He sighed, but didn’t stop her. So she grabbed her car keys, tossed a baseball bat into her car trunk and pepper spray into her tote bag, and headed for the lot. Her hands trembled. Her mind raced. But she kept on driving and didn’t stop until she arrived at the run-down neighborhood.
Gabby arrived in Brookfield just past two. The streets were sun-bleached and silent, lined with leaning fences and boarded-up windows. She parked discreetly in a shadowy alley and pulled her hoodie over her head, sunglasses slipping into place. She didn’t have the exact house number, just the license plate etched in her mind.