Run Rose Run(91)

This was exactly the information that AnnieLee was looking for. “I’m not a lot lizard, or commercial company, or whatever the heck you want to call it,” she said. “I’m just asking for a ride.” She gestured to the horizon, where it was just beginning to go a paler gray. “You’re supposed to be driving pretty soon, I bet. If you let me ride along, I’ll buy you all the Egg McMuffins you can eat and the biggest coffee they got.”

The man turned away and stared out his windshield. Out on the highway, only a few sets of headlights stabbed through the predawn dark. AnnieLee couldn’t hear the man sigh, but she could see him do it, the way his shoulders lifted up and then fell back down.

“Fine,” he said, and she was already up on the step when the passenger door swung open.

“Thank you so much,” AnnieLee said, climbing in. “My name’s Katie.”

He told her that his name was Foster Barnes, and he was headed to Oklahoma City. Gruff and quiet at first, he warmed up after she bought him the promised breakfast at a McDonald’s thirty miles down the highway. And once Foster got a few ounces of coffee in his belly, AnnieLee barely had to say a word; she just listened to him talk about his job, about fishing with his wife, and about the boat they were building in his garage whenever he wasn’t on the road. After a solid hour of monologue, Foster turned to AnnieLee. “Well, I’ve sure talked a lot,” he said. “What’s your story?”

“I don’t have one, really,” AnnieLee said lightly, shoving her hands into the pocket of her pink VEGAS, BABY sweatshirt. “I’m just a girl without a car.”

“Huh,” Foster said after a moment. “Well, I hope you’re being real careful out there.”

“Oh, I am,” AnnieLee said. Her fingers found the can of pepper spray she’d bought back in the Vegas shop. Small and hot pink, it looked just like a tube of lipstick.

Foster looked over at her, his expression serious. “I mean it, Katie!” Then he said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to speak sharply like that. It’s just that a lot of people aren’t as nice as you want ’em to be.”

No shit, AnnieLee thought. You want a list?

But she pulled her hands out of the pocket of her hoodie. “You seem nice, though,” she said, and she could see the blush that crept up Foster’s neck to his cheeks. She’d been right—he was one of the good ones.

“You seem pretty nice, too,” he managed.

AnnieLee thanked him, though she wasn’t nice at all. She’d kept too many secrets and abandoned too many people, and that wasn’t even the worst of it.

“You got someone waiting for you on the other end?” Foster asked.

“I sure do,” AnnieLee said. “All I got to do is find him.”

And when I do, she thought, I’m going to kill him.

She didn’t think Foster would want to hear about that.

They parted ways in Oklahoma City, a few miles away from the electronics distribution center that was Foster’s final destination. Right before she hopped out of the cab, he held out a fifty-dollar bill. AnnieLee said, “Oh, no, I couldn’t,” but Foster Barnes shook it at her.

“If it means you can take a cab instead of one ride from a stranger,” he said, “then that’s all I ask.” When still she hesitated, he said, “Consider it a favor to Foster Barnes.”

She took the money and then she reached for his hand. “Thank you,” she said, squeezing it.

“Best of luck,” he said. “Go with God.”

I’d sure like to, thought AnnieLee. But it’s the devil’s help I need.





Chapter

82


Ethan felt the Ram’s right rear tire go flat on the far side of Flagstaff. After pulling in at the next gas station to change it, he discovered that the spare, which should’ve been stored underneath the truck bed, was missing. He kicked the flat in anger. He hadn’t even made it four hours down the road.

The gas station didn’t have a repair shop, so Ethan got back into the cab and drove slowly back toward the city, hazards flashing, to the nearest Pep Boys, where he paced the lobby while a guy named Bobby worked on the Ram. He bought a bag of Lay’s from the vending machine, ate them, and then bought two more bags for the road. Potato chips—AnnieLee’s favorite food and probably her primary source of caloric intake.

Doubt crept into his head during the delay. What if his hunch was utterly wrong? What if she was still somewhere in Las Vegas?

He reached into his pocket and pulled out her wallet and her cell. The phone was locked, and her wallet contained nothing but a handful of prepaid credit cards, seventy dollars in cash, and a few receipts from Nashville coffee shops. There was nothing with her signature on it. There wasn’t a single photo. He couldn’t even find a driver’s license. It was like holding the wallet of a ghost.

Ethan walked over to the lobby window and watched the passing cars slow down at the stoplight. If there was one thing he knew about AnnieLee, it was that she didn’t back down from a fight. So if she’d run from the man who surprised her in her hotel room, that didn’t mean the fight was over. It was more likely that she was circling back for the knockout punch.

Ethan pressed his forehead against the cool glass. The man in the Aquitaine had come from the part of AnnieLee’s life that she couldn’t bear to talk about—he was sure of it—and whatever terrible secret she insisted on keeping was tied directly to him.