He flung the door open in one swift movement, and then moved, almost cringed, swiftly away from me.
The flash of headlights through the rain caught my attention as a dark car covered in dream catcher decals pulled up to the curb just a few feet away, facing us.
"Charlie's around the corner," he warned, staring through the downpour at the other vehicle.
I hopped out at once, despite my confusion and curiosity. The rain was louder as it glanced off my jacket.
I tried to make out the shapes in the front seat of the other car, but it was too dark. All I could see was the license plate, DRMKCHR. Fredward was illuminated by the glare of the new car's headlights; he was still staring ahead, his gaze locked on something or someone that I couldn't see, but who appeared to be in the new car. His expression was a strange mix of frustration and defiance.
Then he revved the engine and peeled out. The Volvo was out of sight in seconds.
"Hey, Bella," called a familiar, husky voice from the driver's side of the Dream Catcher.
"Squaw?" I asked, squinting through the rain. Just then, Charlie's cruiser cruised around the corner, his lights shining on the occupants of the mystery car in front of me.
Squaw was already climbing out, his wide grin visible even through the darkness. In the passenger seat was a much older man, a heavyset man with a memorable face—a face that overflowed with fat, the cheeks resting against his shoulders, with creases running through the russet skin like a beat-up catcher's mitt. And the surprisingly familiar eyes, black eyes that seemed at the same time both too

235

Chapter 11

←

→

main contents contact