Chapter Twenty-Nine
The ride to wherever Tamryn thought Claudia might be was a silent one. The last comment had come from me upon seeing yet another one of her vehicles in the parking lot—this one, a beat-up Ford Escort that had probably seen its last best days a decade earlier. Though I hadn’t made any reference to its condition—I was more interested in the owner—Tamryn had defiantly jutted out her chin, looked me in the eye and stated, “A friend lent it to me for the day. Let’s just leave it at that.”
I’d put up my hands in surrender before swiping pop cans, empty potato chip bags and a variety of chocolate-encrusted candy wrappers onto the floor, careful not to step on the glob of gum that was nestled among the heap.
Whoever owned it was either a teenager or someone who did stakeouts
