Run, Rose, Run(39)
“Like what kind of expressions?” AnnieLee asked, feeling a slight flare of alarm.
Aaron Price slid closer to her on the couch. “Maybe we should go to dinner tonight and talk about it,” he said. “You’re a smart girl—I can tell. You know it pays to have powerful friends, don’t you?”
AnnieLee lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. Maybe she shouldn’t have been shocked, considering he’d just been talking about bribery. But she was definitely offended. He was hitting on her in the slyest, lowest sort of way; he was making it out to be a business transaction.
“What do you say? I’ll have my assistant book us a table at Etch.”
She stood up and walked to the other side of his office, just in case he’d been thinking about putting a hand on her knee. “I think you should just listen to my song,” she said. “And then you’ll be the one expressing gratitude, because it’ll be the best thing your dang station has played in months.” She gazed at him defiantly, and he stared back at her in surprise.
God, I hope he likes my song, she thought, or I’m going to look like an even bigger fool than he does right now.
Then Aaron Price blinked. “Huh,” he said, almost to himself. “Huh.” It seemed as if he was about to say more, but instead he went over to his computer and clicked on the WAV file Maya had sent him earlier.
The song’s opening chords blasted into the room, followed by AnnieLee’s fierce, plaintive voice.
Driven to insanity, driven to the edge
Driven to the point of almost no return…
AnnieLee watched as Aaron Price started drumming out the rhythm on his desk. She paced in the corner, bopping her head to the beat. She was mad, and the song seemed like a perfect accompaniment to her feelings. She remembered pointing the gun in the trucker’s face, and then shooting a hole in his window and stealing his semi. It wasn’t a bad memory at all, now that she’d gotten away with it.
Maybe she should’ve told Aaron Price that story, so he’d know who he was dealing with. She made her fingers into the shape of a gun. Pow, she thought, and imagined shooting the fern on his desk to smithereens.
Take the wheel and just believe
That you can change your life
“Damn,” Aaron Price said when the song ended.
“Well?” said AnnieLee, eyes blazing. “Are you going to play it or what?”
Aaron Price smiled at her in a totally new way. He didn’t look sleazy—he looked thrilled. “Hell yes, I’m going to play it,” he said. “Just about every hour for the next week.”
AnnieLee gave a little squeal of excitement. It sure wouldn’t be appropriate to throw her arms around his neck in thanks, but she almost wanted to. She wasn’t at all mad anymore.
Aaron Price opened the door to usher her out. “All right, then, I’m guessing this won’t be the last time I hear from you, AnnieLee Keyes.”
“It sure won’t be,” she said, and then she floated down the hall, grinning from ear to ear. When she got outside, she burst into a sprint. And she ran whooping and hollering all the way to the shady bench where Ethan Blake sat waiting for her.
Chapter
36
Walking into the motel lobby to pay her rent for the week, AnnieLee had to skirt an enormous cellophane-wrapped gift basket half blocking the door. At the front desk, Rhonda, the no-nonsense motel manager, was nearly invisible behind a Technicolor bouquet of gladiolas.
“Whoa, Greg must’ve done something really bad this time,” AnnieLee said. AnnieLee had never met Rhonda’s boyfriend, but to hear the stories, Greg seemed less like a love interest and more like an eternal thorn in Rhonda’s side.
Rhonda gave a quick snort of a laugh. “Fool drove the riding mower into the duck pond last night,” she said. “Again.” She flicked a bit of the bouquet’s decorative greenery out of her way. “But he only sends me flowers when I catch him hitting on other girls. For that tractor stupidity, he just apologized real nice and gave me a foot rub.”
“So you’ve got a secret admirer, then,” AnnieLee said as she poured herself a big cup of the motel’s coffee. It was terrible, but it was free. “Spill the beans!”
“All this is for you, girl,” Rhonda said.
“What? Really?” Bending down to peer through the cellophane, AnnieLee saw boxes of Belgian chocolates, champagne, pears wrapped in gold foil, dried Spanish cherries, tea biscuits, and glass jars of candied nuts, all nestled in creamy tissue paper and tied up with a silk bow. “This looks seriously expensive,” she said.
“No shit. Who’s it from?” Rhonda asked. “Who’s your admirer?”
Ruthanna was the only person AnnieLee knew who could spring for a present like this. “Just a friend, I’m sure,” AnnieLee said. She plucked the card from the bow at the top of the basket, expecting to see the singer’s name and a message of congratulations for getting “Driven” on the WATC playlist.
So she felt a jolt of unpleasant surprise upon seeing that the gift basket was from Mikey Shumer. So were the gladiolas, and a smaller package she hadn’t even seen right away. It contained a pair of classic Ray-Ban Aviators.
AnnieLee put on the sunglasses to disguise her unease. Mikey Shumer was sending her a very clear message: he knew where she was and how to get to her, and he wasn’t going to give up.