The Missing Place by Sophie Littlefield Read Free Book Online

house to use hers?”
    Shay laughed. She had an unexpectedly lush laugh, at odds with her voice, which was cigarette-rough and almost coarse. “She didn’t offer. But I’ve got something better. You’re in for an education.”

six
    SHAY CARRIED HER toiletries and a change of clothes in a pillowcase. Colleen used the laundry bag that matched her luggage. Shay gave her a washcloth she’d bought at Walmart, a thin orange one that she said was buy one, get one free.
    â€œNow that’s luck,” Shay said, and Colleen couldn’t tell if she was kidding.
    Shay’s car turned out to be the old white Explorer parked across the street. As she worked on the windshield using an ice scraper with the price sticker still attached, Colleen noted a mismatched side panel and several dents that had been patched and primed but not painted.
    She watched for a couple of minutes before she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Will you let me do that?”
    Shay handed her the scraper, eyebrows raised. Colleen, wishing she’d brought thicker gloves than her thin leather driving ones, scored a crosshatch of scratches in the ice with the point of the scraper, then chipped away the segmented areas with brief, hard jabs of the blade. A fine dusting of ice blew in her face as the ice came off in chunks, her body warming to the task.
    â€œDamn,” Shay said admiringly.
    â€œI didn’t get to park my car in a garage until I was thirty,” Colleen said, feeling awkwardly proud. “I’ve been scraping windshields since I was a kid. My dad used to give me a quarter to do his before work.”
    â€œWhere did you grow up?”
    â€œMaine. Little inland town called Limerock. My dad worked for the railroad.”
    Inside the car, they put their hands in the blast of the heating vents, waiting for the wipers to sweep away the last of the snow. Colleen tried not to look like she was checking out the interior. The leather seats were worn and split, the seams popped and the foam visible underneath. A feather-and-bead ornament swayed gently from the rearview mirror. In the console were a handful of coins, a half-empty pack of gum, and a cheap lighter. The cup holder bore a dried coffee ring.
    But other than the ring, the car was surprisingly tidy. Colleen had anticipated crumpled fast-food bags, a smell of stale coffee and unwashed flesh, dirt in all the crevices. Instead, it was every bit as clean as her Lexus back home.
    Shay eased the Explorer into drive and did a tight three-point turn, heading back into town.
    â€œJesus, how can you stand to drive in this stuff? I’m a nervous wreck,” she said, turning onto Fourth Avenue, Lawton’s four-lane main street. Behind them, a truck bore down at what seemed an unsafe speed, tapping the horn as he passed.
    â€œYou get used to it, I guess,” Colleen said, watching the scenery go by. The town looked cleaner in the light of day, dusted with fresh snow, but also less appealing. The busy traffic didn’t make up for the fact that the buildings they passed were run-down, low-slung brick and cinder-block shops appointed with modest signage and fronted with slushy parking lots. A huge billboard over a church parking lot advertised a cigarette shop. A school bus passed in the other direction, its wipers resolutely pushing off the swirling snow that had started up again.
    Shay pulled into a massive gas station with two sets of bays, one for trucks and one for cars. Pickups mostly kept to the car side, but a jacked-up model with enormous tires idled next to the pumps on the truck side. A sign large enough to be seen from the other end of town said STAR SUPER PLAZA FUEL—SHOWERS—DINER—HOT COFFEE—24 HOURS. The word CLEAN flashed in neon underneath.
    Shay found a space up next to the restaurant and cut the engine.
    â€œHere?” Colleen asked.
    â€œYeah, what did you expect?”
    â€œI don’t know.”