“Probably not. I’ll call it.” He started to punch numbers into his phone. Something I hadn’t thought of. If my pocket started ringing, he was going to get suspicious. And for good reason. I pulled his arm, making him juggle his phone, a look of annoyance crossing his face. “Calm down. It’s just a phone.”

“You know what, it’s probably in the car,” I said. “I should look.”

The movement behind the window got louder—hollow footsteps that matched ours—and a woman appeared at the counter.

“Right now?” he asked. “Can’t it wait?”

“I won’t be able to relax until I have it. It’s got important things on it.” I turned my back to the window and lowered my voice. “You can handle this until I get back, can’t you?”

“Of course I can. The car’s unlocked.”

“I’ll be right back, I swear,” I said, heading for the door.

I wondered if he knew I was lying. Probably. He was pretty good at knowing what I was going to do even when I didn’t know what I was going to do.

I shut the trailer door softly behind me, and then sprinted across the gravel. I didn’t have all the time in the world; I had to get moving fast. I jogged along the fence line, looking for anywhere that might have some sort of breach. A hole, maybe, or a place near the ground where an animal had bent the wire pushing his way in. I ran all the way to the far end, where the fence turned into a small grove of trees, littered with rusty car parts and old tires. No holes, no breaches. I was going to have to climb.

Quickly, I scanned the lot for a watchdog or a person or a camera. Surely there was a camera somewhere, but I didn’t see one, and I figured if I didn’t see it, it probably didn’t see me. The cars at the back looked like they’d been there a long time and had mostly been used for parts, so it was probably a safe bet that they didn’t bother to monitor comings and goings. I glanced at the trailer—the door was shut, so Chris was either still waiting for me inside, or he was arguing his case. My case. Whatever. The case.

I had to move fast.

Ducking, I raced over to the cluster of trees—tall weeds slapping against my shins—while praying that I wouldn’t step on a snake or a rabid animal’s nest or a colony of ground hornets. I kept going deeper, until I reached a spot where the weeds and limbs were intertwined in the chain link. I couldn’t get any more covered than this.