Page 60 of Survive the Night

Charlie told him to watchShadow of a Doubt, which he assumedwas another code. The main character’s name was Charlie, for God’s sake. And sincethatCharlie had figured out her uncle was a killer, Robbie took it to mean thathisCharlie learned the same thing about the man she was riding with.

“Please believe me,” he says. “This guy she’s with, she doesn’t know him. And I think she’s afraid of him. I think she could be in real danger. Could you please just send a cop over there to see if she’s okay?”

“What’s your girlfriend’s name?” the dispatcher says, her voice softening again.

“Charlie.”

“Charlie?”

“Yes,” Robbie says. “It’s a long story.”

“Sir, this whole call has been a long story.” The dispatcher sighs. “I’ll try to send an officer there to check things out.”

Robbie hangs up without thanking her, a bit of rudeness that he assumes can be excused, considering the circumstances. Besides, she merely said she’dtryto send a cop to the diner, which means it might not happen soon. Or at all. And Charlie could be in danger right now.

He gets dressed, throwing on a T-shirt, socks, and shoes, opting not to switch out his sweatpants for jeans. On his way out the door, he grabs his coat, his wallet, and his cars keys.

He needs to do more than stay here, pacing back and forth, back and forth, hoping Charlie will call him again.

He needs to act.

And with a lot of miles between the two of them, there’s no time to waste.

INT. DINER—NIGHT

The jukebox is still playing when they return indoors, although Don McLean’s no longer saying bye, bye to Miss American Pie and the Beatles are instead saying hey to Jude. At Josh’s overly polite insistence, Charlie enters first, marching inside feeling both defeated and frightened.

That didn’t go at all like she planned. Now she has no idea what to do next. The only other option, short of running out of the diner and hoping Josh doesn’t catch up to her, is to tell Marge.

Which isn’t much of an option at all.

Marge, despite a formidable combo of tip-garnering sass and grandmotherly concern, is no match for Josh. He’d hurt her, if he needed to. And then he’d hurt Charlie. And then it would be over.

As for the cook, Charlie hasn’t even seen him. Unless he’s a former professional wrestler, she doubts he’s going to be much help.

She returns to the table because, for now, it’s all she can do. She’ll tuck herself into the booth, pretend to not be terrified out of her mind, and try to come up with a new plan. Meanwhile, she’llcontinue to hope that Robbie got the hint and called the police and that in five minutes this place will be swarming with cops.

Outside, the pay phone begins to ring. Charlie hears it, sounding tinny through the window’s glass. Josh hears it, too, and gives her a questioning look.

“You expecting a call?”

The phone rings a second time.

“No,” Charlie says.

Third ring.

“You sure?” Josh says. “Maybe you should go answer it.”

Fourth ring.

Charlie stares at it, knowing it’s Robbie using *69 to call her back. She’s certain because it’s exactly what she would do if their roles were reversed.

Fifth ring.

Josh starts to slide out of the booth. “Fine. I guess I’ll do it.”

“No,” Charlie says, reaching across the table to grab Josh’s forearm. It’s thick, the muscles taut. She assumes the rest of him is the same way. Strong. Stronger than her. She lets go, her hand slithering back across the table and into her lap.

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