She backed out of the driveway at Izzy’s house and with tires screeching headed down the block to Abby’s house. Yellow police tape remained stretched around portions of the back porch area where the shooting had occurred. She ran to the front door and pounded. She was surprised when Abby opened it. “You’re out on bail already?” “Personal recognizance. No big deal shooting a prowler in this state.” “Is Jamie here?” Sandy shouted. “No,” Abby said, “and you couldn’t see her if she was. I just got here. Most likely she’s down at Izzy Palmer’s.” “She isn’t there. She took off on her bike!” “Oh, okay. So she’ll be home.” Abby started to close the door. “Will you get out of here? I don’t want to talk to you.” “But what about Jamie? We need to look for her.” “She’ll show up when she gets hungry enough or it gets dark enough.” “Are you sure? Has she done this before?” “Before? Hell, this is her life. I don’t know where she goes.
