CHAPTER FOUR
CRY ME A RIVER
With baskets full, we again headed for the back door. “Wait,” whispered Blondella. “Do you hear that?”
We froze and tilted our ears up. “Moaning,” I lamented, the frown sagging on my face.
“And lots of it,” added Kit, who then moved to a window a few feet from the door. She lifted the shade and threw a moan in herself. “I, um, think we were followed.”
We all moved to the window and glumly stared outside. “The alleyway is full of them,” I made note, heart racing like it was suddenly competing at the Indy 500. Which meant our bikes were no longer an option. And without them, we were back to square one. Heck, we weren’t even on the playing board anymore. “Suggestions?”
Kit reached into her basket and pulled out a 3 Musketeers. It was halfway done before I cou
