I think of New York City and how it’s quite the opposite. In fact, I only knew the name of one of my neighbors.One. And only because she was Amelia’s babysitter. My apartment building probably had two hundred apartments.
It’s inconceivable to think that a whole town knows each other.
“How many people in the town?”
“About twenty thousand.”
My eyebrows meet in the middle. “You know twenty thousand people?”
He catches my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Okay, so maybe I don’t knoweveryone. But sometimes it seems that way. Especially on my side of town, which is the older, original side. The better side if you ask me. The one established long before big stores like Target and Home Depot and…” His head shakes in disgust. “Well, other chains.”
For a moment, I consider asking him to take me somewhere in White Plains. The last thing I need is to be stranded in a small town where everyone knows everyone else’s business. Where it would be difficult to blend in and go unnoticed.
Then again, I left a city of eight million people because there was nowhere to hide. Maybe a small towniswhat I need.
“Um… I’m sorry, I forgot your name.”
“Carter.”
“Can I ask you a question, Carter?”
“Shoot.”
“Why do you have a huge roll of duct tape in your truck?”
His amused eyes catch the reflection of my serious ones. He begins laughing, but then his face turns all business as he realizes why I must be asking. I’m a stranded woman with her young child, entrusting our lives to a complete stranger.
“Yeah, okay, so I can see how that might be worrisome since you don’t know me from Adam. But I tow cars. Cars like yours that have been in accidents. Sometimes those cars have pieces that are barely even attached. Loose bumpers. Doors halfway off hinges. Open trunks that won’t shut. Duct tape, along with bungee cords I keep in the toolbox strapped behind the cab, help me secure everything so nothing flies off. Not to mention how annoying it sounds to have a piece of metal flapping in the wind as I drive.”
“Oh, okay.”
He makes a left turn, and I feel like I’ve entered another world. Small shops line each side of the street. Snow from plows is piled high near each gutter. A few people are bundled up and walking along the sidewalk. Carter honks and waves. They wave back. A woman is dancing from foot to foot, obviously freezing while trying to brush the few inches of snow off the windshield of her parked car. Carter slows to a stop.
“I’ll be right back.”
He jumps out, directs the woman to get back inside her car, and proceeds to clean the rest of it off for her. I watch intently, eyes narrowed in awe and disbelief. People actually do things like this? I thought it was just in movies.
A memory flashes through my head, taking me back to when I was about eight or nine. Our car got a flat tire on the way to Roger Wheeler State Beach. We stopped in a town similar to this one to have it changed out. Right now, though, that feels like a whole lifetime ago.
“Kenna?”
I look at Carter in the mirror and cock my head.
“You’re safe with me. I’m one of the good guys.”
“I bet that’s what all serial killers say.”
We share a laugh. I just hope my instincts are right.
“Mommy, what’s a serial killer?”
Carter chuckles and answers before I can. “It’s when your Cheerios go bad before you can eat them.”
I roll my eyes as he smiles back at me.
Amelia scrunches her nose. “I don’t like Cheerios. I like Fruit Loops.”
Carter nods. “Fruit Loops. Noted.”
