she’d finally turned to Christ.
Leaving her church family behind in Louisiana without so much as a goodbye had been hard for Marie. Those wonderful people cared about her, truly cared. And they would be so worried when they realized she had left town without a single parting word.
Sighing, Marie watched the mechanic move from side to side and tap on parts of her car’s motor. She had no idea what was wrong, nor did she care. All that mattered was getting the car fixed and being on her way again.
If the man hadn’t acted so friendly to begin with, she might have been put off by his rustic looks and grease-streaked clothing. She didn’t expect a garage worker to wear a suit, of course, but the employees of the place where she went to have her oil changed dressed in neat coveralls. This man’s tattered jeans and short-sleeved shirt looked anything but professional.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” she finally asked.
He straightened, grinning, and wiped his hands on an already dirty rag. “The boss thinks I do. But if you want to go on down the road, you’re welcome to.”
“Do you think my car will make it very far?”
“Honestly? No. I suspect you got some dirty gas the last time you filled up. Where was that?”
She wanted to snap at him, to tell him it was none of his business, but she stifled the urge. He wasn’t asking anything that a normal person wouldn’t be glad to answer. Rather than admit that her trip was far from typical, she shrugged. “Beats me. I didn’t pay much attention. We’ve just been kind of rambling across the country.”
“I see. I noticed the Louisiana plates and figured you were probably headed north.”
The license plates! She’d been so upset she hadn’t thought of that. “I—I borrowed the car from a friend,” Marie alibied. “She lives down there. I’m actually from Texas.”
Her daughter tugged on her hand and looked up at her. “Mama? No, we’re…”
“That’s enough, Patty,” Marie said, purposely interrupting. “You and I will go get an ice cream while this man works on our car. How does that sound?”
“Chocolate,” the five-year-old said. “Two scoops.”
“Fine.” She turned back to the mechanic. “I’ll trust you to do whatever the car needs, within reason. Can you have it running soon?”
“I can try,” Seth answered. He pointed. “There’s a café on the square that has good food. And Hickory Station, about half a block that way, sells ice cream and snacks.”
“Thanks.”
Hesitant to leave her belongings unattended, Marie nevertheless grabbed her purse from the front seat and walked off. She figured it was best to get Patty away from the service station before the child revealed too much. She knew it was wrong to lie, let alone to ask an innocent child to do so, but in this situation she was certain the good Lord would forgive them. After all, He was the one who now had their lives in His hands, the one who had promised to look after His children.
Marie started to smile in spite of all her worries. If that rough-looking guy with the sandy-gray hair was supposed to be a Heaven-sent guardian in disguise, his masquerade was working. He surely didn’t look the part.
He’d had nice eyes, though, she mused. Blue, like the summer sky, with tinges of gray to match his hair and little smile wrinkles at the outer corners. He didn’t appear to be very old, but she supposed it was possible for a man to be turning gray in his thirties, which was roughly what she estimated his age to be.
Pausing and waiting for passing cars before crossing the peaceful, tree-lined street, she glanced back at the service station.
Instead of working on her car as he’d promised, the man was standing beside it with his hands fisted on his hips. His eyes were shaded by his ball cap, but she could tell he was looking directly at her.
She stared back at him. He didn’t flinch. His intense, unwavering concentration gave her the shivers from her nape to her toes.
Grabbing Patty’s hand, she half dragged the little girl as she hurried across the street. The sooner they were back on the road and heading for parts unknown, the happier she’d be.
The only question now was how she could either change cars or find another license plate that wouldn’t reveal her origin. If she’d been a thief like Roy, she’d have simply stolen one. Being an honest person could be difficult at times, couldn’t it?
She glanced Heavenward. “Father, how about leaving a discarded license plate along the road somewhere, huh? I know it’s a lot to ask, but…”
“Mama?”
“Yes, honey?”
“Are you praying?”
“Yes, Patty,” Marie said with a nod. “I sure am.”
“Good,” the little girl answered, hurrying to keep pace with her mother’s rapid strides, “’cause you lied and I don’t want God to be mad at you.”
TWO
Seth frowned. He had an uneasy feeling about that woman. Oh, she’d seemed innocent enough at first, but she’d definitely wanted to hide where she’d come from, so there was no telling what else about her story was false.
The real question was, why not tell the truth? Was she the stranded motorist she pretended to be, or was there a more sinister reason for her supposed breakdown? He hadn’t thought his enemies would use a child to get to him, but that woman looked enough like his late wife to be her younger sister. Same light reddish-brown hair, same few freckles, same long lashes and beautiful brown eyes.
That uncanny resemblance gave him pause. If someone was trying to send him a message or make sure his real identity was exposed, what better way to do it than through a pretty woman pretending to be in distress?
He turned back to the car. If she was a planted informant and he let her go, there was no telling how long it would be before someone else followed. Perhaps someone more lethal. If he kept her in town for a few more days and checked her background, however, he’d have a better idea whether or not his real identity had been discovered.
It made sense to know his foes up front, he told himself. And it looked as if it wasn’t going to be easy to repair the woman’s car without disassembling the fuel system, so that would give him overnight, at least.
He slipped into the passenger’s seat and popped open the glove box. The car was registered to a Marie Parnell. If the driver had actually borrowed this vehicle from a friend, that friend must be named Parnell. That, or the woman had fibbed about where she’d gotten the car.
Either way, it looked as if he’d offered to be a good Samaritan for a bald-faced liar. He just hoped he hadn’t made a big, big mistake. Then again, it wouldn’t be his first.
He huffed in self-disgust. One mistake had cost him dearly. He just wished he’d recognized the looming danger in time to have saved Alice’s life. Perhaps, if he hadn’t been so caught up in his work, he’d have realized that she was planning to file for divorce and
