rolled his eyes. As if he was going to fall for that.
“Stay right there!” Tyler ordered, as he positioned himself on his motorcycle and waited for Joanna to settle on the pillion.
“If you try to follow us, we’ll have no choice but to shoot,” he shouted before starting up the engine and drowning out Crusher’s reply.
“Keep your gun trained on him,” he yelled to Joanna, holstering his own weapon. “And hold on to me tight.”
With that, he roared down the street and headed for the open road.
* * *
Joanna leaned against the wall of the gas station while Tyler filled up the motorcycle. It was after midnight, and they had crossed the state line into Arkansas, traveling on clear roads like a bullet. But she was frozen to the core. Tyler had given her his padded jacket, yet her teeth still chattered.
Tyler walked over to her, the visor of his helmet threaded through his forearm and resting in the crook of his elbow. He handed her a cup of coffee, purchased from a machine, and she took it gratefully. The warmth of the cardboard cup in her hands was exquisite.
“The cashier says there’s a twenty-four-hour motel about two miles down this road. I think we should check in for the night and get some rest before we make a plan.”
Joanna glanced anxiously down the dark highway, straight and deserted, stretching into the starry horizon. The gas station was lit up like a beacon in the blackness, with just one lonely male cashier sitting behind bars, reading a sports magazine.
“Do you think somebody followed us?” she asked.
“I doubt it. There’s no way anyone could hide away on these roads.” He stared into the distance. The sky was free of clouds and as black as oil, lit by millions of stars. “I forgot how special Missouri skies can be.”
“I hate to remind you,” she said, giving him a gentle nudge. “But we’re in Arkansas.”
He nudged her back. “Same difference. It’s the same sky.”
They both stood in silence for a few moments, gazing at the stars, mentally preparing themselves for the task ahead: the job of proving her innocence. She thought of how her life had become a disaster in just a matter of hours. She had woken up that morning as an undercover officer assisting a drug task force. Now she assumed there was a warrant out for her arrest.
She felt Tyler’s arm curl around her, and she let her head drop onto his shoulder. If she could, she would fall asleep right there on her feet like a horse.
“However long it takes,” he said, “we’ll get to the truth.”
His words comforted her but also reminded her of her lack of preparedness. She looked down at the bag by her feet. “All I have in my possession are a couple of guns and a lot of ammo.” She tried to raise a smile. “And that isn’t even mine. I don’t have any money at all.”
He left his fingers splayed on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of expenses. Since I joined the SEALs, I’ve always kept cash, a passport, a weapon and a cell phone in a locked safe just in case I need them.”
“Wow,” she said. “I guess you like to be ready for every eventuality.”
“The SEALs taught me to always be prepared. Life has a funny way of throwing you a curveball when you least expect it.”
“And life just threw you the biggest curveball of all,” she said, stealing a glance at his pensive face. “How are you holding up? I know this must be really hard for you, like learning to walk again.”
He turned his head and looked down at her. “To tell you the truth, I still can’t make much sense of it. I keep closing my eyes and concentrating really hard, but all I see are the hillsides of Afghanistan.” He pulled the photograph from his pocket. “I keep seeing these five men.” He sighed. “In my mind, this is where I still am. I just wish I knew how and why I ended up back in Godspeed. How could I turn my back on my unit, on my life in Virginia, on everything that I hold sacred?”
“You didn’t turn your back on any of those things,” she said, positioning her body to face him. “You just took a different path. From what you told me, you thought that God was guiding you back home to Yardley County.”
He knit his eyebrows. “I said that?”
“Yes.”
Joanna had always found Tyler’s strong trust in God uplifting, bolstering her own waning faith. She couldn’t see how God would lead her down such a cruel path. She had assumed she had done something wrong and was now being punished. But Tyler’s faith was unshakable, and she frequently took solace in it, wrapping herself in his conviction that God listened to all prayers.
He smiled broadly. “Well, if God guided me back home, then it must be for a good reason. I appreciate you telling me that.”
He slipped his hand into hers. Tyler was very tactile, and showing affection came easy to him, but she was different.
“You look beat,” he said, leading her toward the motorcycle, its blue paint polished to a gleaming shine. “Let’s get some sleep and make a plan in the morning.”
“Thank you, Tyler,” she said. “Even though you’re dealing with some pretty intense emotions right now, you’re still committed to helping me, and I’m grateful.”
He looked skyward, clearly troubled. “The word intense doesn’t even come close to describing how I’m feeling right now. I’m used to being in control, knowing how to identify the enemy, knowing who I can trust.”
“You can trust me,” she said. “I promise.”
He brought his face down to meet hers. “I’m taking a big chance on you, Deputy, so I hope you don’t mind if I ask you some tough questions later on. It’s not easy to trust a stranger.”
This comment stung. “We’re not strangers,” she said. “Not by a long shot.”
“We’re as good as strangers to me,” he said. “That’s the way I see it right now, at least until my memories start to return. So I’m asking you to be totally open and honest with me, no matter what. Can you do that?”
She imagined Tyler prying into her past, her battle with cancer and the toll it had taken on her. She hated talking about it and usually downplayed her feelings to hide the pain.
“Sure,” she replied. “You can ask me anything.”
She hoped he didn’t hear the hesitancy in her voice. He could ask her whatever he wanted, but she might not tell the whole truth.
* * *
Tyler woke early, just on the cusp of dawn. He sat bolt upright, taking in his surroundings. He saw a clean, functional room with well-worn furniture and peeling wallpaper, slightly nicotine stained at the top. That was when he remembered he was in a low grade motel, and Joanna was in an adjoining room, connected by an inner door.
He checked his watch: 7:15 a.m. He usually didn’t sleep so late, but he was glad of the
