Page 132 of The Five Year Lie

The tepid shower in her creaky over-the-garage apartment is the best one I’ve ever had. After I change into clean clothes and brush my teeth, I scrub Buzz up, too.

Then I set the alarm on the unfamiliar clock radio for three hours and take a much-needed nap.

We wake up groggy when the alarm blares around noon.

After I pay the homeowner, I’ll still have more than fifty dollars left. My biggest problems are now: finding a ride to Harrietta, which is about eighteen miles away, and finding Woody.

And possibly Drew.

I give a silent prayer.Please, God, let one or both of them be here.I hope I didn’t drag my child across the country for nothing.

“I really appreciate this,” I say for the tenth time as Mrs. Jonas—the landlady—pulls into Harrietta in her aging Ford Explorer.

“It’s no big thing. I hope you find your cousin.”

“I’m sure I will,” I lie.

“Where do you want me to drop you?”

I take quick stock of the tiny post office and the shuttered library that comprise the downtown of Harrietta. Then my eyes land on the best choice. “Right there, if you don’t mind,” I say, pointing at Red’s Hardware and Lumber. If Woody or Drew lives here, they’ll be known at the hardware store.

Hopefully.

She pulls over and wishes me well.

“Let me give you some gas money,” I say, reaching for my bag.

“You’ve given me enough,” she says, holding up a hand. “Good luck and God bless you.”

It’s the second time someone has said that to me. And I guess I need all the help I can get.

“What is this store?” Buzz asks as we step inside the big space.

“They sell tools, and wood to build things. But we’re not really shopping today.”

“Okay,” he says. But as we approach the counter, Buzz drops my hand and darts down an aisle. I watch as he kneels down in front of a rack of die-cast metal work vehicles.

Well, crap. He’s going to ask me for one, and I’m going to have to say no. But in the meantime, I use this moment of freedom to approach the big, bearded man behind the counter.

“Can I help you, miss?” he asks.

“Hope so,” I say, giving him a smile. “I’m in town to visit friends, but I misplaced the address. You probably know Woody—he’s an army vet. And maybe his friend Jay? Blue eyes. He’s got a scar right here.” I trace a line under my eye and pray that Buzz isn’t listening right now.

The big man is already shaking his head, though. “Haven’t heard of ’em. Sorry.”

My heart plummets. “You haven’t? I’m sure they’d come in here.”

“Nah, sorry.” He crosses his burly arms. But then his phone rings. “’Scuse me.” He answers his phone.

Crushed, I turn my back on him so he won’t see the gutted look on my face. I go back to Buzz, where I left him in the aisle. I crouch down and watch him play, one truck in each hand.

What the hell am I going to do now?

I hear the big man behind the counter hang up his phone call. He can’t be the only one working here, though. Maybe someone else in the store has heard of Woody and Jay. I can’t give up yet.

“Hey... Pete?” I hear the guy calling to someone else. “You going anywhere near Pine Pitch Road today?”

“Oh, yah,” answers another voice. “Heading out now. Got some lumber for Buzz.”