Page 62 of Hard Rain

Whip laughed. Four days of dead ends felt a little less irritating when Whip was laughing.

“That’s your defense?” Whip murmured.

“It worked.”

“Boone threatened paperwork.”

“Boone threatens paperwork when the coffee pot is empty.”

That earned another laugh. The sound filled the SUV like it belonged there.

The radio crackled.

Static hissed through the speaker before fading again.

Then Grady’s voice.

“Repair shop is another five minutes.”

“Copy,” Whip answered. His hands rested loose on the steering wheel, blue eyes fixed on the highway ahead. Nothing about him looked tense, but Axel knew better. Whip remembered things normal people forgot.

Axel looked out the window.

Miles of wet highway stretched ahead of them. The rain had finally quit, but every dirt road branching off the highway looked like another place Cutter could disappear.

Somewhere out there, Cutter was still moving.

Four damn days.

Warrants.

Interviews.

Tips.

Witnesses.

The same damn truck. At this point, Axel was starting to wonder if the thing had its own zip code.

“Think he’s there?” Axel asked.

“The repair shop? No.”

“Good.”

Whip frowned.

“Good?”

“Means I won’t be disappointed when we kick the door in.”

A weathered sign appeared beside the road.

JONES’ ENGINE REPAIR.

Axel grunted. “This one definitely has drugs.”

“At Daniel’s?” Whip shook his head. “He’s a model citizen.”