EMP Catastrophe , Hamilton, Grace [crime books to read txt] 📗

to the front. The line was long, and as they waited, Allison tumbled from outspoken indignation to seething, silent rage. The cashier frantically copied down credit card numbers, refusing certain purchases over a specific limit to the outraged grumble of others. As soon as they got to the front, Kathleen slapped all the cash she had on hand down and put the rest on her credit card. Allison glared at her openly. The cashier wrote Kathleen out a receipt, eyes darting between her and Allison, wisely keeping her chirping greeting to a minimum.

Outside, a warm breeze brushed against Kathleen’s face. She hopped on her bike, waiting for Allison to follow. Allison stared at her and finally said, “I’m not going with you. I’m going to see Kaycee.”

“Allison, listen. I’m not letting you head out on your own with everything that’s going on. I know you’re upset, but we aren’t going to stay in the city. We need to backtrack and head home. This is the best solution.”

“You can go, then. I’m staying.”

“Listen to me, young lady.” Kathleen could feel anger bubbling inside of her ready to catch and flare. “You are acting like a child, and until you are out of my house you will obey me, do you understand?”

Allison swallowed hard. “I don’t want to.”

“You don’t have a choice. In a year, you’ll be on your own and can do whatever you want. But right now? I make the rules. And I’m not going to have you wandering the streets of Chicago so you can paint your nails with Kyleen or Kristy or whatever her name is. I get that you’re mad, but you do not want to push me.”

For a moment, Kathleen didn’t think Allison would listen to her. Finally, Allison huffed and slammed her leg over her bike, glowering at Kathleen. Kathleen shook, her victory hollow. She didn’t like having to be so mean to Allison. The two of them rarely fought, so having to pull out her big mom-guns was something she didn’t like to do. Allison could be angry—she understood Allison’s disappointment, and she never wanted her children to feel like their feelings weren’t valid—but there was a level of maturity that hadn’t been reached yet. Kathleen wasn’t going to stand for a teenage tantrum because Allison didn’t get what she wanted.

The fear in Kathleen’s belly amplified as they took off down the street, the sound of their tires smooth against the concrete. All she wanted was to go home and see Matthew, but she couldn’t. Not yet. She had one more stop to make before they could pedal home.

The warehouse was on a lot of derelict land, the building near collapse with flaking paint and a crumbling door. The surrounding neighborhood was in a similar state. Even so, a marquee indicated that the warehouse was occupied by a range of businesses. Kathleen had barely worked up a sweat on the ride to the building, even though it had been a silent journey. Allison punished her with one mind-trip of a silent treatment, but Kathleen didn’t care. She almost relished the silence instead of the constant whining about how she’d betrayed her daughter’s trust by not letting her see Kelsey. Kylie. Ugh, Matthew would’ve remembered what Allison’s friend was named.

Maybe she was becoming like David.

Dismounting her bike, she walked up to the building with trepidation. “I’m going to use the bathroom real quick.”

Allison cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. “In there? It’s abandoned.”

“There’s a business. Look.” Kathleen pointed to the faded white paint on the front that said Levi’s Warehouse.

“That’s what you’re going with?” Allison shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

“Yeah,” Kathleen said, handing the bike to Allison to hold. “Be right back.”

“Whatever,” Allison said, waving her hand in dismissal.

Silence surrounded Kathleen as she entered the building. Dust filtered down from the rafters, disturbed after she’d shut the door hard behind her. Shuttered doors faced her on either side, along with a directory, indicating where each business was housed. While the place appeared to be downtrodden and broken, it was huge. Kathleen had to admit that Chicago was an expensive place. It made sense that businesses would take a risk on a low-grade rental like this to start out.

A set of stairs looped up to a second level. A set of metal-backed chairs stood off to the side in a makeshift reception area. A piece of old cabinetry had been nailed into the wall, covered in oil and wood chips, but what caught her eye wasn’t that the piece must have been an antique, but a red and white sticker plastered on one of the cabinet doors that read, “Virginia is for Lovers.”

She couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud.

Max, you stupid brilliant idiot. She remembered him whispering it to her in the prison, recalled an older memory of a childhood trip out east to Virginia to visit semi-estranged family members. The sticker-ad had been everywhere, and Max had thought it hilarious—saying it at the end of every conversation as if it were a lewd joke. Her aunt had pulled Max aside and explained the history of the sticker, that it wasn't just a joke, and it was one of the first times she remembered seeing Max take something seriously. Chastened, he’d left to walk the beach alone, but Kathleen had followed him and found him standing knee-deep in the ocean. His usual flashy winks were replaced with a pensive look. She'd bumped his shoulder, told him to chill out. He put his arms around her in a hug and said, “I promise I have more substance to me than you think.” In that moment, Kathleen discovered her younger brother was so much more than she'd realized. A lesson she kept learning.

“Virginia is for Lovers,” she said quietly and pulled the sticker-coated cabinet door open. Inside, nestled a nylon bag. Dust flew into her face as she dislodged it. Zipping it open, she ruffled through a change of clothes, tennis shoes, a plastic bag with rolls