Page 21 of Laura's Truth
He ordered the fries, a couple of drinks, and asked for a bag of ice for Laura. Lingering by the self-serve drink fountain, he kept an eye out for whoever had put her on edge.
Not an easy task. She was too good to telegraph her nerves, much less her interest in a specific person. The truck stop serviced a steady flow of customers at the gas pumps lined up out front. When they’d walked up, he’d spotted the big semis ranged out to the west side of the building. Easier to access the diesel pumps and longer parking spaces.
He thought of that as a potential escape route rather than the source of an immediate threat. No, his money was on the guy in dark glasses at one of the center gas pumps. The white compact sedan looked like a match for the last car that had followed them and there was something about the way he moved. Alert. Predatory. Not unlike the men who’d found them at the airport.
Drew would’ve bet good money the man’s eyes weren’t on the pump readout but scouting every detail behind those dark lenses. On cue, the man deliberately turned back to the road. Full-circle recon, looking for the woman seated near the window.
It wasn’t a good sign, but Drew didn’t see any reason to panic.
His curiosity got the better of him. Who was this team apparently tethered to her every move? Hackett wasn’t behaving as expected. If he suspected Drew was alive and hunting him, Hackett should’ve told his team to take out Drew first and the peripheral players like Laura and possibly Carpenter afterward. And only if necessary. Anger flared deep in Drew’s gut. Getting tangled with someone like Laura wasn’t on his schedule, but if he helped her maybe the good deed would offset one or two of the lousy things he’d done to survive.
He wasn’t into fate, wasn’t sure what he believed in anymore, but he knew helping her was the right thing to do. It was more than a little surprising that he still had enough of a good conscience to come to that conclusion. When the order was ready, he carried the tray to Laura, but her gaze was on the man outside. “Pump five, right?”
She dipped her chin once in the affirmative, stabbing a straw through the lid of one of the drink cups. “You testing another theory?”
“Nah. I think if we play this right, we just found a new ride back to Charleston.”
She arched one eyebrow, although in doubt or challenge, he didn’t know. “This should be interesting.”
“We need information,” he added. “Who better than the source?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll turn you in.” That had both her eyebrows rising high enough to disappear under the fringe of her tawny bangs. “To that guy. Whoever Hackett set on us won’t expect that.”
“How many ways can that go wrong? Let me count…”
“Trust me.” He laid his hand over hers. Sure, what he had in mind could backfire, but he needed to know if they were only up against Hackett, or if there was another player with a long reach, willing to haunt her every step from Bragg to the side of the interstate. Drew couldn’t afford any more surprises. “Think of it as an improv street performance. That’s de rigueur during Spoleto.”
“Maybe on Charleston streets,” she murmured. She didn’t look willing or convinced, but he had to act now and pray she cooperated. It wasn’t like he couldn’t adapt if she balked. His careful plans to trap Hackett were already so far off the rails with Laura’s interference that another diversion couldn’t make matters much worse.
“Come on,” he said, pulling her to her feet. Hoping she noticed he guarded her weak side, he put himself on her right, gripping her elbow with a little more force than necessary as he led her out the side door. “Feel free to act irritated.”
“That won’t be a problem,” she snapped.
They came around the front of the truck stop and he picked up the pace, wanting to have this public conversation as privately as possible.
“About time you got here,” he barked at the man tucking the receipt into his wallet. “Let’s go.”
He pushed Laura toward the back door of the white sedan.
Dark Glasses hesitated, his hand on the key fob. “Who are you?”
“Seriously?” Drew gave Laura a little shake. “You aren’t our ride? Sorry. My mistake. Every other car in this backward state is white.” He shifted half a step back from the car and reached into his pocket for the cell phone that wasn’t there. “Christ. They couldn’t give me a name or a plate…” He continued griping, right there between pumps, while the man watched.
“I need to sit down,” Laura said, giving a good impression of a woman looking for a bolt hole. “The ankle really hurts.”
“Deal with it,” he snapped.
“Please?” Laura’s shoulders slumped and she favored her foot for the first time, apparently utterly defeated.
Perfect. “No.” Drew would have pumped a fist in victory if it wouldn’t have ruined the act. “It’s what you get for trying to run.”
“She put your car in the ditch?” The other man pushed his dark sunglasses up to his hair, eyeing them with a new respect.
Ah, so they did have the right man. “What do you know about it?”
“Enough.” Dark Glasses tipped his head to the door. “Get in.”