Run to Ground(115)
“We’ll be fine,” Ty responded for all of them.
“Dez?” Jules couldn’t believe that everyone in the family had an iron bladder.
“I’m used to holding it when I have to go,” Dez said, sounding distracted. A glance in the rearview showed that she and Ty were playing some kind of writing game, probably tic-tac-toe.
That was weird. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you used to holding it?”
Dez’s round blue eyes met hers in the mirror for a second before Jules had to look back at the road. “It takes too long to use the bathroom in a pageant dress. I get to go before and after, but not during.”
Filing that away as reason number five thousand and seven why kidnapping was, for certain families, a good thing, Jules said, “After we get to the car-swap spot, Dezzie, you can pee whenever you want to pee, okay?”
“Hey!” Ty yelped. “Let’s not get crazy. You’re not in the backseat with her.”
Dez giggled.
“Will you miss doing the pageants, D?” Jules was suddenly hit by the realization that the kids’ lifestyles were going to change dramatically. They’d be scrounging for the basics—food, utilities, clothing—and extras would be impossible, at least at first.
“No.” Dez’s voice was flat.
“Good.” There was one concern erased. Unfortunately, a whole new batch swarmed in to take its place.
* * *
As she followed the directions to the location Dennis had referred to as simply “Billy’s,” the knot in her stomach, which had loosened a tiny bit when they’d crossed the Florida state line, drew tight again. The industrial area was just outside of Atlanta, and it was a maze of warehouses, each one looking more desolate than the one before. Jules was glad it was three in the afternoon, because she would hate to be wandering around there after dark.
“What’s next, Sam?”
“L-left. At Hawth-th-thorne.” He held his fingertip on their current line of direction. It was strange using written instructions instead of GPS. Jules kind of missed the robotic voice telling her when they were approaching a turn. With the old-fashioned way, they actually had to look for street signs.
“There!” Tio spotted it first. Despite their earlier unconcern about driving for six straight hours, Jules knew they were all very ready to be out of the car for a while. She turned onto Hawthorne Street.
“G-g-go three-quarters of a m-m-m…” Sam gave a huff and tried again. “M-mile. It’ll b-be on the right.”
“Got it.” She glanced at the trip odometer so she could measure when three-quarters of a mile had passed. “Is there an address?”
“N-no.”
Of course not. Why make it easy? “Does he describe the building at all?”
“Buh-rick w-w-warehouse.”
She snorted, sending Sam a sideways look. “To distinguish it from all the other brick warehouses?”
Although he just shrugged, his mouth curled up in a reluctant smile.
“Are we close?” Ty asked, jiggling his knee up and down. Jules wasn’t sure if he needed a bathroom or just to run off excess energy, then figured it was probably both.
“Two-tenths of a mile to go. Keep an eye out for it.”
Despite her earlier sarcasm, Jules picked out the correct warehouse easily, as did the three spotters in the back. Tio had finished his book an hour earlier, and he was anxious to retrieve another from his backpack as soon as they could stop. His knee was bouncing as much as his twin’s.
She pulled up to an oversized overhead door that looked like a semi could fit through it, and Sam jumped out. As he jogged over to the keypad, Ty opened his door as if to follow.
“Stay!” Jules snapped, her head whipping around in true Exorcist fashion. “Everyone else stays in the car until we’re inside.”
Although he groaned, Ty pulled his door closed again.
“It’ll be ten more seconds.” The overhead door started to rise, and Jules kept a sharp eye on Sam as he jogged back to the car. “I think you’ll live.”
No one appeared in the opening as the door continued to lift. Heart thudding in her throat, Jules eased the car forward as soon as there was room for it to fit. She tried to relax and trust that Dennis wouldn’t have sent them into a dangerous situation. Even though she didn’t know the man well—or at all, really—it seemed like killing off his boss’s clients would be a poor business move. It would definitely cut down on word-of-mouth referrals.
Once the car was through the doorway, she stopped to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim interior. It looked like a mechanic shop merged with a beauty salon had decided to have a garage sale. Most of the space was taken up with standard equipment needed to work on cars, but there were racks of clothing against the far wall, as well as a table covered by several filled boxes. They were in too much shadow to make out the contents from Jules’s spot in her Camry. A hairdresser’s chair sat next to two shampooing sinks.