Page 17 of Every Waking Moment


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“Yes.”

“And when did you leave him?”

Emma couldn’t believe she was divulging so much. But talking seemed the quickest way to ease the sudden tension that had sprung up between them. “Two days ago.”

There was another pause. Thinking the conversation had come to an end, she reached over to turn up the music. But Preston caught her hand. “Are you on the run, Emma?”

It was the first time he’d used her new name. Called her by any name…. Conscious of the smooth baritone of his voice and his strong, warm fingers clasping her wrist, Emma drew a deep breath. “What do you think?”

“I think a woman doesn’t plead with a complete stranger to take her and her son across the country unless she has no other choice.”

Emma didn’t respond. What could she say? He was right.

“Do you suppose he’s following you?” he asked.

She knew Manuel would try. But she didn’t want to spook Preston any more than she already had. “I hope not.”

He turned her arm over and ran his thumb very lightly across the raw, red burn. “A man doesn’t give up a woman like you, or a son like Max, unless he has to.”

Emma wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or to himself, but for her own peace of mind, she wanted to answer. “He has to,” she said simply. “I’ll do absolutely anything to make sure we never go back.”

CHAPTER FIVE

MANUEL STOOD at the window of his Sacramento hotel, gazing down at the busy street below. Where was she? If he didn’t catch Vanessa soon, he might never find her.

Contemplating life without her made it difficult to breathe. He couldn’t believe she’d gotten away from him; he still hadn’t completely dealt with the shock of it. But he told himself he wouldn’t have to. He’d eventually figure out what she had planned, where she was going. He wouldn’t allow her to humiliate him in front of his whole family.

I told you she couldn’t be trusted. I told you to quit thinking with your dick, his mother had said. You should’ve taken Dominick and moved on years ago.

His brothers had clucked their tongues and acted smug, knowing full well that their own wives would never have the courage to defy them. She doesn’t know her place, José had said, the comment an obvious suggestion that Manuel should teach her.

It was high time he did, Manuel thought. Once he found Vanessa, he’d give her a lesson she’d never forget. She wouldn’t even be able to brush her teeth without permission. He’d prove to his family that he could handle her, that he could handle any woman.

But first he had to find her, and reporting the car stolen had netted him only one lead. He knew Vanessa had been pulled over while traveling north on Highway 5. That piece of information had led him to Sacramento, but he didn’t know where to go from here.

Pinching his neck, he turned to the phone. He’d already contacted Vanessa’s family and all her old friends. They claimed not to have heard from her and sounded so genuinely surprised by his call that he believed them. He probably shouldn’t have wasted the time. After what had happened before, the odds weren’t good she’d go back to them again.

Should he call the police and report that Vanessa had kidnapped their son? That she’d been kidnapped herself? He wanted to—but he couldn’t. There was always the chance that Vanessa had learned more about his business than he realized. If she aroused suspicion and the police launched an investigation, it would put his whole family in jeopardy. His mother said there was no need to invite trouble, to forget about Vanessa.

But that was easy for his mother to say. She’d never liked Vanessa, wanted to be rid of her. She didn’t understand that he’d never met anyone who could arouse him the way Vanessa could.

Maybe he should fly to Arizona, just in case she decided to break her silence long enough to—

The telephone rang.

Crossing the floor in four strides, he snatched up the receiver. “Hello?”

“It’s Richard. I’ve got news.”

Manuel’s heart began to pound. “You’ve found her?”

“No. But the police called. They’ve located the car.”

“Where?”

“Fallon, Nevada.”

“When?”

“This morning.”

“Was it abandoned or something?”

“They found it in the parking lot of a Wal-Mart. They waited for the driver to come out, but no one ever showed.”

“Damn it!” he said, and kicked the desk chair across the room.

Richard remained silent.

Manuel rubbed his face, grappling for control. Don’t let the panic win. Calm down. Think. Nevada…

Quickly, he spread out the map he’d purchased and searched the state to the east of California. Fallon…Fallon…

Finally he pinpointed the town. It was on Highway 50, not far from the California-Nevada border. If Vanessa didn’t have a car anymore, she was probably still there. Or somewhere close.

He felt a powerful surge of hope. Now the search was narrowing.

“Manuel, are you there?” Richard asked.

“Call Hector and everyone else. Tell them to get their asses to Fallon.”

“Don’t you want to go there yourself?”

“I’m on my way. But Fallon’s not very big. If she’s there, it shouldn’t be hard to find her. What we have to do is set up an outside perimeter. How far could she have traveled from Fallon if she left around the time the cops found her car? We’ll mark that on a map. Then some of us will stay in Fallon and the rest will fly to the outer line of that perimeter and slowly move in toward the center.”

“Sounds smart,” Richard said.

It was smart. Finding that car was the lucky break he’d been waiting for.

AT EUREKA, Preston took over the driving. The change woke Max, who wasn’t too happy about having to get back in the van after their brief stop. But Preston was glad to trade seats with Emma. The nap had revived him, and he felt more comfortable behind the wheel. Soon they’d reach Ely, then Wendover. Beyond Wendover, they’d have a final two-hour stretch across the salt flats, then they’d arrive in Salt Lake City.

“When can we eat?” Max asked.

Preston could see Emma fighting sleep. At the sound of her son’s voice, she jerked her drooping eyelids open and looked at Preston. “Do you think we could get some dinner in Ely?”

He nodded, wanting to tell her she could go ahead and relax. A normal person, a person with any compassion, would do that. But Max was wide-awake and talkative, and Preston didn’t want to be left alone with him. The memories crowded too close.

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