“I’m parked down the street.”May scanned the dark stretch of road.“Should we be looking for snipers?”
Amka spotted Trooper Jeb down the way.“No.The troopers have been patrolling all day and night.We’re safe.”
The world outside remained dead quiet since the rain had stopped.Gravel, snowmelt, the soft groan of wind sliding off the mountains lent a lonely air to the night.One streetlight flickered near the end of the road, casting a long shadow across May’s dark blue truck.
Amka bolted to it, pulling the passenger door open and jumping inside.
May followed at a jog, slipped in, and shut her door with a quiet thud.“Why do I have the feeling that I'm not just taking you home?”
Because the doctor was smart…and a good friend.Amka pulled the seatbelt across her chest.“I have an idea.”
“What’s that?”May started the truck.The engine caught on the second try, coughing once before settling into a steady idle.They pulled out onto the road with nothing but the small town and dark trees behind them.
“Let’s go by Jarod’s house,” Amka said.“He’s still in Anchorage.Maybe we can find his laptop.”
May glanced over.“You think?”
“I don’t know, but I have to do something.”
May drove carefully.“This is probably a bad idea, but I'm totally on board with you.I have your back.”
“I know,” Amka murmured, then hiccupped.“I appreciate it.”
May’s hands tightened on the steering wheel, the dash lights giving her skin a blue glow.“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.”May kept driving, the headlights cutting through dark that didn’t seem to end.They moved outside of town, away from the river and to the Willows, a string of run-down duplexes that looked like they were losing a long fight with the land.Half of the roofs sagged.Some windows were boarded.Gutters hung down in sad curls.One of the buildings had an actual tarp nailed across part of the siding.
Amka winced.“I hadn’t realized how bad it was out here.”Some of the tourists had no choice but to rent this far out.Knife’s Edge really did need a new motel.
“How long has Jarod lived out here?”May asked.
“I think since the motel burned down.”
They pulled up to one unit on the far edge of the lot.Grass grew wild along the curb, half-dead and patchy.A grocery cart lay tipped over near the front step.Amka got out.The quiet pressed in from all sides, thick and solid, but at least it wasn’t raining.
No porch light.No signs of life.
The front door was flaking paint and patched with cardboard near the bottom.Amka tried the knob.Locked.
“You don’t have a key?”
The knob felt jagged in Amka’s hand.“Why would I have a key?”
“Good point,” May said.“But you know, you are engaged.”
Amka looked around.“Do you see a rock or anything?Maybe he has a key hidden.”
They searched the front area.The lawn was more dirt than grass, with scorched patches near the walkway.Some cracked flowerpots sat empty.No key.Just trash and silence.
“Nothing,” May muttered.“Let’s go round back.”
Amka nodded.
They crept around the side, brushing past a collapsed fence.The backyard was worse with old cans, a broken bike frame, and something that might’ve once been a grill.They reached a sliding glass door to find it locked.
A window caught Amka’s eye that appeared half open with its screen missing.She moved toward it.“In here.”Levering up on the sill, she pushed herself through, rolled, and hit the floor hard.“Ouch.”Pain clicked through her from her still healing injuries.The blinds clattered above her in protest.She reached up and yanked them back.
