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He shook his head, but his lips curled into a barely-there smile. As if she amused him.
As soon as the waitress returned with her change and Gideon’s credit card, he said, “You ready to leave?”
“And drive away in that storm?” She stared at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she whispered. “Where are we going to go?”
“I meant leave the diner. We’re not leaving the complex yet,” he said. “Most of these truck stops have stores. Food. Snacks. Some clothing. We both need warmer coats. Boots. Cold weather stuff. And food and water for what I have planned.”
“What’s that?” He clearly had a strategy, and she wanted to know what it was. So she’d be prepared.
“We’ll talk about it in the car,” he said in a low voice, glancing around.
No one was close enough to hear. Apparently Gideon was just as cautious as she was.
A half-hour later, they walked out of the truck stop store with heavy-weight jackets. Boots. Gloves and warm socks. Hats. A case of bottled water. And a big selection of food.
“I’m not going to that high school,” she said, her voice hard. “My car, my decision.”
“No,” he said without looking at her. “We’re not. I don’t want to be stuck in a school gym, either. A bunch of nosy strangers trying to make conversation with us? Total nightmare. I have a better idea.”
They’d reached the car, and she clicked it open. He stored their purchases in the back with their bags. Then he climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door.
Alex took a deep breath. It was snowing just as hard as it had been when they’d arrived. The tracks she’d made in the snow were completely obscured. Backing carefully out of the parking spot, she turned the car toward the road. “Okay,” she said. “What’s your plan?”
