The Nobody Girls (Kendra Dillon Cold Case Thriller Book 3), Rebecca Rane [best book club books of all time txt] 📗

That’s where we debate. If I am blessed, does that mean Sincere was cursed? There was nothing she’d done differently than I had to deserve to be cursed.”

“That’s quite a religious debate,” Kendra said.

“I suppose it is. We both had troubles. I’m not proud of some of my time then, but I’m not running from it either. We had troubles, we came from troubles, and we did the best we could, Sincere and I did.”

“How?”

“Turning tricks for money. We both did. We didn’t have to say it, but we both knew the other had been abused coming up. An uncle in her case. In mine, a series of my mother’s deadbeat boyfriends.”

Kendra listened, and Ophelia opened up about her shared past with Sincere.

“We both worked on the Cass Corridor at spots, sometimes this street we’re on now. But things got more dangerous, or so we thought.”

“Did something happen?”

“Our pimp, he’d beat up one of our friends, bad, then me, and we thought, well, if he’s doing that to us, why should we keep working for him? We thought we were really smart. So, we took a bus out of here.”

“To the highway?”

“Yes, we got the idea to work the travel plazas and truck stops. It was safer than the downtown back then—or, well, I guess it wasn’t. But we thought it was safer.”

Kendra had a sense of Ophelia, bright, bold, and honest, but still didn’t know about Sincere.

“What was Sincere like?”

“She was funny, she was so funny. She did an impression of Cher that was better than a comedian on Carol Burnett.” Ophelia put her hand on her hip and let the other hand go limp, like Cher. “She’d put her tongue on the side, you know?”

“That’s perfect,” Kendra said.

“Yeah, she was funny. That’s the thing I miss the most. How funny she was.”

“How long were you friends?”

“From the time we both started working for a Jimmy, and then we both were doing so well that Coco Tone came in and took over. He was the one that beat me within an inch of my life.”

Kendra winced at the thought of anyone hurting this sweet woman.

“They’re all dead now. Good riddance to the two, but sweet Sincere didn’t get to see the good that what was possible in this life.”

“What else should we know about her?”

“That she was a good friend to me. That was a big part of why we both decided to strike out on our own. I wish it wasn’t what had killed her. I still carry guilt about that. Pastor says it is not my burden, the evil of others, but it feels like it still.”

“What happened the last time you saw her?”

“We took the bus to the truck stop. We had three different ones that we picked out. We could loiter around without getting kicked out. Anyway, we went out there. That part is sort of a blur. We’d done it a few times, so my mind can’t remember the last time as any different than the other times. So, there’s nothing different about it. I expect that means nothing stood out. Other than how nice it was to ride the bus and not walk all the time and not worry about tripping on my platform shoes. We got to Wolverine Fuel Stop, it was called. It’s gone now, a Flying L now, big chain. Anyway, we got there. Sincere hugged me. I remember that, and I hugged her back. She said, in the middle of the hug, ‘I call the backlot.’ See, she tricked me with that hug. We usually both wanted backlot because you stood less of a chance of getting shoed out of the place. Less weaving and dodging a nosy manager or a state policeman looking to trade but not looking to pay. I called her a brat then for tricking me with that hug. And I went to the front.”

“Was that it?”

“No, it wasn’t. I saw her one time more, talking to one of the regulars.”

“Regulars?”

“We weren’t the only ones that worked that spot. There were a lot of different trades, truckers, delivery people, salesman that brought in that gas station’s food, drug dealers, beer distributors, the guys that worked the counter, and just lizard types that slithered in and out.”

“She was talking to a regular. It wasn’t a client.”

“No, no, not a client. I wish I did see who she went off with. Maybe I could have helped.”

“What happened then, the rest of the night?”

“I did my job, to not be more specific, you get the idea. I don’t remember those details, or I don’t choose to spend my emotions on those moments. I needed a short memory for those things, or else I’d drown in all of it.”

“Did you look for her after?” Kendra said as delicately as she could.

“I did. We usually rode back into town on the morning bus, but sometimes we didn’t, so it wasn’t that unusual that I couldn’t find her.”

“What then?”

“A day or two went by, and I had a feeling, just the worst feeling of my life. I knew that it wasn’t some lark or some Pretty Woman situation, you know what I mean? I knew evil had been done to her and that I was next. It wanted me too if I kept walking in its path. That’s what we did, walked where it was, and it found us.”

“When did you hear about what happened to her?”

“It was Coco Tone that came to the place I was staying, hoping to rub my face in it, maybe get me back working for him. He was telling me that’s what happened if you did it on your own.”

“Did you think he killed Sincere?”

“I didn’t know, didn’t rule it out, but it did change my life, that’s for sure.”

“How so?”

“I came here—well, I came to Paster William’s smaller church, when he was planting it in the YWCA. I stayed there at first and then found employment. I worked at Van Dyke Dry Cleaners too”.

“Did