an extra hamburger, in case you might want one.”
“Maybe I’ll eat it later. Just leave it on the seat.”
No “Thanks.” No sign of gratitude for her thoughtfulness. Nicole’s mouth tightened. “You’re welcome, Officer Hannigan,” she said with piercing sarcasm.
He shot her a dark look. “I only asked for coffee. But if it’s so important to you, thank you very much.”
He’d spoken sarcastically, too. Nicole had to forcibly stop herself from continuing the impolite conversation, which could only get worse. They should at least try to get along.
Unwrapping her hamburger, she took a bite and found it to be exceptionally good. So was the coffee.
The sedan sped through the night on the dark and lonely road.
“John Harper said we would be staying in Coeur d’Alene.” Nicole said, breaking the silence in the car.
“Not in Coeur d’Alene. Near Coeur d’Alene.” Tuck took a swallow of his coffee.
“Near? What does that mean?”
“We’ll be staying in a cabin on the lake. Coeur d’Alene Lake.”
“Oh, there’s a lake.”
“A very beautiful lake. Northern Idaho has a lot of beautiful lakes. The whole area is beautiful.”
“Then you’ve been there before?”
“Once…a few years back.”
Nicole finished her hamburger and wadded up the wrapping. “Who owns the cabin?”
“A close friend of a high-ranking police officer. A friend of my captain, as a matter of fact. The guy who talked me into taking this job.”
His cynical tone raised Nicole’s hackles. “Sorry to be such a burden, but this certainly wasn’t my idea,” she snapped.
No, it wasn’t her idea, and Tuck felt another spurt of sympathy, which he again kept to himself. Nicole Currie might deserve sympathy, but she didn’t need to hear it from him. Before this was over she’d either be a lot tougher than she was now, or she would crumble. He hoped it would be the first.
At Tonopah, Tuck had decided to cut east across Nevada and join up with Highway 93, thereby avoiding the traffic around the Reno and Carson City area. He said nothing to Nicole about it, because he could tell that while she stared almost constantly at the road, it wasn’t because she was interested in or even aware of her surroundings. Her worried thoughts were directed toward herself, which he probably understood better than most people would have. It was almost as though they had something in common, which wasn’t true when their troubling recent experiences were so diverse. But they both had problems to deal with, and that did seem to give them a little common ground.
The term “common ground” gave Tuck pause. He glanced at his passenger. “We should probably get some sort of story put together for our background.” Absently then, keeping one eye on the road, he reached for the hamburger on the seat.
Nicole turned slightly to see him. “Such as?”
“Where we’re from, where we met, do we have any family, that sort of thing.”
“Oh. Do you think people will ask?”
“Not if I can help it, but it wouldn’t do for you to answer a question about our common past one way and me answer it another. We really are going to try to avoid people, but we should be prepared, just in case.”
“Fine,” she said listlessly. “Tell me what to say. Frankly, my own imagination isn’t functioning on high at the present.”
“Well…let’s make us both orphans. Parents dead, each of us being an only child. Um, let’s say we met back east, got married, lived in Nevada for a while and decided to try Idaho. That would explain the Nevada plates on this car.”
“Where back east?”
“Ever been in the east?”
“Only between flights when I vacationed in Europe. But I’ve been in Texas, the Abilene area.”
“That’ll work. I’ve been there, too. Forget the east, and tell people, if they’re nosy enough to ask, that we met in Abilene.”
After passing through the small town of Warm Springs, there was a long stretch of vacant road through Railroad Valley. Tuck hadn’t seen a car in a good half hour when his own began acting up.
Nicole noticed the sputtering of the engine. “What’s wrong?”
“Don’t know. Maybe the fuel line.” Scowling, Tuck pumped on the accelerator and the engine evened out. A breakdown out here wouldn’t be funny. The next town of any size was Ely, still more than a hundred miles away. He might come upon a service station before Ely, but on this road in the middle of the night there wasn’t much chance of a mechanic hanging around hoping for a customer.
Every few minutes the engine sputtered and coughed again. Nicole had started listening for it and Tuck was getting a little more tense each time it happened.
“What if it stops running out here?” Nicole said worriedly. There wasn’t another car in sight, not even a distant light signifying human habitation.
Tuck’s jaw was clenched. “Just pray it doesn’t,” he muttered. He had the feeling the damned engine was going to die any second, and he wished he had stayed on Highway 95, which had more towns and traffic than this road.
Then he squinted at the lights he saw ahead. “There’s something coming up,” he said. Since there wasn’t a town marked on his map, he figured it might be a ranch. To his surprise, it was a gas station and a small motel. The gas station was closed for the night, and he supposed so was the motel. But they each bore lights on tall poles, the name of the motel spelled out in neon.
He pulled the bucking car into the parking area of the buildings. Nicole frowned at the dark and silent service station. “I don’t think you’re going to get any help at this place.”
“Not till morning,” Tuck said. “Wait here.” Getting out, leaving the engine idling—wheezingly—he stalked to the door of the motel office.
In the car Nicole sighed and laid her head back against the seat. Things just kept getting worse. Not more than a week ago she was a reasonably happy woman with a challenging job, some good friends, and a home she liked and enjoyed. Now here she was in the middle of nowhere, in a pitch-black night, running from killers, with a man she neither knew nor liked, and with a broken-down car in the bargain.
Tuck read the small sign above a button. Ring Buzzer For Late Night Service. He looked around. The motel had about seven units and there were only three cars parked in front of three doors. He pushed on the button.
Almost at once he heard movement from inside. The office lights flashed on, then a sleepy-eyed, middle-aged man in an undershirt and a pair of dark pants with suspenders opened the door.
“I need a room,” Tuck said flatly.
“Come
