Chapter Sixteen
P aula Campbell had had enough of her daughter’s shit. She’d watched her boyfriend leave his apartment and hadn’t seen him since. Smart man. She knew he’d get tired of Sam eventually and was pleased it had happened so soon. When Sam returned to her crappy little house, she’d watched as her daughter tossed trash bag after trash bag into the bin, presumably cleaning the aftermath of the break-in. Then fury had filled her when she went back to the boyfriend’s apartment. He must’ve given her a key. Her daughter didn’t deserve happiness. Not when she’d stolen her mother’s. Merely thinking about it made her jaw clench and anger rise in her chest. She’d been sure Sam had money stashed in that house, yet her friend had found none. Maybe he’d discovered it and kept it for himself, the selfish prick. She wouldn’t put it past him. Not at all.
Her ass was sore from sitting in front of the large ranch house Sam had entered hours ago. She’d been trailing her all day, waiting for her opportunity to strike. Her daughter was an early riser, so she’d missed her leaving the boyfriend’s apartment, but figured she’d be at the hospital or a client’s house. Sam was always fucking working. Of course, she’d found her at the hospital and followed her to what she assumed was a friend’s house. She hadn’t come outside, not once. The ugly dog she always carried must’ve gone into the backyard because Sam hadn’t even poked her head out front to let the mutt outside. She’d been planning to grab her as soon as she was alone, but Sam had been careful since her boyfriend left.
An old station wagon rumbled up behind her, and she stiffened in fear, relaxing her shoulders once she noticed an old man get out of the driver’s side. He rapped his hand on the outside of her window, and she startled despite his age. She’d scored some crack, smoking it from the glass pipe she kept in her center console. The rush had gone straight to her head, but it wasn’t enough. Her high had waned, dragging her from the top of the world into a pit of anger and despair.
“What do you want?” she snapped, cranking down the window of her old car.
“Asking you the same. What the hell are you doing sitting outside this residence?”
Just what she needed. Some community watch member sticking their nose where it didn’t belong. “What’s it to you?” Her patience was spent, her entire body craving the earlier high.
“I’m a friend of the homeowners.” The man glowered at her like she was nothing more than discarded garbage beneath his feet.
“I’m looking up directions.” It would be so satisfying to hit the gas, throw the car in reverse, and feel the car crunch right over him. “I got turned around and ended up on this stupid street.”
“Yeah? Where are you headed?”
“Need some butts.” That was bullshit, of course. She needed to score, and she needed Sam to come out of that fucking house. “Any gas station will do.” Once the man had left, she’d continue to sit outside.
“Turn onto Pine Ave and take the next two rights. Don’t want to see you back here again.”
“You really should mind your own goddamn business.”
“Go. Last warning,” he rumbled.
As if this geriatric patient could do anything to her without every bone in his body crumbling to dust. She cursed when the man continued to stand there. Leaving and coming back seemed like her only option now. She twisted her keys in the ignition and peeled out. Sam’s days were numbered. She’d be back.