He let her eyes catch up with her mouth before he spoke. “Her seat was strapped onto your chair back here. Do you remember doing that?” He watched her expression, body language, for any tell that she was lying. He didn’t think she was. Then again, maybe she’d honestly forgotten her crime.
“No,” she whispered. “I don’t.”
When she swayed, he guided her to sit on the mattress next to the baby. He was confused. She was confused. The only one at all satisfied was the baby now sucking on her impossibly small toes.
“Could be that was her mother’s handprint on the door,” he suggested. “I’m guessing a woman, by the size of it.”
“But ... why would a mother leave her child in my truck?”
He decided to rock the boat. “Maybe you kidnapped the mom and baby, put them in your rig to get them outof the county. Someone was trying to rescue her and shot up the rig. Mom escaped and went for help.”
She would have slid off the bed if he hadn’t grabbed her forearm.
“What? That’s completely asinine.” She stopped, looking from him to the baby, arms folded around her middle as if her stomach ached. “I didn’t kidnap any baby. I’ve never seen it before.”
“That you can recall anyway, and it’s a she. I’ve named her Tater Tot until I hear different. We’ll get her to the cops quick as we can.”
Fire sparked her ink-dark eyes. It suited her better than the dazed look.
“And why should I believe a wordyousay? Maybe you shot at my rig, tried to kill me and the mother and take the baby.”
He laughed.
“It’s not funny.”
“If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you when I climbed in and you were still half conscious, wouldn’t I? Maybe cut your throat? Strangled you?”
She blanched but didn’t flinch.Knock it off,Cullen.She’sa civilian,remember?A moment later it flashed on him that he was too. “My truck’s a half mile uphill from here. In the morning, if no help arrives, we can try to reach it, but for now, when the dirt settles, I’m gonna climb out and see if I can get a signal. I’ll try to keep a line of sight to your rig in case the shooter returns.”
Her brows crimped. “Are you some sort of cop?”
The burn of it ... after almost a year. “No,” he said finally. Best he could do.
The baby flung the other sock off. He gathered it up and slipped both back on, then stroked her head to check if she was still warm enough. “Hey, Tater Tot. Keep your socks on, huh? It’s cold in here.”And only getting colder. Ticktock.“I’m going to look for your phone, Kit. Could be yours works better than mine. Can you babysit?”
Kit gasped. “Are you serious? I don’t even own a houseplant.”
“Don’t let her roll off the bed. You can do that.” He didn’t wait for her reply. “Does your rig have a GPS built in?”
“Yes. It can be tracked from my office in case there’s trouble.”
Trouble. Right.“Any employees? Would they be checking on you?”
She sighed. “I only have one. Normally, Cliff would keep tabs on me, but this was supposed to be my last run before evacuation. He cleared out yesterday.”
Of course he did.Cullen grabbed a flashlight from a clip attached to the back of the passenger seat and beamed it around the darkened interior. The light caught some scattered pencils, a hair scrunchie, paperwork. He scanned. “Manifest says you were hauling office supplies.”
She groaned. “Great. My tombstone will read ‘Rest in peace with the paperclips.’”
He chuckled. Witty.
With a twinge in his knee, he eased to his hands and knees and beamed the searchlight into all the dark corners of the cab. Where was that phone? She kept a neat truck. No gum wrappers or loose change. Only a set of binoculars and a bound book of paper maps. He grabbed them both.
“Cullen.” She’d almost shouted it, and he realized she must have been talking to him while he searched.
“What?”
“Do you think I was transporting this baby’s mother somewhere? Like she asked me for a ride?”
