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Mount Albert was an inner-city suburb that had been built on the remains of an extinct volcano. The streets here curved and rolled. Ethnic shops and restaurants sat on every corner, and the air was tinged with the scent of herbs and spices.
Kendra had the taxi driver drop her off at the intersection of Balmoral and Dominion, and she hit the pavement, performing a surveillance-detection run.
She looped left around the block, then looped right.
She ventured into side lanes that led her past brick-and-tile houses, then doubled back out.
Everything looked good. She had been clean since she got here, and she had stayed clean. And yet... she felt anxious, as if worms were crawling in her veins, chewing her from the inside out.
What was this?
Fear? Doubt? Paranoia?
Blinking hard, she dug out the packet of medication that she carried in her pocket. She popped it open, palmed two pills and slapped them into her mouth. She gulped them, and they went down hard, leaving a bitter aftertaste.
She could only hope that they would keep her going.
But for how long?
It occurred to her that she had pushed herself too hard already; pushed herself too far. And everything that had happened today was putting a terrible strain on her ability to cope.
Maybe she was in real danger of falling off the edge and plunging back into madness.
Kendra shook her head and scrunched up her face.
I have to hold on. I have to see this thing through. For Ryan’s sake. For mine.
She performed one last sweep before closing in on the community library. It was a squat building at the bottom of a slope, surrounded by shady trees, charming in a rustic sort of way.
Kendra circled the library, taking the chance to peer through the windows.
She saw only youngsters and pensioners.
Nothing threatening.
She made for the entrance, and the automatic doors whooshed open.
A teenage girl with spiky hair and droopy eyes immediately approached her. ‘They say it’ll rain the day after tomorrow.’
Kendra hesitated. She sure as hell wasn’t expecting this, but the challenge was legit. So she answered with the correct countersign. ‘It’d better rain. The grass on my lawn is turning brown already.’
‘Here you go.’ The girl passed her a sealed envelope, then walked away.
Kendra tilted her head and tore open the envelope.
She unfolded the piece of paper inside.
It was a handwritten note from Jim Braddock.
Meet you at the end of Lyon Avenue.