Page 193 of Red Marked

We go inside, and the aisles are tall and narrow. There’s country music coming out of a speaker somewhere near the ceiling. I grab two rolls of tape off the display by the door. Star wanders down the first aisle and back, taking her time. She grabs the zip ties, holding them up.

“We’re either serial killers, or we like kinky shit.”

“Kinky shit in aisle six,” Star says, and I laugh again.

Fuck!

She’s amazing.

I think if I were the settling-down type, she’d be it.

There’s one checkout open.

The male behind it is on the far side of fifty with dark hair going gray at the temples, reading glasses on a cord around his neck, and a green polo shirt with a badge pinned to the pocket that says Shale. He’s working the register.

I put the tape down.

Star steps up next to me, takes one look, and her face falls.

Crap!

We had a feeling this wouldn’t be him.

“Cash or card?” he asks me.

I swipe my card. I turn and walk out. Star is leaning against the passenger door with her arms folded when I come out. I toss the bag onto the back seat.

“It’s not him,” she says.

“I gathered as much. We had a feeling. There’s one guy left.”

“What are the chances of it being him?” She opens her door.

“It’s worth a try.”

“I’m not feeling lucky. I’m beginning to think that Holt was wrong. His mind is probably warped from being out there so long.” She gets in.

I get in as well. Her head is turned to the window.

“We have to stay positive.”

“Do we?” Her brows go up. Her eyes are filling with tears.

“Yes…we do.” I touch her arm. “Come on, Star. This isn’t over.”

She sniffs a few times and pulls herself together. Thank fuck, because I’m not sure what I would do if she cried.

The second address is at the back of the industrial park, a good ten minutes past the turnoff Magma flagged for head office.

Veridian’s name is on the sign, but that’s about all it has in common with a pharmaceutical company. It’s two floors of gray render with a glass door out front, and a loading dock around the side where a single truck is backed up with its rear doors open. There are maybe a dozen cars in the lot. If the sign weren’t there, I’d take it for a storage depot.

“Oh, how the mighty have fallen,” Star says. “I can’t believe that this is all that’s left. It was a huge company that made mega money.”

“They were part of the lie.”

“It’s sad that all those people lost their jobs. It wasn’t their fault either.”

“You’re right,” I tell her.