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“Where did he go?” Andi held a hand up around her eyes, trying to block the icy precipitation that pummeled her.
“I have no idea. We should let the police know. But he’s not under your truck.”
Maybe this guy showing up was a blessing in disguise.
Maybe.
If he wasn’t a hitman.
After all, Andi knew Stockton’s death hadn’t really been the result of him being in the wrong place at the wrong time when that convenience store had been robbed.
She knew Victor had hired someone to do it.
The problem was, Andi couldn’t prove it—especially since the gunman had taken his own life before the police could arrest him.
“I’ll keep looking out here while you call,” the man said.
Andi nodded at his words and climbed into her rig.
Lingering warmth teased her from inside the cab, and she welcomed the reprieve.
She radioed Lockjaw, thankful her CB still worked. Still, she dreaded this conversation. Dreaded drawing unnecessary attention to herself and announcing what had happened over the airwaves. It was no way to earn respect in this male-dominated field.
“Frostbite, what’s going on?”
“A man was standing in the road in front of me. I braked when I tried not to hit him, and the truck slid off the road.” Andi paused as she waited for his reaction.
He muttered curses under his breath before finally saying, “I can try to get a tow truck out to you, but it will probably be hours. Conditions are bad right now. There’s even a rumor that the bridge over the Yukon is shut down. Heard it was because of a frost heave, but I’m waiting for confirmation. No one else is out right now. They’re telling everyone to get off the road.”
Andi frowned as she glanced around. “Well . . . I’m off the road.”
“This is no time for jokes.”
“Noted,” she muttered dryly.
Lockjaw mumbled several more things under his breath. “I’ll let the state police know, but no one will be able to help you tonight. In the meantime, Skeeter is the only other Windswept driver up your way, and he’s already pulled into Coldfoot for the night. You want me to have him pick you up?”
Skeeter . . . the man was a creep. He was Lockjaw’s son, and Andi was pretty sure he should be on a sex offender list somewhere.
“No, another traveler is helping me,” Andi said. “I’ll figure something out.”
“Be careful . . . there are a lot of unsavory characters in the area. You sure you can trust this other traveler?”
No, Andi wasn’t sure at all.
But she didn’t have much choice.
* * *
Caution pinched Duke’s spine as his boots crunched in the snow. The wind whipped around him, freezing any exposed skin. If a person wasn’t prepared, this weather could be a killer.
As he continued searching around the truck, he saw the word “Frostbite” painted in light blue on the back of the cab.
Interesting handle for a truck driver.
He frowned.
Something about this situation made him feel uneasy.
