What Have We Done (65)

He looks ahead at the interstate like he’s taking it in. Like it’s a scenic villa in Italy or some kind of long-hauler’s pilgrimage trail.

“Does it get lonely?” she asks. Casey spent the first eighteen years of her life on the farm feeling a deep sense of loneliness. Until she found Haley, reunited after the twins had been so cruelly separated at birth. She’s learned that it’s common, twins separated at birth. Great for social scientists who do nature-versus-nurture research, but not so much for the twins themselves.

“Lonely?” He thinks about this. “Not really. I pick up hitchhikers sometimes. And we have the CB. But I’m fine on my own.”

It sounds nice. He’s nice. She contemplates getting out at the next truck stop, finding a different rig. Then she imagines Haley mocking her for going soft on this dude.

“Oh crap,” she says. She digs through her backpack.

“What is it?”

“I left my wallet at the diner. It’s got my ID.”

“Oh no.” He looks at his watch. “I can take you back.”

“No. I can get back there. Pull over at the next stop and I’ll figure it out.”

He thinks more, then acquiesces, no idea how lucky he is.

At the exit for the next truck stop, he veers off the interstate, slows to a stop in the lot. He smiles again, looks at her. “I really don’t mind taking you back.”

“No, you have a job to get to. I can handle it.”

“You be careful out there.”

She nods, then turns to open the door.

In an instant, she experiences a wave of panic as she feels an arm clenched around her neck choke-hold-style, and a cloth clamped against her face. She feels a burning sensation on her cheeks, nose, and lips, and before she can fight him off her world goes black.

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

JENNA

Back in the hotel room, Jenna sits cross-legged on the bed. Nico sits on the sofa, and Donnie shuffles on his feet, emanating nervous energy. She can’t help but flash back to Savior House, the kids sitting at the long dining room table as Mr. Brood held court.

“I spoke to Arty,” she tells them.

They say nothing.

“He has a plan.”

Both men look down, no doubt remembering the last time Artemis Templeton had a plan.

“He’s going to set up a meeting with Derek, offer him money to drop this.”

Nico raises his eyes. “He thinks that will work? Whoever is trying to kill us hired a contract killer. Maybe more than one. They went on a cruise ship, blew up a coal mine, you said they went after your family. I don’t think this is about money.”

Jenna shrugs.

Nico continues, “Derek agreed to meet?”

“Arty’s reaching out to him, but he seemed confident he could set it up.”

“Where? Somewhere public, I hope? If not, Arty ought to make sure his affairs are in order,”

Nico says.

Jenna agrees that somewhere public would be the safest course. But she also knows it won’t be a public meeting, in case Jenna has to execute the backup plan.

Donnie remains quiet, his eyes still on the matted carpet. Finally, he asks, “What if he won’t take the money?”

Jenna figures he already knows the answer. “Arty will convince him. He suggested it would take a lot of zeros.”

“But what if he doesn’t take it?” Donnie asks again.

Nico and Jenna share a knowing glance.

Jenna says, “In that case, Arty asked that all three of us come. That we try to convince him to stop this nonsense.”

Donnie stares out at nothing, and Jenna pictures a younger version of that same vacant stare on a rainy night twenty-five years ago.

Nico clears his throat. “I’d bet on Arty getting it done.”

Jenna’s burner phone pings with a text. “It’s set,” she tells them. “Tonight at seven o’clock. Say what you want about Artemis Templeton, he makes things happen.”

“Maybe that’s the damn problem,” Donnie says.

Ignoring that, Nico asks, “Where do we meet?”

“Seven o’clock … at Savior House.” She waits for the questions, the concerns, about the locale —their now-shuttered group home.

Instead, Donnie goes into the restroom. There’s the sound of the faucet. When he comes out, his face is wet, like he’s doused himself.

He moves to the door.

“Where you going, Don?” Nico asks.

Donnie doesn’t answer. He opens the door, goes outside, then closes it behind him.

Nico gives Jenna a curious look.

Jenna goes to the window, moves the curtains, and looks outside. She sees Donnie’s rental car tearing out of the lot.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

THE TWINS

Casey opens her eyes. Everything is blurry and she’s disoriented. Before she comprehends what’s going on, she feels hands around her neck. When she sees the trucker’s face, it all comes back to her like a knife to the chest. The trucker pulling over to let her out, the chloroformed rag over her nose and mouth. The rig isn’t moving. Maybe she’s only been out for a few seconds. She has no idea.

The trucker looks her deep in the eyes, squeezes her neck hard enough to show he’s serious. It’s strange how his face has changed, morphed from the aw-shucks guy-next-door into a dead-eyed killer.