CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Curly GrenadeKit dragged herself to the second WWC meeting of the weekend, aware she needed to get up at four the next morning to resume her early shifts at Mr Rashid’s convenience store. Raki lent her his decrepit Toyota to stop her Bug attracting any more police interest. She found the rural address behind the sprawling humanity of Huntly West and parked in the only free space on the grass verge. Nerves assailed her shaking hand as she lifted it to knock on the front door of a timber clad house. The woman who’d phoned her earlier told her just to walk in, but it didn’t seem appropriate.
A shriek greeted her sharp rap and Kit shot back a few paces, almost pitching off the narrow porch.
“She’s here!” The door whipped open, an arm shot out, and grasping fingers snatc
