Page 19 of Laura's Truth

Behind her, cars and trucks drove by, the engines and tires a steady drone in her ears as she crouched low near a tree trunk. To her surprise, he was still there on the shoulder. Sunlight fractured by the high pine branches dotted the ground.

Her hand on her gun, she decided to stop playing this game his way. The smart move would be to remember her official position. She could disable Garner, contact the base, and haul him in. She had the name of his target and with the right help she could connect the dots and take legal action—if the evidence held up—against this Hackett person.

She’d unraveled cases with less to go on. Regardless, Garner had proven himself a loose cannon and she couldn’t leave him to—

“Damn.”

Stunned, she watched from the shelter of the trees as he rolled slowly forward and backward on the shoulder. What the hell was this? The man was insane. No other explanation fit. He’d been roaming the world as a mercenary for too long and the experience had eroded his common sense.

Hackett was likely some boogie monster from Garner’s warped psyche. Maybe she’d just forgotten the name as it related to that case. Except only two days ago, she’d studied that file and knew it wasn’t in there.

Garner continued to maneuver the car along the narrow strip of pavement. Other cars on the interstate moved over, intelligently giving him more room. It was a wonder they didn’t already have a state trooper out here to check his sobriety. Maybe that was the point, but if so, she didn’t see how getting busted for DUI did them any good. Suddenly, the car surged forward and he drove it straight into the ditch. Lovely.

As steam rolled from under the hood, he hopped out of the driver’s seat and raced to her position. A bullet, maybe two, and this weird adventure would be over.

“Don’t shoot,” he called. “You’ll wreck the plan.” He slid to a stop beside her.

“You don’t have a plan.”

He grunted. “Your field skills are rusty.”

“That may be true, but at least I’m sane.”

“Low blow, Talbot.”

Low or not, it felt like the truth to her. “What are you trying to prove, Garner?”

“Only trying to give us breathing space.” He stood up and extended a hand to pull her up beside him. “Can you walk on that?”

“Of course.” How had he even noticed?

“All right.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Say the word when you can’t.”

He guided her through the trees, up the slope and across the overpass. “We’ll find a ride there,” he said, pointing to a busy truck stop.

“Fine,” she said through clenched teeth. Her ankle burned and she could feel it swelling, but it wasn’t anything worth stopping for. She’d deal with it when they got wherever he thought they were going.

***

Drew admired her grit. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t stop himself. She had to be hurting, but she refused to favor the ankle. The only change in her demeanor was the hard line of her jaw…and that might well be more about her temper than any amount of pain.

He’d pushed her hard and knew that quick mind of hers was sorting out solutions that kept him away from Charleston. Not that her solutions would work. This was his golden opportunity to reveal Hackett as the traitor and get his life back. He’d never told as big a lie as when he’d told her his life didn’t matter to him anymore. He’d followed Hackett’s contact into Spoleto and he intended to document the treason and reclaim his place as one of the good guys.

Bonus if he could prevent data from getting into the wrong hands. That was a longshot, but Hackett had done too much damage in recent years not to try.

They reached the truck stop without incident and he held open the door for her. “So far so good.”

“Sure.”

He followed her away from the convenience store and into the small dining area serviced by two fast food companies. She chose a small corner booth and took the bench against the wall. He couldn’t ask her to move and didn’t think sitting beside her would go over well. Sliding into the bench across from her, he figured they had every approach covered. He couldn’t be sure—had to hope—she’d warn him if someone came up behind him. “Want some ice for the ankle?”

“Not now.”

“A drink?”

She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “How about a phone?” Her hands fisted, then went flat on the tabletop. “An explanation would be fabulous. We’re sitting ducks.”

“We passed a working payphone by the restrooms,” he replied, taking things in order. “Clearly we both have a common enemy. From here, we can see who might be coming at us while we plan how to get back to Charleston. I will finish what I started despite today’s setback.”