Page 27 of Fallen Creed

“I don’t mind snow,” Vanessa said without so much as a look in Shelby’s direction. “Extreme temps make you feel more alive.”

He couldn’t help but smile. The girl was a gifted liar, sometimes saying things to be purposely contrary. She knew how to use her words and actions to please, disguise, or even shock. Of course, the drugs pulsing through her system had something to do with it. But Vanessa was a treasure, and that’s why he could forgive her colossal mistake last week. The drugs most likely contributed to that incident as well.

Sometimes the side effects screwed them up. But unlike Shelby, Vanessa quickly claimed responsibility and cleaned up her mess. Still, Ruben realized he needed to be careful with his praise. He needed to rein in Vanessa’s ambition. He certainly didn’t want her to believe that she could manipulate him, trick him, or worse, believe she was his equal. These girls were his students, not partners.

“As soon as our mission is accomplished here, sweet Shelby, we’ll go to Florida,” Ruben promised, in a soothing croon he’d practiced over the years. Instantly, he noticed her hunched shoulders ease a bit.

“Somewhere near the ocean?” she asked.

“You got it,” he told her, again, making it sound like he’d make it happen just for her when he really wanted to tell her to stop whining and crying. “You’ll be able to sit on the beach and sink your toes in the warm sand. I’ll even get us some special cocktails to dab.”

By cocktails, he meant marijuana derivatives. None of these girls cared much about alcohol these days. A shame, because he missed how slap-happy drunk girls could be. He still enjoyed a good vodka buzz.

Getting stoned, wasted—whatever the new trendy phrase might be—wasn’t his thing. And regular, good ole weed wasn’t good enough for these young girls. They wanted to dab, and they wanted wax, shatter, crumble. Some of the results were tiresome and unpredictable, especially when the paranoia set in or the anxiety and panic attacks took over.

He didn’t really understand why they enjoyed it. Getting loaded was supposed to make you feel good and relieve your stress and tension. Although he had to admit, he liked to watch if any of them experienced hallucinations. And he liked it even more when he could use those against them the following day.

Florida was actually a great idea. Unfortunately, Ruben couldn’t say whether rule-breaker, crybaby Shelby would make the trip with them or end up in a nearby cornfield.

—23—

Wednesday, October 6

Grand Island, Nebraska

Maggie was gone when Creed woke up before dawn. Still groggy, he couldn’t remember much, except for a long kiss as soon as his hotel room door closed behind them. He wished they hadn’t stopped to eat the pizza, because he was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep on her.

He found the leftovers in the mini-frig and a note tacked up against the phone on the desk:

I’ll be with Lucy all morning. Be careful at the Spencers’. Remember the SNOW! Let’s meet for a real dinner tonight. XO

The XO made him smile. Maggie O’Dell was not an XO kind of woman. They hadn’t used the L-word, and every once in a while he thought he saw signs it was getting harder and harder for her to hold back. He knew Maggie O’Dell well enough to not be the first to say it or she’d run for safe shelter. Whenever they grew closer, she used the comfort and convenience of going back home and letting the months pile up between seeing each other.

But this made him smile. XO. She was running out of casual terminology to tell him how she felt.

He fed Grace and devoured the rest of the cold pizza. Made a thermos of coffee before leaving the hotel. He’d even taken the sweatshirt and jacket. But now, pulling into the Spencers’ driveway, the first snowflakes began to fall. Fat, moist splats gathered on the windshield. They were wet, more than icy. Creed already started evaluating how these unfamiliar conditions would affect Grace’s tracking. They’d worked in the rain, but never snow and never in subzero temperatures.

Odor molecules clumped closer together in the cold. Moisture made the air heavy and dense, pushing scent to the ground. It would no longer disperse in the air. Instead, it carried with the moisture, sticking to leaves and grass. None of that would be a problem for Grace.

But snow? Creed imagined snow added another layer of cover for Grace to smell through. Even that shouldn’t be a problem for Grace. But if the air freezes, the scent would get trapped between the water molecules as they turned to ice. Hopefully, the temperature would stay above freezing and they simply found themselves tracking through the slush.

As soon as he stepped out of his Jeep, those hopes were quickly abandoned. The cold cut through him despite his layers of T-shirt, long-sleeved shirt and hooded sweatshirt. He glanced back at the Jeep’s dashboard and saw that the temperature had fallen almost ten degrees just since he’d left the hotel.

“Mr. Creed,” Nora Spencer waved to him from the front door. “Would you like to come in for some coffee?”

He had a full thermos, but he nodded and said, “Sure. Is it all right if I bring in Grace?”

“Of course.”

Once on the ground, Grace pranced in the snow. She jumped and bit at the falling snowflakes.

“It might look fun now,” Creed told her. “But it’s already a lot colder than I expected.” He swept at the icy moisture gathering inside his collar against his neck.

At least he had warm socks and serious hiking boots. Only ankle-high boots, he realized as he saw the toes being swallowed up by the snow.

“Ted left about an hour ago,” Nora told him as Creed stomped off the snow before entering. He started to take one boot off when she stopped him. “Please, don’t worry about that. Come on in and get warm.”

This morning she greeted Grace, offering out her hand. When she straightened back up, her eyes traveled over Creed.