Page 134 of Bitter’s Sweet

The radio crackles with Ghoul’s voice.

“They slowed when they saw the car. Didn’t stop. Van kept moving east.”

CSI starts typing. “Got enough. Camera at county line should catch them.”

Hyde says, “Pull Sweet’s car back. Tracker comes off. Now.”

Done.

Clean.

Nobody hurt.

Twenty minutes.

Exactly the sort of decision a man can explain to himself for the rest of his miserable life.

Then Mercy’s voice comes from below.

“Bitter!”

Every muscle in my body locks.

I know that tone.

Not danger.

Worse.

Consequences.

I get downstairs fast.

Sweet stands in the middle of the garage. Skibidi is beside her looking like he would rather crawl into an active crematory than remain part of the conversation.

The bay where her hatchback should be is empty.

Sweet looks at me.

No sunshine. No smile.

Just hurt turning cold.

“Where is my car?”

I stop.

Behind me, Nevermore comes down the stairs and wisely stays out of it.

“Sweet.”

“Where is my car?”

“Ghoul has it.”

Her eyes sharpen. “Why?”

Mercy looks from her to me.