Page 40 of The Two Last Moments

I hear the rear door to the restaurant open. She’s going back inside. Any moment, she’ll realize I left. And whoever she was talking to is on their way here.

I need to be gone by then.

I walk as fast as I can back to the parking lot, careful to watch my surroundings. I’m scanning every face, every car, but there are too many. And my heart is beating too fast. Panic rises like dirty water in my veins.

Find a phone. Call Danny.

I head for the semi parking lot. I’ll have more cover there between the trailers. Kathy won’t spot me as easily.

A trucker steps down from his cab, and I think of Nina. How she was a trucker once too. This man is older, white hair sticking out from beneath a newsboy-style cap. He gives me a polite smile and a head nod.

“Excuse me, sir.” My pulse flutters at my throat. “Could I use your phone? Mine’s dead. I just need to call my ride. He’s nearby, but…he got lost.”

The man’s brow wrinkles like he doesn’t believe me. And why would he? This place isn’t that hard to find. It’s just off the freeway, and there’s not much else around.

But he digs into his pocket and pulls out his device. “You can use it here. Don’t go running off with it, now. I wouldn’t appreciate that.”

“I won’t. Thanks.” I take the phone, my hands shaking as I pull out the piece of paper Danny gave me.

Then instinct makes me look up.

The entrance to the convenience store is barely visible around the edge of the truck’s cab, and Kathy has just come out. She looks furious. Her head swivels left and right.

Looking forme.

I shove the phone back into the man’s hands. “Never mind. I need to go.”

“But…” He says something more as I walk away, but I’m hurrying around the side of the next eighteen wheeler to get out of sight. I pause there behind the back wheels, my breaths coming short and fast.

Stay calm. Think of a plan.

I’ll wait until Kathy goes in the opposite direction, and then I’ll ask that trucker to use his phone again, even if I probably seem like a crazy person. I’ll call Danny like I meant to. Or if he’s too far away, I’ll call a taxi. I’ll head into Fresno and find a busy place to wait and figure out what to do next.

It’s not much of a plan, but it’s enough. I can handle this.

Then I notice another driver leaning up against the cab of the next truck over, smoking a cigarette. His body is still and relaxed, but his eyes are narrowed.

“Hey, you need something, sweetheart? Need a ride?”

Yesis right there on the tip of my tongue. I could hide in his truck. He could get me out of here.

But he’s watching me like a coyote salivating over a meal, and I don’t want anything to do with that.

I set my shoulders. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”

The man saunters over. “If you need somethin’, I can help.”

“Idon’t.” I turn to go, but he grabs my wrist in his bony hand.

“I think that you do.”

15

My resolve lasts all of five minutes.

Then I find myself taking the next exit, pulling a U-turn, and heading back toward the travel stop.

The Charger’s engine growls as I pull into the lot. I park behind a camper, then head for the building. And there’s Lark, visible in the window of the restaurant. She’s sitting in a booth picking at a sandwich. Kathy isn’t there.

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