d pay good money to see a lawman do his job without wanting anything other than his paycheck in return.

“Good luck with that, honey!” I throw her endearment back at her as I run as hard and fast as I can to the truck. If she does call the cops, she does it behind me.

I run into the parking lot with a big stupid smile on my face. Employees heading back from lunch give me sideways glances as I hop in, but they don’t know I’m running ’cause I stole from them. The key slides in, and I start the engine, cursing Penny for not waking up a little faster. A second later, she’s growling and in gear, and we peel out of there with gravel and dust flying behind us.

The old girl wheezes as she moves as fast as she can, but even Penny likes to play getaway sometimes. The sun floats high in the sky like it’s encouraging me. I think I’ve finally got something this time. I’m trying to decide whether I should go home and make a plan or head straight to this address. I’ve already got the shotgun in the cab beside me. I don’t need much else.

I’m not thinking about Wolf for once or why my family keeps dying. I’m worried about why the hell no one knows Grimm Groves exists. Something even nastier is going on here. It centers around the Littles, but I don’t know why. I’m running over what I’m going to say when I get to whoever’s been taking my money all these years.

About ten minutes later, lights and sirens grab my attention. I hold my breath, hoping they pass, but no dice. Goddammit, I almost forgot the cops aren’t a story like the Wolf. They actually respond in some places. I guess she called them.

“I wouldn’t follow me into Wolf territory, boys,” I taunt them in my rearview and hit the gas a little bit harder. “He doesn’t like it when livestock touch me.”

It doesn’t do much. This old girl tops out at sixty-five. Adrenaline shoots through my veins, and I’m excited like when I used to chase Wolf through the woods. I might not have had the heart to beat Wolf, but I don’t share that weakness for them.

I’m not sure what’s wrong with me exactly, but I’m starting to think it’s going to get me in serious trouble one of these days—if not today.

They get closer; only a few feet separates us, and a vicious smile curls my mouth as my plan forms. Wolf says there’s nothing I can do to get the cops out to Grimm Groves. That’s fine. If he’s right, I can use that to my advantage. I’m untouchable, right?

Penny is built like a tank, and that tailgate is like a radiator-height battering ram. Shortly after I replaced the engine while I was still living in the outside world, a woman rear-ended me at a supermarket, and her car did not live to tell the tale.

I slap the wheel. “Sorry, babygirl, I’ll fix your paint job if you need it.”

The officer is tight on my tail now, cocky thinking he’s got me where he wants me. I slam on the brakes. He tries to stop too, but it’s too late, and he rear-ends me. The metal crunches, his tires squeal as he’s pushed off course, and he careens into the ditch.

I watch the bounce in his suspension as he rolls off course, but not his final stop, and I hope he didn’t hurt himself too badly, unless he’s one of the cops who turned me away.

My muscles shake from the adrenaline and the impact, and I don’t pause to check the damage, or I’ll lose my lead. Pressing the gas as hard as I can, I carry on. I’m only about two hours from home, and apparently once I get there, no one will touch me.

When I look in my rearview a moment later, the road is empty behind me.