Jack couldn’t help raising his eyebrows.
“What?” Carla asked, glancing down at the bag.
“Is that everything you need?”
“Mostly.”
“What else is there?”
Carla’s white teeth flashed in an expression that was half-laugh, half-snarl. “Maybe I need a vacation from Hidden Cove.”
“Can you… Can you do that with a mobster boyfriend?”
She ignored him. “Come on. Garage is this way.”
The garage was large enough to fit at least six cars. Maybe more. But only one sat in the drive; a red convertible that gleamed in the sunlight. Carla strode over to it, opened the trunk, and threw her bag inside. Jack glimpsed a license plate and a suitcase hidden beneath a rumpled raincoat but didn’t dare ask questions.
“Let’s go,” she sighed, and he felt the slightest bit guilty. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed so hard. Maybe she didn’t want to drive after her accident.
“Thanks,” said Jack, sliding into the passenger seat, admiring the cherry red interior, the soft leather beneath his fingertips. From the review mirror, a lucky rabbit’s foot dangled beside an air freshener. Everything was pristine, from the steering wheel to the carpet at his feet. “For agreeing to this.”
This was by far the nicest car he’d ever ridden in, and he was determined to enjoy it while it lasted.
“Yeah, sure,” said Carla. She slid behind the wheel, brushed her bangs from her face as she chewed her bottom lip.
“If it doesn’t work, we’ll go back to the list,” Jack promised.
“I think you just want to go for a ride,” she said, throwing her hair back and flashing her brilliant teeth.
Some of the tension drained from his shoulders.
“That’s part of it,” he said. “I’ve been trapped here for weeks.”
“Yeah, I know.” The ignition roared. They backed into the circle, then pulled forward down the long, long drive.
He wished she’d roll up the top. To give him the illusion of protection, if nothing else. Wind slashed at them, threatened to steal his hat from his head and feed it to the waiting trees in the forest. Jack squeezed it in his lap and mentally prepared for a hail of bullets.
They wound down the drive and out the front gate without incident, but he didn’t dare feel foolish. Boris’s warning still rang in his ears.
Carla cranked the radio. She drove fast, probably too fast for a neighborhood like this, tearing around corners, taking curves with enough speed that they could’ve easily spun out.
Nausea cramped in Jack’s stomach. Maybe, he realized with burgeoning terror, she hadn’t been trying to kill herself. Maybe she was just a really bad driver.
And now he was trapped with her.
“You OK?” Carla shouted over the wind and the radio.
“I think so,” Jack lied.
She laughed and jerked the steering wheel. The double yellow line disappeared beneath them. “No, you aren’t. You’ll come up with a new crisis in a few minutes.”
“What makes you say that?” he demanded, affronted.
“You’re never calm. The whole time I’ve known you!”
“It’s been two days!” Jack said, gripping the sides of the seat as Carla flew past a stop sign.
“I only needed two days to learn that you about you, sweetheart!”
