remembering one of her grandmother’s favorite phrases: Why borrow what you know is already coming your way? “Oh Nana,” she whispered, instantly missing the woman who had helped raise her once her mother had died fifteen years earlier.
Her sudden anxiety attack melted away, and she slowly let out her breath. For the next fifteen minutes she tried to concentrate on the radio, talking nonsense to the cat, obsessively checking her rearview mirror every few seconds. The menacing dark truck failed to reappear.
Maybe Anna Maria was right. She was still far from a hundred percent of being herself. Then again, would she ever be the woman she was before she’d been shot?
Of course not.
No one could ever be.
Not when she knew that the man she loved, the man she had trusted above all others, had tried to kill her.
His breath came in short gasps.
His heart was thundering so loudly that the freeway noise, usually crushing, couldn’t be heard. He snapped the stolen cell phone shut and licked his lips. Though he stared straight ahead, driving by instinct, his mind was full of her, recalling, relishing the sound of her voice as she’d answered.
Hello.
Innocent.
Trusting.
One little word, and it caused so many emotions to roil deep within him. His fingers gripped the steering wheel more tightly, and he smiled. A tingle swept through his blood, causing his groin to tighten just as the sunlight broke through the clouds. He stepped on the accelerator. The truck nosed up a small rise. Through the bug-spattered windshield, he spied her car again as she switched lanes, the Camry half a mile ahead, gliding easily around another eighteen-wheeler.
His heart thumped in his chest.
Behind his sunglasses, his eyes squinted as if he could focus sharply enough to see her. His fingers stretched over the steering wheel.
Come on, baby. One glimpse…that’s all I want.
Then her car disappeared around a long, sweeping curve. But he knew she was close, could feel her. He knew where she was going, but he couldn’t let her get too far ahead, out of sight, just in case she took a detour.
No, he had to remain within view.
Without checking his mirrors, he floored the pickup and sped around an ancient Mercedes burning too much oil, black smoke pluming from the exhaust pipes.
More speed!
He was losing her!
He pushed down on the gas. His truck roared past a newer Ford Focus with heavy-metal music throbbing loud enough that he could feel the thrum of the bass through his closed windows.
Still his eyes remained straight ahead, his gaze focused on the little red Toyota with Eve at the wheel.
He’d blown it the first time at the cabin.
She’d lived.
He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
CHAPTER 4
Eve couldn’t make it all the way to New Orleans. The needle on the gas gauge was hovering near empty, while her bladder was stretched to full. With less than eighty miles to the city, she was resigned that she’d have to stop, so she pulled into a gas station/mini-mart that shared a parking lot with a coffee hut. Across a small access road was a McDonald’s where cars and trucks were stacking up at the drive-up window and vying for spots near the doors.
Eve eased her car to a pump and waited for the minivan in front of her to drive off. Finally she filled her tank, pulled around to a parking spot, took Samson out of his cage for a couple of strokes of his long fur, then offered him water from her bottle. He clung to her like crazy, rubbed the top of his head against her chin as she told him what a good boy he was. He meowed pitifully when she returned him to the crate. “Just a little longer,” she promised, leaving him in the car and wending her way through the vehicles parked in front of the market. The convenience store was doing a banner business. Inside, there were people standing in line to buy their gas, sodas, nachos, cigarettes, and beer. At the restroom she waited for nearly five minutes before it was her turn. After using the facilities and washing, she eyed her reflection in the small mirror, scowled, but didn’t bother to repair the damage. Who cared that her hair was a mess and her lipstick had faded hours earlier? She walked out of the restroom and through the crowded little store, where she grabbed a pack of M&Ms, a small container of aspirin, and a bottle of Dr. Pepper.
As she waited in line, she noticed a mirror mounted high overhead. Convex, the reflective glass gave the cashier a distorted but panoramic view of the interior of the market. In the reflection she saw several customers searching through the shelves, eyeing products, selecting their purchases, but one man was standing alone, not shopping, just looking at the entrance of the store through dark wraparound sunglasses…or…was he looking at her?
Don’t be silly, she told herself and glanced over her shoulder. She couldn’t see past the products stacked on the highest shelf and told herself she was imagining things. No one was lurking, ogling her behind the rolls of paper towels and boxes of cold cereal, for God’s sake!
No—this was all in her head. She’d been edgy ever since she’d gotten that weird phone call.
“Get over it,” she muttered to herself. Then, when the girl behind the counter peered at her oddly, Eve offered an embarrassed smile and quickly paid for her purchases and tank of unleaded.
Outside, beyond the overhang covering the gas pumps, the clouds had lifted to a high, thin haze that was rapidly burning off. The sun hung low in the sky, promising darkness within the hour, but for now it was bright enough to be bothersome, reflecting harshly against glass and metal, creating tiny rainbows on the oil swimming on the surface of puddles caught in the uneven asphalt.
Eve rotated her neck, heard it crack, then slid into the driver’s seat, where she tore open the bag of candy and unscrewed her bottle of soda. After popping a couple of M&Ms and aspirin and washing them down with the Dr. Pepper, she set the bottle into one cup holder and the open bag of candy into the other.
As she turned the key and her car started, she noticed a dark pickup parked near the coffee hut. A ripple of fear slid through her. Was it the same truck that she’d thought was following her earlier?
There are thousands of trucks like that, she reminded herself. She couldn’t make out the smudged plates from this distance, but they were definitely from Louisiana. The bed of the truck wasn’t empty. A toolbox positioned near the back window had been bolted into the truck’s bed.
Probably a construction worker or handyman or farmer…no big deal. Right?
But as she pulled out of the lot, she glanced in her rearview mirror and saw a tall man in wraparound shades slip through the glass door of the mini-mart to stand and stare at her. “Sweet Jesus,” she whispered. She told herself she was overreacting, that the guy was probably just looking across the street at the drive-in lane at McDonald’s, where a vanload of kids were yelling at the speaker box.
BEEP!!
Eve gasped and stood on her brakes.
Her
