The next morning, I rent a car.
Even though I told her she didn’t have to, Wendy gave me the cash value of the rental, but I’ll be using my credit card to rent the car. I don’t want this rental to be connected to her in any way.
Of course, there’s a reasonable chance that Douglas Garrick will suspect that I have something to do with his wife’s disappearance. But I will never, ever give her away. Even if he tortures me, which I honestly wouldn’t put past him. A man who could do that to his wife’s face is capable of anything.
“Hello, welcome to Happy Car Rental,” a girl at the front desk chirps, who doesn’t look old enough to rent a car herself. “How can I help you?”
“I reserved a gray Ford Focus,” I tell her. “I put in the reservation online.”
The girl types my information into the computer while I drum my fingers on the desk. As I stand at the counter, I can’t help but notice a prickly feeling in the back of my neck. Like somebody’s watching me. Again.
I turn around. The store front of the rental car place is all picture windows from ground to ceiling, so somebody could easily be looking in. I almost expect to see a man with his face pressed against the glass, staring at me. But there’s nobody.
I shiver involuntarily. According to Mrs. Randall, Xavier Marin is in jail. No bail, she told me—she’s evicted him. So why do I still get the sensation like somebody’s watching me? And this isn’t the first time. I have felt this way at least half a dozen times since Xavier was arrested.
The truth is, I don’t know who has been watching me all this time. What if it really is Douglas Garrick who has been following me around town? It doesn’t quite make sense, because I felt these eyes behind me even before I started working for him. But I can’t discount the possibility. He’s the one I saw when I was at that outdoor restaurant.
What if Douglas knows exactly what we’re up to? What if he’s out there, watching?
“So I’ve got your car,” the girl says. “It’s the red Hyundai.”
“No,” I say impatiently. “I put in a reservation for a gray Ford Focus.” Being anonymous and not drawing attention to ourselves is key. I learned that from Enzo.
“I don’t know what to tell you. It says red Hyundai here. We don’t have a gray Ford Focus in our inventory right now.”
“This is unbelievable. I put in a reservation, and you don’t even have the thing I reserved?”
She shrugs helplessly. This isn’t even the first time this has happened to me. What is the point of placing a reservation if they just give away the thing you reserved? “I don’t want a red car,” I say tightly. “How about a gray Hyundai?”
She shakes her head. “We’re low on sedans. I can rent you a gray Honda CRV.”
I spend a moment debating whether an SUV would stand out more than a red sedan. Finally, I agree to the red Hyundai. Truthfully, I just want to get out of here. The purpose of this trip is to get Wendy out of town, but I don’t think it would be so bad getting out of town myself.
