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“No, it’s totally okay,” Beckett said, frowning. “I’d happily get you out of a conversation with a bully any time. Are you sure that’s it?” He glanced from me to the spa farther down. “Why were you going to that place anyway?”
I shrugged, hating that I was lying to him, knowing I’d be betraying the other guys I cared about if I didn’t. At least these lies couldn’t hurt him. “I heard good things about it from someone in one of my classes. And it was a pretty enjoyable experience up until the blast from the past part.”
Beckett studied me for a moment longer as if he wasn’t totally convinced by my story. The determined heat in his eyes, all protective fury, sent a tingle down my spine. If someonehadhurt me, I suddenly had no doubt at all that they’d have met a horrible fate at his hands.
“Let me give you a drive wherever you’re going next anyway,” he said after a moment, relaxing just a little. “Now that I’m here and all.”
That seemed only fair. And I didn’t really want to hang around waiting for an Uber. I’d taken one here so there was no chance of my license plate giving me away. Who knew how the people we were up against might be monitoring me?
“Thank you so much,” I said, getting into the car. “I’m just going back to campus. I’m supposed to be meeting with the other guys to grab lunch.”
Beckett chuckled. “Maybe I’ll join in for that too.”
Not if the guys had anything to say about it, since we were actually meeting to go over what we’d learned. I rested my hand on my phone in my pocket, thinking of the video I’d managed to take.
“That would be nice,” I said, figuring we’d deal with the rest when we got there. Wecouldalways get lunch together and then discuss the rest afterward when Beckett left.
He glanced over at me as he stopped at a red light, that intensity coming back into his eyes.
“I want you to know if you’re ever inanykind of trouble, you can always call me,” he said. “All right, Maddie? It’ll never be a problem. I’d want to have your back.”
He spoke so emphatically my throat tightened. If he’d had any idea the dangerous situations I’d already gotten into…
But he didn’t. He was just being his caring, devoted self, and I was a lying liar who lied.
“I know,” I said quietly. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
Logan
Slade, Dexter, and I sauntered into the front office for Roadway Express Trucking as if we had total confidence about our visit. As if they should be the ones catering to us. A plan like this worked better if we gave off the right vibe to begin with, and right now we were playing newly successful entrepreneurs and potential clients.
Most of the men we’d seen around the place when we’d scoped it out from more of a distance had worn jeans and casual tees, but the middle-aged guy behind the front desk had gone for a polo shirt and khakis. Trying to look a little more professional than the employees doing the grunt work, I guessed. He looked us over with an air that suggested he was not impressed. “Can I help you?”
I stopped in front of the counter and glanced around as if assessing the place. The main truck bay was off to the side of the office, accessible through the big garage doors out front and the door set in the wall there. We could have strolled right into that section from outside, but I knew the workers would have been escorting us right back out in a matter of seconds.
“My colleagues and I have recently gotten a much higher demand for a product we invented,” I said. “We’ve got the manufacturing side covered, but we need help transporting it to distribution centers around the country. We’re checking out trucking companies in the area to decide which one to go with. Would it be a problem if we took a quick look around at your vehicles and asked some questions?”
The man straightened up at the prospect of new business, though he still looked a bit wary. “We can accommodate you.” He got up and led us over to the door into the loading bay. “We always pick reliable models and replace the trucks when there are any signs of continuing performance decline. They’re inspected and tuned up regularly. What else did you want to know?”
“A price sheet would obviously be handy,” I said. “And are there any types of products you have a policy against handling?”
“I’ll be able to email you the sheet. We don’t transport restricted substances or objects because of the complications when you’re crossing state lines. Otherwise we can handle just about anything.”
Including outright illegal goods that they kept on the down low? Maybe we’d see some clues about that inside.
We stepped into the wide, high-ceilinged space, my nose wrinkling at the smell of engine oil that hung in the air. The bay was about half full with several trucks currently on the premises, ranging from a couple of small delivery trucks to a few sixteen wheelers. Some were being loaded at the moment, others simply waiting for the next job.
The guy from the reception area stuck close to us as we made our way from truck to truck, watching us like a hawk. The workers who were handling the loading shot a few glances our way, with expressions that sent apprehension tickling through my nerves. It definitely wasn’t a friendly vibe. I didn’t think they liked strangers poking around at all, as essential as it was for them to maintain a legitimate business—whether that business was a front or not.
Dexter had taken out his phone, but I doubted he was getting many useful pictures while we were under such close surveillance. He’d be doing his best, anyway.
At the trucks being loaded, I ambled close enough to glance surreptitiously at the clipboards left here or there with the shipping documentation. One was heading across the country with a bunch of furniture. Another was carrying electronics to a discount store on the other side of the state. Both of those sounded like totally legit businesses, but then, they wouldn’t have advertised anything unsavory they were doing where a passerby could spot it.
“Watch where you’re standing,” one of the truckers growled at me, motioning for us to get out of the way. We hustled to the side, and he heaved a stack of boxes into the back of the truck we’d been checking out. Now the faces around us had become even less welcoming.
I strode onward to the smallest of the trucks, curious about what they were handling locally. As I approached, the worker there snatched up the inventory before I could get a close look at it, but I did manage to make out the name of the delivery location.
