don’t have to pay me back.”
“I want to. How long will you be on the Dalton?”
“Three days, maybe.”
“Do you have a cell phone?”
“Of course, but there’s no service. You can leave a message.”
“Give me the number.”
He handed her a business card with his information. She tucked it into the front pocket of his flannel.
“You can go to the cabin anytime. I’ll tell Ann to run a tab.”
She nodded, avoiding his gaze. He didn’t press, because he was afraid to scare her off. Maybe she’d call him in a few days. Maybe she’d rethink his offer to stay at the cabins. She had nowhere else to go, after all.
They headed toward the front of the store together. She added a couple of travel-size toiletries to the cart, along with a simple canvas backpack. He didn’t really need any supplies, but he grabbed a few boxes of snacks. The store was busier now, at the start of the morning rush. He paid for the items in cash.
“I’ll change here,” she said, gesturing to the restrooms.
He went to wait for her near the entrance. There was an in-store restaurant with a café. He sat down at an empty booth. A mounted TV in the upper corner displayed local news. He listened to the weather report with interest. There was snow in the forecast, as usual. Then a photograph of Tala flashed across the screen.
Cam’s blood froze at the sight. Newscasters launched into a story of a missing waitress from Walt’s in Willow. The photo of Tala appeared again. It had been taken at the diner, probably by a patron. Tala was standing at the counter next to Walt.
The caption under her face read “Abigail Burgess.”
Viewers were asked to call a number for the Willow Police Department if they had any information. The segment lasted sixty seconds at the most. He blinked and it was gone, like a figment of his imagination.
Abigail. Abigail?
He tried to remember hearing her name in the diner, or over the radio. The other truckers used terms like “honey” or “cutie” for an attractive waitress. Tala was a distinctive name, and he wouldn’t have forgotten it. She must have lied to him. He was disappointed, but not particularly surprised, by the realization.
Cam pondered this latest development. There was no mention of a crime committed, by her or anyone else. She didn’t have any family in the area to report her disappearance, and she’d only been gone twenty-four hours.
And yet, her story had made the morning news.
What the hell had happened at Walt’s? He got the feeling it was something more serious than a brief sighting of her ex. She’d woken up screaming last night. She’d mentioned a dream about Walt in the dumpster. Dead.
He glanced toward the restrooms, uneasy. She was taking too long to change clothes. Either she’d ditched him to avoid saying goodbye, or she’d run into some more trouble. The first option was far more likely, and it filled him with dark emotions. He hadn’t been able to say goodbye to Jenny because she’d never woken up. He couldn’t bear to relive the moment his wife had slipped away.
He had issues with saying goodbye. Major issues.
Stomach roiling, he rose to his feet. Women who weren’t Tala breezed in and out of the restrooms. Had she walked by him while his eyes were glued to the television screen? No. She couldn’t have left the store, unless there was another way out. He spotted a garden section in the opposite corner.
Damn it.
Cam strode past the potted plants and fertilizer. Sure enough, there was an alternate exit at this end. He moved forward and shoved through the doors, searching the dark for a wolf-quick girl in a fur-lined parka.
There.
She was in the parking lot—and she wasn’t alone. A man had his hand locked around her upper arm. He appeared to be leading her away by force. She looked over her shoulder at Cam. Their eyes met for a split second. Then the man, who must be her abusive ex, jerked her forward. She stumbled and almost fell.
Cam’s vision went red. He was already on edge, filled with angry tension. The sight of her being manhandled made him completely snap.
He rushed toward them, intent on introducing himself with his fists.
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