“You were playin’ with fire, meetin’ him there,” he said angrily. “Playin’ with fire meetin’ him anywhere! You know the Klan likes to get together back in them woods. One of them must have seen you. Seen that boy come to meet you and told the others.”
“Let me take your truck!”
“C’mon, honey, settle down,” he said. “You need to ice that ankle.” He went to the refrigerator and pulled the ice tray from the freezer compartment. “Let’s just sit tight tonight. We’ll figure it all out in the morning.”
“What do you mean, sit tight?” I shouted.
“Sh.” He cracked open the ice tray over the sink. “Do you want to have to explain to Mama why you’re upset?”
But I wasn’t listening. The path was clear between me and the key rack. I jumped up and grabbed the key to his truck and took off out the back door, gritting my teeth against the pain in my ankle.
Behind me, I heard him drop the ice tray into the sink. “All right!” he shouted. “I’ll go with you. You’re gonna get yourself killed out there. Let me drive.”
I let him get in behind the wheel. “Go to Reed’s,” I said from the passenger seat. “But slow. We have to look along the street for…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, choking on the words. I imagined seeing Win, bloody and near dead, along the side of the road.
Buddy started driving, turning onto Round Hill Road, dark and empty this time of night. I sat on the edge of the seat, my gaze darting left and right, searching for Win in the cone of yellow light from the truck’s headlights.
“Why’d you do it, Ellie?” Buddy pounded his fist on the steering wheel. “Why’d you let yourself get mixed up with him? You knew it’d come to no good.”
It was too dark to see his face, but I heard the emotion in his voice: he was choked up. No matter how wrong he thought I was, no matter how stupid, he loved me. He didn’t want me hurt.
Reed’s house was dark. His parents’ car was in the driveway but his truck was missing. That sent a fresh wave of terror through me. Where had he taken Win? Where were they now and what were they doing to him?
“He ain’t here,” Buddy said.
“Pull into the driveway,” I commanded.
Buddy pulled into the driveway and I staggered out of the truck even before he came to a stop, nearly falling when I put weight on my ankle. He caught up to me and I leaned on him as I hobbled to the front door, where I pressed the bell over and over again.
Buddy grabbed my hand. “He ain’t here, Ellie! You can see that. You’re just gonna wake his parents.”
A light came on in the living room and a moment later the front door opened. I was ready to bombard Reed’s mother or father with questions, but it was Reed himself standing in front of us. He had on jeans with no belt and his plaid shirt was unbuttoned over his white undershirt. He wore a look of confusion. I wasn’t buying it. I started screaming at him. Pounding on him.
“Where did you take him?” I shouted. “Where is he, you son of a bitch?”
“Hush, honey!” Buddy grabbed my arms. Held them at my sides.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Reed asked.
“Where’s your truck?” Buddy asked him.
“What did you do with Win?” I shouted.
“My truck’s at your car shop,” he said to Buddy. “I dropped it off after work to get that bumper fixed and got a ride home.” Then he looked at me. “And I didn’t do anything with anybody,” he said.
I looked at Buddy, feeling a slim bit of hope that it hadn’t been Reed’s truck after all. That Reed had no part in this mess. “Is that true? His truck’s at your shop?”
Reed answered before Buddy could. “The shop was closed.” He looked at Buddy again. “I left it there for you to take a look at in the morning. Dropped the keys through the slot in your door and put a note on the windshield. My left rear bumper’s bashed in.”
“What time did you leave it?” Buddy asked, loosening his hold on my arms.
“Right after I got out of work. Around six. Six thirty.”
“Nobody else has a truck like yours around here, Reed,” I said.
Reed looked from me to my brother and back again. “What the hell’s going on?” he asked.
I started crying, suddenly exhausted. I leaned against Buddy; he was practically holding me up. “You couldn’t handle it,” I said to Reed. “You couldn’t handle me being with someone else. I hope you suffer the way he suffered. What did you do with—”