“Better eat what you can. Who knows where we’ll be at lunchtime.”
It was obvious Hank didn’t intend to waste time on small talk. He attacked the meal as if afraid it might be his last. Colette ate as much as she could, then shoved her plate away and instead focused on her coffee.
There were so many questions she wanted to ask him, not only about her past, but about his own, aswell. She’d placed her life and that of her daughter’s in his hands, yet knew almost nothing about him.
“Are your parents alive, Hank?”
He looked up from his plate in surprise at the unexpected question. “My mother passed away when I was twenty-two and I don’t know about my father. I never knew him. He divorced my mother when she was pregnant and she never heard from him again. Why?”
“Just curious. I suddenly realize I know nothing about you.”
His eyes gazed at her darkly. “You don’t need to know anything about me other than I intend to get you to San Bernardino alive.” He focused back on his breakfast.
Colette swallowed a sigh and looked at the television bolted into the wall over the counter where a talk show host was interviewing runaway teens.
If only I’d stayed at the ranch. If only I hadn’t wanted to see life in a big city,she thought. However, all the if-only’s in the world couldn’t change her position now.
She sat up straighter in the booth as the television displayed a breaking news story and a live picture of the Sleepy-Time Motel appeared. “Hank…look.”
“Early this morning police were called to the scene of what they thought would be a bloody murder when gunshots were reported at this motel.” The woman reporter paused to take a breath. “The desk clerk confirmed that the room had been rented by a single white male. However, when police entered, they found no body, no blood, only broken windows and dozens of bullet holes in both beds.”
“Come on. We need to get back on the road,” Hank said, his voice cutting through the horror that built in Colette.
Minutes later they were back in the car, eating up miles at the speed limit rate. “Hank…that was our room, wasn’t it?” Colette finally said.
“I imagine it was,” he agreed.
“But how…how did they find us? How did they know it was our room?”
“I don’t know, Colette. All I do know is that it’s important we keep moving. We won’t stop anywhere tonight. We’ll drive until we reach San Bernardino.”
Colette wrapped her arms around herself and stared out at the blur of scenery. Had they slept later, they would all three be dead, shot while they slept in their beds. She shivered, a hard knot of anger growing in her stomach.
What kind of a monster was Cameron Collier? What lengths would he reach to keep her quiet? And how long could her and Hank’s luck hold out?
As the miles passed, the anger ebbed, the horror of what might have happened passed. The motion of the car, along with the big breakfast lulled Colette. She fought against sleep, then with a sigh leaned her head against the window and gave in, allowing slumber and a world of dreams to overtake her.
* * *
HANK RELAXEDthe moment he knew she was asleep, knowing there would be no more probing questions about his past, no sharing of little details that ultimately encouraged intimacy. He’d made that mistake before and in the process had unconsciously encouragedher to expect things he couldn’t give, anticipate a future he’d never share.
The tires sang against the hot pavement, singing his song of freedom. Once he got Colette to California, this particular job would be done. Maybe it was time he took a vacation. He’d been pushing himself hard for the past five years, ever since Rebecca’s death.
Rebecca. He frowned, surprised to discover thoughts of her brought no sharp pain, no overwhelming rage, only a hollow ache of bittersweet loss.
He tried to conjure up a mental picture of her. Brown hair shot through with strands of gold. Hazel eyes that changed hues depending on what colors she wore. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Ire swept through him as he realized it wasn’t Rebecca whose image unfolded in his mind, but rather Colette’s.
He shot a sideways glance at her. Although she was still asleep, it was not a restful slumber. Her forehead was wrinkled and she winced, as if suffering an unpleasant dream.
It was easy to imagine the nightmares that haunted her. She was not in an enviable position. Testifying against a man like Collier was probably the most dangerous thing she’d ever do in her life. Unfortunately, at this point in time, not testifying was just as dangerous. The moment Collier learned that she’d heard the incriminating conversation between him and his hit man, Colette’s head had gained a bounty.
Hopefully he could keep her safe until the trial. The prosecution would keep her safe during the trial and after that…after that she wasn’t his concern. Hefrowned, surprised at the bitter taste in his mouth this thought produced.
He thought of her hope in finding the baby’s father…the idea that somehow the father was a prince among men who’d keep her and the child safe, protect them and love them forever. She carried the dreams of an innocence he’d long ago lost. Eventually those dreams of hers would shatter beneath the weight of cold reality, but he wouldn’t be around to watch it happen.
Looking in his rearview mirror, he tensed as he spotted a patrol car gaining on him. He gazed down at his speedometer and relaxed somewhat. He wasn’t speeding so there should be no problem. Still as the patrol car continued to gain and the red light on the top began to spin, a bad feeling swept over Hank. Maybe he had been speeding a little. He hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. Just what he needed, a damned ticket.
“Colette, wake up,” he said as he slowed and looked for a place to pull over onto the shoulder of the highway.
