Last Known Address. Elizabeth Wrenn

probably wouldn’t mind an inverted spike collar, at the moment.

      ‘Wow. She has a big bladder for such a little dog,’ said Shelly, who had appeared by Meg’s side. ‘Boy. Look at her go.’

      M.J.’s eyes were glassy and fixed. Meg tried not to look below, but found herself mesmerized by the pee moving across the asphalt. It was meandering down the slight grade, toward a dry ditch on the side of the road. C.C. was waiting, still sitting on the end of the car seat, door open, her spiky heels hooked on the edge of the car frame, staring at M.J., directly at her feet.