Chapter 36
Quinnly
After eating our weight in creamy pasta, Lincoln takes my hand and walks down the sidewalk. We pass the salon Fern likes to go to, and the book shop with her brother’s practice across the street, as if we aren’t two serial killers on a stroll through a town littered with shady people.
Pulling me into the hardware store, Lincoln leads us to the garden center where bright green plants overflow.
“What–”
And then, I see her. The woman I’ve been stalking for weeks. Her short brown hair is half up in a clip, white suit crisp even in the garden center. She looks like a goddess, but I know that’s all a facade.
A venomous spider hiding behind beauty.
Lincoln’s hand squeezes mine, one look at him and he subtly shakes his head. “Observe only.”
Well he’s no fun.
She’s guarded, I spotted the two men when we stepped through the automatic doors. They look plain compared to her in jeans and t-shirts, but their slicked back hair and the guns at their waist–poorly concealed I might add–give them away.
Her manicured fingers glide over petals, I wait for them to wilt after her touch, but that’s not a real thing. Still, it would be cool.
“You need to be careful, Menace. Don’t underestimate her, she’s got a lot riding on her next deal, and she’s not going to go down without a fight.”
“What do you know about her deal?” I ask as he leads me around the rows of plants.
He sighs, obviously irritated.
“Oh, you told me last night, didn’t you?”
His eyes slide my way and I smile, “Whoops.”
Paranoid Penny doesn’t look so paranoid right now, her smile is bright as she picks up a few plants and adds them to a cart. Pushing the cart forward, she smiles at the shoppers that pass by, and greets the cashier with the same smile.
Lincoln guides us out of the store, brushing past her and her body guards with them none the wiser.
In the car, we wait for them to get to theirs and follow at a good distance.
They take her to her home, where she unloads her plants and greets another older woman at the door.
I can’t hear anything from so far away, but the moment the older lady places something in her hands and walks to the car idling in the driveway, I know I’m going to have to make my move quicker than anticipated.
Paranoid Penny has expedited her plans, I can feel it in my gut. And I love to spoil plans. Lincoln must also get the same sense, because he lays a hand on my bouncing knee attempting to calm my excitement.
Back at the mansion, I escape to my room, grab my laptop and search the house for Banks. When I can’t find him, I let out a huff of frustration and head to the security room with monitors galore and various kill boards.
Diego’s sitting in the chair in front of four monitors, with a laptop running some code.
“Wild One,” he says, not bothering to look from whatever it is he’s doing.
“If I ask you about Penny McGrath, will you tell me to fuck off?”
He grunts, then turns around, reaching for my laptop. Handing it to him, he opens it and his fingers fly over the keyboard. The screen flickers, various boxes open and close as he downloads all the information Creed has on her, onto my computer.
“We’ve been after her for months,” he says, returning my laptop. “She’s sneaky.”
Winking, I blow a bubble of gum and skip back to my room. I’ve got shit to study, and when night comes, I’m going after her.
Dinner is usually a family affair around here, except tonight everyone’s here. Including Fern’s brother and his wife. Everyone talks, and there are so many different conversations happening at once, I can’t keep my brain in order.
It doesn’t matter, or at least it won’t for long.
I have plans, and all I have to do is wait for Lincoln to go to sleep.
We helped Fern clean up tonight, despite her many, many protests, and now we’re laying in bed waiting for the other to fall asleep.
He must know I have something up my sleeve, but he hasn’t pressed.
Evening out my breathing, I close my eyes and wait. He’ll be out soon enough, and then I can start.
It doesn’t take long for him to be fast asleep, but in my mind it’s been hours. Slipping out from under his arm, I make my way to the closet, avoiding the creaky floorboards. Throwing on the clothes I’d picked out yesterday, I strap my scissors to my arm and head down the stairs.
It’s a nice night for a walk, I couldn’t very well start a car and alert the whole house to my master plans.
Everything’s cooled down, and the stars poke through the sky.
June in North Carolina gets suffocatingly hot during the day, so the cooler evenings are a welcome reprieve.
The moon’s so bright it serves as all the illumination I need to find my way to Paranoid Penny.
Her warehouse was booming with activity last night, so I know she’ll be here.
By the time I’ve sung a total of thirteen songs, her warehouse is within view. People walk about, some carrying various items, others looking around the place. It’s like a prison, but without any inmates.
The rotations are pretty ordinary, every seven minutes one of them walks by, leaving a gap of seven minutes unoccupied.
Walking up to the building, I follow the bald headed man in rotation until we come to a door.
He’s either really bad at this job, or he’s got something else on his mind.
I could probably give him a wet willy and he’d never see it coming.
The handle turns without a problem and I grin from ear to ear, idiots.
Inside there’s tall columns of brown boxes wrapped in that clear stuff that clings to everything except what you want it to. They provide ample coverage for me as I maneuver through the space.
“There’s a shipment missing,” a distinctly male voice says, pulling my attention closer to the part of the building with an overhang.
There’s a set of metal stairs leading up to the balcony, and another door leading to what I’ve concluded is her office, based on the various glass window panes overlooking the entire warehouse.
Sure enough, after a few minutes she appears on the balcony, her shoes clippy-clopping on the metal. Her hands rest on the bar as she looks down over her horde of whatever’s in these boxes.
“Which one?” She asks, and then returns to her office, closing the door behind her.
I want to follow but there’s a muffled sound in the box I’ve stopped near. Something like a whimper and a sneeze. This box isn’t like the others, it’s wooden and not wrapped. There’s a lock on the side, and a little handle that’s been welded to it.
With a few quick tricks the lock clicks open and the handle pops out. The wooden part’s heavy and opens with a squeak. Pausing to look around, I wait for a few seconds listening for Paranoid Penny, and when I hear them still talking I continue with the handle.
There’s a woman in the box, and not just any woman. Her dark glossy hair hangs in her face, unwashed. The dress she has on is torn in a few places, she’s got cuts all over her body, and her eyes blink slowly squinting in the light.
“Charlie Romero,” I tsk, I may be remembering wrong, but I think Banks dated her for a while a few years back. He probably wouldn’t like it if I left her here…
Her head’s in the corner, hands tied in front of her. There’s a rag in her mouth, along with duct tape around her ankles and wrists.
“Well, isn’t this a twist in my story?” Looking around, I jam the box door open and cut her binds. The rag falls out of her mouth with a gag, as if she has no control over it. “This is inconvenient, Charlie, I hope you know this.”
Looking around, I can’t imagine these people are going to ship her somewhere looking like this. What the hell would they even want her for?
Getting her on her feet is too much to ask apparently, I’m also fairly certain she’s pissed herself, and now I’m stuck. I can either get Charlie out of here, or I can continue on with my plan and hope she remains somewhat unharmed.
Ugh, fuck.
Throwing her arm over my shoulder, and pulling her body into mine, her feet trip, but she stays upright.
Peeking out of the box, I make sure my path is clear and go back the way I came.
Slight problem, I don’t know how many minutes I’ve been in here, and therefore I don’t know where the men around the building are in their rotation.
Leaning my ear against the metal, I listen for footsteps, but it’s no use. I can’t hear anything. Cracking the door open, it hits a guard on his way through his rotation and he stops.
“Well, this ought to be fun.”