She didn’t even know the extent of Todd’s duplicity yet. A shudder ran through her and he tightened his hold, bracing as they rounded a bend. She ached to be able to trust him. There had to be one person she could count on.
And really, how egregious were his lies? If everything he’d told her was false, she’d be well rid of him as soon as possible. On the other hand, if he actually was an ex-PJ, working for a security company, hunting down a killer, could she fault him for not giving her the full truth?
Sure, they’d had sex, but he’d only known her a couple days. And before that, he’d expected to drop her at the sheriff’s office and return to his mission with her none the wiser. Once they were stuck together, maybe he hadn’t expected to encounter Pete at all.
Maybe she should justaskhim.
Her head hurt, and not just from her cold-locked jaw or her temple bouncing against the hard floor every time they hit a bump. Would she ever be able to trust her own judgment again?
Todd’s actions over the last few days had to count for something. He’d saved her, protected her, kept her alive, made her laugh, made her feel…if not loved, something closer than she’d ever had. Respected, valued, admired.
This very second he was keeping her safe, trying in vain to keep her warm and hidden, likely developing a plan for every contingency.
It probably didn’t even matter if she could learn to overlook his lies of omission. Even if they were able to turn themselves in to the police safely, they no longer had Megan to testify on their behalf—Lindsey’s gut burned at the fresh wash of betrayal—and Todd had killed Meg’s brother. If anything, the woman’s animus would now be aimed at both Lindsey and Todd. If she could find a way to send them to jail—or worse—no doubt she’d do it.
The truck bounced and turned right, slamming Lindsey’s head into the metal so hard she saw fairy lights. If she didn’t end up with a concussion, it’d be a miracle.
Finally, the road turned smooth and the truck sped up, wind slapping the tarp against the toboggans. If her sense of direction was right, the truck was heading north, but that didn’t mean they’d end up in a town. There were plenty of ranches along the way.
With a sigh, she clenched her eyes shut, somehow drifting off into a state of half-awareness, half-sleep.
She had no idea how much time had passed when they slowed, made several turns, and then jerked to a stop. The moment of truth.
The driver’s door creaked open, and then slammed shut hard enough to rock the vehicle. Then, heavy footsteps moved out of range.
Her heart thrummed against her ribs and nerves danced across her insides, making her jumpy.
After a couple of minutes, Todd slowly lifted the toboggans and half sat up to peek through the gap. “He’s gone,” he whispered. “You ready?”
She nodded.
He shoved aside the sleds and rolled out from under the tarp. In a flash, he was over the side of the truck and then turning back to her with his arms outstretched. Without stopping to think, she let him hoist her up and over until she stood mostly steady on her feet between the truck and another car, both of them parked in front of a faded red brick building on a quaint little main street.
There were people around, but the town wasn’t busy. No one seemed to notice they’d been in the back of the truck. Even if they had, they probably wouldn’t care.
The streets were dry, and there wasn’t any snow packed on the side of the road, so maybe the lower elevations hadn’t been hit with the storm. The bright sun felt amazing, but she still shivered as the wind cut through her damp jeans.
Todd’s arm slid across her waist and he steered her toward the sidewalk. If butterflies suddenly danced in her belly, it was definitely nerves, not a reaction to his touch.
Yeah, right. Now who was the liar?
The problem with September in southern Montana was that it was too quiet. Kids were back in school, so there were no families crowding the streets of the communities within striking distance of Yellowstone. Few couples, of any age, vied for lunch at the nearest restaurant.
Under ordinary circumstances, Todd wouldn’t mind the slow pace of the small town he and Lindsey had just landed in, with its old red-brick buildings and snow-capped mountain backdrop. Right now though, he’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable in a crowd. They just needed to find one.
Or a hideout. He glanced up at an old-fashioned marquee advertisingSkyscraperwith Dwayne Johnson for a two-thirty showing. The word LOFT fronted the building, vertically spanning multiple stories in huge block letters. It had to be a second-run theater, since that movie had come out months ago.
“You up for a flick?” Todd asked, his hand still pressed to the back of Lindsey’s damp jacket, reluctant to stop touching her. “I have some cash, and it’d get us off the street while we come up with a plan.” His wallet was pretty light, but he had enough money for two tickets and some snacks. His stomach growled in anticipation.
She glanced up and nodded. “Good idea. Let me get rid of these first.” She stripped off the makeshift gaiters covering her legs and shoved them into a trash can while he added the F-150’s license plate number to a note on his burner phone.
Five minutes later, after ordering food and using the restroom, they sat in the back corner of the ornate-but-aging theater with elegantly draped, faded red curtains framing its dingy screen. So far, they were the only two in attendance. They couldn’t completely let down their guard, but maybe they could relax an inch.
The twenty-something working the ticket/food counter had looked askance at their dirt-caked, bedraggled appearance, but hardly even roused himself to look them in the eye. Todd kept his injured arm turned away, counting on his dark jacket to hide the drying blood. The understandably bored—and monosyllabic—kid had returned to a game on his phone as soon as he’d handed over the food and Todd’s change.
Now, Lindsey sat to Todd’s left, resting a large bucket of popcorn on one knee and a paper dish of nachos on the other. He held a ridiculous stack of tiny napkins and a giant cup of Coke that barely fit in his hand.
Her entire body trembled and she stared, glassy-eyed, at the seat in front of her.
