number. But they wouldn’t have. We got out of there pretty fast and this morning before we started, I made sure there was a nice mud and snow mix on the plates, obscuring the information.”
“They’ll call the police?” she said, more fact than question.
“I imagine so. First, they’ll call the boss. He or she will tell them to call the police. Then there will a quick look around to see if anything is missing or disturbed. When everything looks okay, they’ll probably calm down, and quite frankly, the cops won’t put any time into it.”
“Cameras?” she asked.
“Didn’t see any. Those are getting more sophisticated by the minute, however, so it’s possible. Nervous about seeing your photo splashed across the internet or the local news station?”
“Nervous?” She put her hands on the borrowed sweatpants. “Why, do these make me look fat?”
He laughed so hard that he almost couldn’t drive. He might not know her name but he was slowly fitting together the pieces of Stormy. And liking the image he was creating.
Which was a problem considering she was somebody else’s woman.
He turned on the radio. “I’m going to try to catch some road reports,” he said.
* * *
S HE WATCHED THE miles roll by. They’d left the Interstate behind and turned off onto a two-lane highway. In most places, it was plowed wide enough to cause no worry for cars going opposite directions. There were places where it had blown badly and had they met a car in exactly those spots, it might have been an interesting game of chicken.
That didn’t happen. In fact, they met very few cars. Fewer than ten so far and none of them had been a black Mercedes.
The lack of activity gave her plenty of time for reflection. Perhaps too much.
She’d kissed him. Couldn’t put it out of her mind.
She’d grabbed his face, pulled him close and laid one on him. What the heck did that tell her about the kind of person she was?
She was a kisser? A wanton kisser? A nondiscriminating kisser, looking for any pair of available lips?
Or was it possible that she was very discriminating and had simply found something unique and interesting and worth her time? That was certainly something to chew on.
She fought the urge to ask Cal how he felt about it. That would have been such a female thing to do—to want to talk it to death. He hadn’t resisted. Had participated quite nicely, in fact.
But hadn’t mentioned it and apparently wasn’t inclined to want to talk about it or anything else. He’d fiddled with the radio for a few minutes and settled on a talk radio station that was debating the use of drone technology in the public sector.
She could tell the roads were still slick although no new snow was falling. Once the plows and the salt trucks were out and about, it would be fine to travel. There would be nothing to slow down the Mercedes Men.
But how would they be able to trace her to Ravesville? Maybe once she got to Cal’s family home, she’d truly be safe. Her mind would heal.
She’d had the two flashes of memory. They seemed incongruent. Her in a pretty dress with a briefcase and the ability to pick a lock. Figuring out how these seemingly disjointed memories went together was difficult.
Equally challenging was sorting through the new information that she was learning. Just this morning, she’d discovered two rather interesting facts. One, when Cal had handed her the knife and told her not to hesitate, she’d known that she would do what she had to do to protect herself. She would fight. And the second thing that had become abundantly clear when she’d been hiding in the closest, sweltering in Cal’s big coat, was that she didn’t like being left behind. When Cal had ordered her to hide, her first impulse had been to tell him to think again. But she’d decided to go along.
While she’d been waiting, her heart had been beating hard. At first, she’d thought it was in fear. Then she’d realized that it was in
“They’ll call the police?” she said, more fact than question.
“I imagine so. First, they’ll call the boss. He or she will tell them to call the police. Then there will a quick look around to see if anything is missing or disturbed. When everything looks okay, they’ll probably calm down, and quite frankly, the cops won’t put any time into it.”
“Cameras?” she asked.
“Didn’t see any. Those are getting more sophisticated by the minute, however, so it’s possible. Nervous about seeing your photo splashed across the internet or the local news station?”
“Nervous?” She put her hands on the borrowed sweatpants. “Why, do these make me look fat?”
He laughed so hard that he almost couldn’t drive. He might not know her name but he was slowly fitting together the pieces of Stormy. And liking the image he was creating.
Which was a problem considering she was somebody else’s woman.
He turned on the radio. “I’m going to try to catch some road reports,” he said.
* * *
S HE WATCHED THE miles roll by. They’d left the Interstate behind and turned off onto a two-lane highway. In most places, it was plowed wide enough to cause no worry for cars going opposite directions. There were places where it had blown badly and had they met a car in exactly those spots, it might have been an interesting game of chicken.
That didn’t happen. In fact, they met very few cars. Fewer than ten so far and none of them had been a black Mercedes.
The lack of activity gave her plenty of time for reflection. Perhaps too much.
She’d kissed him. Couldn’t put it out of her mind.
She’d grabbed his face, pulled him close and laid one on him. What the heck did that tell her about the kind of person she was?
She was a kisser? A wanton kisser? A nondiscriminating kisser, looking for any pair of available lips?
Or was it possible that she was very discriminating and had simply found something unique and interesting and worth her time? That was certainly something to chew on.
She fought the urge to ask Cal how he felt about it. That would have been such a female thing to do—to want to talk it to death. He hadn’t resisted. Had participated quite nicely, in fact.
But hadn’t mentioned it and apparently wasn’t inclined to want to talk about it or anything else. He’d fiddled with the radio for a few minutes and settled on a talk radio station that was debating the use of drone technology in the public sector.
She could tell the roads were still slick although no new snow was falling. Once the plows and the salt trucks were out and about, it would be fine to travel. There would be nothing to slow down the Mercedes Men.
But how would they be able to trace her to Ravesville? Maybe once she got to Cal’s family home, she’d truly be safe. Her mind would heal.
She’d had the two flashes of memory. They seemed incongruent. Her in a pretty dress with a briefcase and the ability to pick a lock. Figuring out how these seemingly disjointed memories went together was difficult.
Equally challenging was sorting through the new information that she was learning. Just this morning, she’d discovered two rather interesting facts. One, when Cal had handed her the knife and told her not to hesitate, she’d known that she would do what she had to do to protect herself. She would fight. And the second thing that had become abundantly clear when she’d been hiding in the closest, sweltering in Cal’s big coat, was that she didn’t like being left behind. When Cal had ordered her to hide, her first impulse had been to tell him to think again. But she’d decided to go along.
While she’d been waiting, her heart had been beating hard. At first, she’d thought it was in fear. Then she’d realized that it was in
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