Free Kiss the Morning Star by Elissa Janine Hoole Page B

she shouts in my ear. “What should we do? Motel, you think?”
    I’m facing the parking lot, so I’m the one to see the squad car drive up. My heart instantly goes into a tap-dancing routine on speed. “Oh my god!” I push Kat back from the corner of the building, toward the alley behind. “It’s the cops!”
    Even with her natural skill of composure, Kat’s face still registers a little flash of fear.
    “It’s those guys we ran over!” The grim headlines return to my mind, and I can see it all laid out in front of us—jail, court, testimony, even prison. I imagine my dad’s face gone all skeletal with worry, that lank gray hair he used to keep so clean and shiny clinging to his disappointed face.
    It takes Kat only a second to regain control. “For the last time,” she shouts, “we did not run anybody over!”
    We scramble back around the corner of the building, leaning into the wind. Kat pushes me the last fifteen feet toward the door. “Go, you moron!” Her hands are firm on my shoulders. “Get a hold of yourself. It’s just the local police.”
    I consider this. It would probably be some other kind of law enforcement, if they were tracking down two hit-and-run killers who had crossed the state line, wouldn’t it? The thought casts enough doubt in my mind to propel me inside, though I swear my wrists can already feel the weighty shackles snapping shut.
    “The whole north side of town ain’t got power,” the cop says as we enter, struggling to close the door against the bluster outside. His rodentlike face twitches with importance. “This storm rollin’ in, gonna be out all rest of the weekend, I reckon.”
    Oh, thank God. He’s here about the weather, that’s all. My spastic heart slows to a nervous trot.
    The cop turns to face us, nods, and twists his face into a smile. “That your little Toyota in the shop?” he asks.
    Kat nods, pressing her lips together.
    “Long way from Minnesota, ain’t ya?” He says Minnesota like Mini-soda, and I’m struck by the thought of one of those tiny little cans of soda pop. I don’t exactly giggle, but enough amusement shows on my face that the cop narrows his eyes. Cops are so suspicious of a good time. I have to dig my fingernails into my palms to stop smiling.
    “You girls stayin’ in town, then?” His eyes are shrewd, and his narrow lips quiver.
    Kat slips her arm tightly around my waist and gives him a saucy smile. “We might stay all week,” she says, raising her voice over a sudden groan of wind that shakes the whole building.
    I watch the nervous little man’s face flicker with conflicting emotions as he eyes the two of us, Kat with her grinning and me biting on the edge of my finger. It’s like he wants to find us guilty of something, but he can’t quite decide what.
    At least he doesn’t seem to react to our license plates. If the guys from the Sage Creek Campground had been able to remember the plates, or the model of our car, that information would have been disseminated to all law enforcement in the area. Either those guys had been too drunk to notice or remember the information, or Gillette, Wyoming, was far enough away to escape notice, at least for today. I pull my hand away from my mouth and curl it into a fist. What about tomorrow? And the next day? Tuesday is a long ways away. Anything could happen.
    “You’re not planning on being here too much longer, then, are you, Leroy?” The cop talks to our mechanic, who shrugs. “I’ll drive by a coupla times tonight and tomorrow, like usual, make sure everything is in order. If you lose power over on this end, I’ll come through a little more often.”
    “Oh, you know, that’s okay,” says Leroy. “I mean, things will be fine. I’m just going to see what I can do for these girls and then head home. Have a good night, now, Officer Henley.”
    The cop nods to the woman. “Evening, Donna. You take care now!” He tips his hat to the little boy and then hurries out to the