“You have to trust me on this, Harper,” he said tightly. “Even if you successfully roll in and save half a dozen girls, we both know there are more out there. If Knox knows we’re on to them, he’ll move them, then the information I get out of Creeper over there will be worthless.”
He had a point. We were working with limited time. When Creeper and the girl didn’t show back up, his boss—Knox or whoever else—would be on high alert.
“Okay. I’ll wait for you. I’m not taking her back to our room, though. Who knows what her mental state is. I can’t have her knowing where we’re staying in case she changes her mind and decides she wants to go back to Creeper and his crew.”
He gave me a dark look. “I suspect Creeper won’t be around to go back to, but you’re right. You still got the credit card you used a few days ago?”
I ignored the statement about Creeper. “Yeah. In my bag.” It felt like my trip to the Walmart in Hot Springs had been a few weeks ago rather than yesterday.
“Text me when you figure out where you’re goin’ tonight. But don’t send the address in a text or voicemail. Wait until I call.”
In case things went south.
My heart began to race. We’d done questionable things together, but this was by far the most dangerous.
He held my gaze. “You good?”
I nodded. “You?”
He smiled, an honest-to-God smile that lit up his entire face. “Never been better.” He leaned over and kissed me, slow and soulful. When he pulled back, he said, “Don’t leave with the girl until you see me sitting in Creeper’s driver’s seat.”
I nodded, swallowing hard to steady myself.
He pressed the keys into my palm. “Time to get some answers.” Then he opened the driver’s door, climbed out, and walked around the front of the building.
I suspected his plan was to walk around the other side of the store and use the shadows to hide him as he crossed to the back of the parking lot, then sneak up on the driver from behind. Was he feeling up to it? Would his concussion throw him off? I had to trust he knew what he was doing … and hope to hell I could uphold my end of the bargain.
The girl still hadn’t gotten out of the car, but the guy remained in the front seat, his phone to his ear.
Great. Was he alerting someone that the girl had taken too long inside and run out of the store? What excuse had she given him? Had she told him the truth?
I wasn’t worried about myself. I was worried about the girl. Trafficked young people were trained to avoid questions and stay within sight of their handler. Even if he hadn’t seen me, he could have realized she was talking to someone.
What if she hadn’t told him I’d approached her, and he thought it was the other way around?
Stewing about it wasn’t going to do me any good. And neither would sitting in the passenger seat of this car.
I considered moving the car closer to the trucks, but I still didn’t know where Creeper planned to have her work. There were three rows of trucks, and she could be going to any one of them. Besides, I wanted to see what he did when she got out of the car.
I didn’t have to wait long. Less than ten seconds later, the back door opened. She climbed out slowly, then shut it behind her.
The guy got out and stepped up beside her, speaking to her aggressively based on the hate on his face.
Her entire body trembled as she nodded.
He grabbed her arm and dragged her closer until their faces were inches apart, his mouth moving, still threatening or berating her. Then he gave her a vicious shove. She stumbled back, nearly falling, but caught herself and took off toward the row of trucks closest to his car.
He stayed planted in front of the car, watching until she passed the front of the truck on the end before he got back in.
If I headed that direction, he’d see me, which meant I needed to move my car. But would he notice? Or, more to the point—would he see me as a threat? An innocent-looking blond woman alone in a car. He probably figured I wasn’t likely to notice anything. Still, he might get twitchy if I drove in that direction seconds after she walked that way.
But if I went inside the store before I left, he probably wouldn’t think twice about it. If he was paying attention to me at all.
I got out of the car and walked to the front of the store, putting myself out of his line of sight.
The trucks were parked at an angle away from the building, so I couldn’t see the girl, but the driver’s side window on the first truck rolled down and the trucker leaned out as if he was talking to someone. Seconds later, the window went up and his head disappeared. When I didn’t see the door open, I realized he must have sent her away.
Thank God. Because if I saw her get into a truck cab, the driver was going to wish he’d never met me.
