39 Nora
When Nora reached Gig Harbor at three o’clock on Monday afternoon, the azure sky was cloudless. Bright sunlight glinted off the shiny cars parked in the lot at Washington Corrections Center for Women. She parked her rented Ford in an empty slot and got out. A balmy breeze kissed her face and she breathed in sea air.
The weather gods were smiling on her today. Hell, all the gods were beaming.
She trotted toward the steel gate in the tall chainlink fence in front of the institution’s public entrance.
She imagined Quinn in Walla Walla, on the other side of the state. He’d breach similar barriers to reach Trevor and walk him out of Washington State Penitentiary.
Damn, it felt so good when things went so right.
The lock clicked open and she pushed through the gate. Today, she didn
