Alexander Death(89)

They drove towards a private airport, where Alexander had a plane waiting. Ashleigh stopped at rundown Citgo along the way.

“Where are you going?”

“Just one second.” Ashleigh got out of the car and approached the two payphone boxes outside the store. Both were covered in years of spraypainted messages, and one of the phones was gone, with only a frayed wire where it had been.

Ashleigh picked up the remaining phone, holding it a few inches from ear, since it was thick with grime and filth. She fed in a few quarters, then called 911.

“I want to report an escaped convict,” Ashleigh said. “He usually goes by Thomas Krueger, but I think his legal name is actually Thomas White. He escaped from Riverbend Prison in Louisiana a few months ago. He says he's killed two people since then. He's always armed. You can find him after 10 p.m. every night at Jack's Spot on Sepulveda.”

The operator tried to take her information, but Ashleigh said, “This has to be anonymous. He'll kill me if he knows I reported him. He's very, very dangerous and violent. He's high on meth most of the time, so expect him to fight back or shoot at the police when they go to arrest him. Thank you!”

Ashleigh hung up the phone and returned to her car.

“Everything good?” Alexander asked when she sat down.

“All squared away.” Ashleigh beamed at him. She tried not to think about the intense attraction she felt for Alexander, which almost made her squirm. He was strong, powerful, the first guy she'd met that she might not be able to manipulate at all. It seriously turned her on.

“Then let's drive,” Alexander said.

“Sorry!” Ashleigh cranked the car, blushing. “I can't wait to see that bitch's face when I finally destroy her.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE





Jenny and Seth took a quick charter plane ride to Charleston, where they picked up Jenny's old Lincoln. The clerk at the parking deck booth was amazed to see the car had checked in more than three months earlier, and said she needed to contact her supervisor. Seth shoveled cash at her until she decided it wasn't such a big problem, after all, and raised the arm for them to exit.

Jenny let Seth drive, content to watch the familiar South Carolina countryside. She'd missed the long, crooked limbs of the oak trees, the little cypress swamps, the familiar mats of moss that grew everywhere.

They arrived in Fallen Oak and drove straight to Jenny's house. Jenny felt nervous as she got out of the car—she hadn't spoken to her dad in months, and he hadn't exactly been happy with her then.

As they walked up the front porch steps, her dad appeared behind the screen door. The main door was open to catch the breeze, as it usually was between May and October.

“Jenny?” he said.

“Hi, Dad.” Jenny smiled.

He opened the door, and Jenny embraced him, careful to keep her head away from his. After a minute, he squeezed her tight.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered. “My little baby girl.”

“I missed you, too, Daddy.”

He stepped back, looking her up and down. “You been okay?”

“Yes. How about you?”

“Where you been?”

“Um, Chiapas,” Jenny said. “In Mexico.”

“Doing what?”

“Helping zombies grow cocaine for a big cartel.”

“Goddamn, you do know how to find trouble. Did you know about this, Seth?”

“I went to get her as soon as I could track her down,” Seth said.

“Well, come on in, you two. Dang gnats are still thick as gravy out here.”

Inside, he led them to the kitchen. “I was just fixing to fry up some bacon,” he said. “Guess I'll cook the whole mess, now.”

Rocky lay in a patch of sun on the kitchen floor. His head raised and his tail thumped at the sound of her dad's voice.

“Whoa, Rocky comes inside now?” Jenny asked.

“Hell, I can barely get him outside anymore,” her dad said. He set a black pan on the stove, ignited the gas burner with a match. “He sleeps on my feet at night.”

“That's good, Rocky.” Jenny knelt beside him and petted him with a gloved hand. He put a paw on her knee, wagging his tail. Jenny felt tears in her eyes and tried to swallow them back. Rocky had finally gotten over his fear of people. “I'm so proud of you,” she whispered.

“Well, guess I'll appreciate it come winter,” her dad said. He tossed in a pack of bacon, then cracked eggs into another pan. “Right now, it's too dang hot for that. He don't listen, though.”

“Are you still seeing June?” Jenny asked.

“Yep. She's working a shift at the Waffle House in Varnville today.”

“Can I help you cook, Mr. Morton?” Seth asked.