quivering.
He placed a soft kiss on her lips to silence her. “It doesn't matter.”
“Yes, it does!” she said and shoved him away. Before he could stop her, she was out of the car and standing in front of the marred door.
He got out to join her. “We don't have to do this,” he said, but she was shaking her head. “I don't want you to do anything that's going to bother you so much.”
“Open the door, Cullen.”
He started to protest, but she hit him on the arm.
“Open the damned door before I lose my nerve!” Her entire body trembled. She wrapped her arms around herself and stamped her foot. “Please open the door!” she sobbed.
He slammed the room key into the lock and shoved open the door. A blast of stale, cigarette smoke-laden air washed over them.
The stench made him gag. “No,” he said, his face set and hard. “Get back in the car.”
“Sean...”
“Get in the car, Bronwyn. I'll drive!”
Relieved that she didn't have to step foot inside the foul room, Bronnie hurried back to the car.
Climbing behind the wheel, Sean started the car and whipped it into a u-turn through the pothole-ridden parking lot. He turned south onto the highway.
* * * *
Felix Mosby let the curtain fall over the window of the motel's office. He made a clicking sound with his ill-fitting dentures, then walked to the counter and picked up a pencil and pad. He jotted down the tag number of the car that had just left his establishment so he wouldn't forget it. He added the make and model of the car.
“Damned kids,” he complained as he turned the desk phone toward him. He lifted the receiver and dialed the Dougherty County police. When the dispatcher answered, he gave her the tag number and the particulars on the car. “Not a day over sixteen, if you ask me,” he said, describing the girl in the car. My guess is the boy is from the Air Force base.”
Mosby listened, nodding.
“That's right. Yes, Ma'am. I don't want that sort of thing goin’ on out here.”
He listened some more, thanked the dispatcher, then hung up. He walked to the door, opened it, and breathed in the late afternoon air.
“Jail bait,” he said, then hawked up a wad of phlegm and spat. “Nothing but jail bait.”
Glancing at the lowering sky, he shook his head and went back into the office, satisfied he had helped to end the indecent behavior of at least two rebellious youths.
* * * *
Sean sat hunched over the steering wheel as he drove toward town.
“I'm not ready to go back,” Bronnie told him.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked.
“Kinchafoonee Creek. Where everybody else goes. I'll show you.”
He shot her a glance. “And just how the hell would you know?” he asked, his voice tight.
“Everybody knows where to go parking, Cullen. Doesn't mean I've ever gone. Just means I know where to go.”
His hands gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. “Have you ever come out here with someone else?”
She turned to him. “You tell me.”
He took his eyes from the road, stared at her for a moment, then snapped his head back around, furious with himself that he had drifted into the northbound lane. The highway was notorious for fatal accidents and the thought of something happening to Bronwyn made him sick.
“Turn up there,” she said, pointing.
She guided him deep into the pine thicket that ran along the waterway. Above, scrub oaks formed scraggly arches over the car. Spanish moss snagged on the antenna as they drove under the oaks, festooning the hood with silvery lace. The dirt path she indicated was edged with a rusted barbwire fence that kept honeysuckle and banana vine from wandering too far to the road.
“Park anywhere here.”
He nosed the car beneath a tall live oak and turned off the engine. The sound of water and the chirp of crickets filled in the silence. Dusk wasn't far away, and fireflies appeared along the banks.
Sean grunted. “This place looks like a photograph Ma has of the woods near
He placed a soft kiss on her lips to silence her. “It doesn't matter.”
“Yes, it does!” she said and shoved him away. Before he could stop her, she was out of the car and standing in front of the marred door.
He got out to join her. “We don't have to do this,” he said, but she was shaking her head. “I don't want you to do anything that's going to bother you so much.”
“Open the door, Cullen.”
He started to protest, but she hit him on the arm.
“Open the damned door before I lose my nerve!” Her entire body trembled. She wrapped her arms around herself and stamped her foot. “Please open the door!” she sobbed.
He slammed the room key into the lock and shoved open the door. A blast of stale, cigarette smoke-laden air washed over them.
The stench made him gag. “No,” he said, his face set and hard. “Get back in the car.”
“Sean...”
“Get in the car, Bronwyn. I'll drive!”
Relieved that she didn't have to step foot inside the foul room, Bronnie hurried back to the car.
Climbing behind the wheel, Sean started the car and whipped it into a u-turn through the pothole-ridden parking lot. He turned south onto the highway.
* * * *
Felix Mosby let the curtain fall over the window of the motel's office. He made a clicking sound with his ill-fitting dentures, then walked to the counter and picked up a pencil and pad. He jotted down the tag number of the car that had just left his establishment so he wouldn't forget it. He added the make and model of the car.
“Damned kids,” he complained as he turned the desk phone toward him. He lifted the receiver and dialed the Dougherty County police. When the dispatcher answered, he gave her the tag number and the particulars on the car. “Not a day over sixteen, if you ask me,” he said, describing the girl in the car. My guess is the boy is from the Air Force base.”
Mosby listened, nodding.
“That's right. Yes, Ma'am. I don't want that sort of thing goin’ on out here.”
He listened some more, thanked the dispatcher, then hung up. He walked to the door, opened it, and breathed in the late afternoon air.
“Jail bait,” he said, then hawked up a wad of phlegm and spat. “Nothing but jail bait.”
Glancing at the lowering sky, he shook his head and went back into the office, satisfied he had helped to end the indecent behavior of at least two rebellious youths.
* * * *
Sean sat hunched over the steering wheel as he drove toward town.
“I'm not ready to go back,” Bronnie told him.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked.
“Kinchafoonee Creek. Where everybody else goes. I'll show you.”
He shot her a glance. “And just how the hell would you know?” he asked, his voice tight.
“Everybody knows where to go parking, Cullen. Doesn't mean I've ever gone. Just means I know where to go.”
His hands gripped the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. “Have you ever come out here with someone else?”
She turned to him. “You tell me.”
He took his eyes from the road, stared at her for a moment, then snapped his head back around, furious with himself that he had drifted into the northbound lane. The highway was notorious for fatal accidents and the thought of something happening to Bronwyn made him sick.
“Turn up there,” she said, pointing.
She guided him deep into the pine thicket that ran along the waterway. Above, scrub oaks formed scraggly arches over the car. Spanish moss snagged on the antenna as they drove under the oaks, festooning the hood with silvery lace. The dirt path she indicated was edged with a rusted barbwire fence that kept honeysuckle and banana vine from wandering too far to the road.
“Park anywhere here.”
He nosed the car beneath a tall live oak and turned off the engine. The sound of water and the chirp of crickets filled in the silence. Dusk wasn't far away, and fireflies appeared along the banks.
Sean grunted. “This place looks like a photograph Ma has of the woods near
Similar Books
