“Neither anymore. I’ll be leaving today.”
“Today?” He sounds slightly relieved and maybe a little skeptical.
“Yeah, heading back to D.C. Speaking of…” I turn to face Hawks and offer him my hand. “I need to get packed. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”
He returns my grip. “You gave me a place to start. I appreciate that.”
“Safe travels, Special Agent Landry,” Wexford mutters in dismissal before turning on Hawks again. I don’t stick around long enough to hear the conversation. If Hawks decides to share what I told him about the scene or Harlyn, I’m sure I’ll be getting a call soon enough. Right now, I need to get Harlyn the hell out of Michigan.
Harlyn
I’ve been shifting my weight from foot to foot for so long, I’m starting to feel like the people behind me probably think I needto pee, but really, it’s just nervous energy. As much as I didn’t want to get near that shed, I’m now regretting it, because it feels like Boone’s been gone a really long time.
I don’t even have my phone to distract me, because I feel like the dang thing is contaminated, so all I can do is stand around and wait. As the minutes tick by and more cars arrive, I begin to feel a little detached. The immediate worry about John, if it was him, slips into something less tangible, less real. I know I shouldn’t embrace the numbness, but I do. I let my thoughts splinter and soften around the edges until things like the sound of chatter near me turns into a soft hum, and I can pretend none of this means anything to me. I’m just a bystander like everyone else, and when this is all over, I will go home and… I cut that thought off before things get too real.
When Boone finally emerges from the mess of vehicles, I get a rush of emotion, but it only lasts for a heartbeat before the fuzziness returns. He’s walking fast and heading straight for me, but that’s about it. I don’t try to decipher the look on his face or the stiff set of his shoulders.
“Harlyn,” he calls before even reaching me.
I mouth the word, “Yeah,” because my voice doesn’t seem to be working at the moment.
“What happened?” He looks around, spying the small groups that have grown since he left.
I find my voice. “Nothing.” He turns his neck just enough to give me a skeptical glance before taking me by the shoulder and physically turning me around. With his arm wrapped low on my back, Boone guides me to the condo.
“Wait here,” he instructs once we’re in the small entry hall near the powder room. I do as I’m told while staring out the back windows to watch the calm blue water.
“Harlyn!” Boone snaps.
I jerk into action, walking toward the stairway. “Yeah?”
“Why didn’t you answer me?”
“I did,” I counter.
“Not the first two times.” He’s eyeing me like I’m keeping a secret.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” I admit. He’s still watching me, and I find it hard to meet his eyes, so I examine his body instead. “What are you doing with that?”
He holds up my overnight bag. “Packing for you. Come get your personal stuff.”
“Packing? Where am I going? I don’t want anything from here. I don’t want that.” I shake my head, trying to sort out all the thoughts bombarding me at once.
“I took the tracker out. The bag is clean. Come grab a few things.” By the shape of the bag, I can already tell he’s put some things in it for me.
“I can get new stuff. Where am I going?”
He doesn’t answer my question directly. “You can’t stay here.”
“Okay,” I agree way too easily, considering I have no idea where he expects me to go.
“If you don’t want to come up, then tell me what to get you.” He shifts from left to right, clutching the short handles of the bag I used to love. My grandmother bought it for me. Hayzel had one as well, but hers was a different color. I wonder if he touched hers too. Nope, I slam the door on that thought and the prickly feeling that comes along with it.
I shake my head in denial. “Nothing. I’m not taking anything he touched with me. I can’t.” My voice sounds funny, like it’s cracking but watery at the same time. I clear my throat, but the lump lodged there doesn’t budge.
“I can’t take you with nothing, Harlyn.” His shoulders fall.
“I can’t go anywhere with anything he’s touched. Did he hurt someone else?” All of a sudden, the shirt on my back feels like itsstrangling me, and my pants don’t feel like the simple jeans I put on this morning. It feels like if I don’t get them off my body right now, I’m going to scream.
