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“We’ll be in Tulsa before too long. We can stop there and grab a bite to eat before bunking down for the night.”
Shane settled back into comfortable silence and looked out into the night. He’d been all over the world, and it always amazed him to see how different the sky looked. He’d been in third world countries and drug-run jungles, but he’d never seen a sky as black as the one over him right now. No stars shone and the moon was just a sliver of pale dust. The land wasn’t cluttered with modern technology—no oil wells, power lines, self-service gas stations or cell phone service. It was just open, empty land.
Almost an hour had passed in silence when Rachel sat up in her seat and emitted a sound he’d not heard from her before. He was already checking the rearview mirror and increasing their speed, his gun clutched comfortably in his right hand while he searched for danger.
“Oh, my God,” she said, pulling on his shirt sleeve like a child. “Do you see it?”
“See what?” he asked, wondering if she was hallucinating because of lack of sleep.
“The lights. All the glorious lights,” she said. “Stay with me, Quincy. The lights mean there’s civilization—food, a shower, a soft bed. Don’t tell me you’re not excited about the prospects that lie ahead of us. Tulsa is my new favorite city.”
Shane didn’t want to think about Rachel Valentine and a soft bed in the same sentence together. Which posed another problem. He was going to have to share a room with her. Pure torture. She’d been to hell and back in the last twenty-four hours and looked like it, and she was still the only woman who’d woken the dead places inside of him. Being a professional was going to kill him.
“Step on it, sugar,” she said. “Your client is hungry and in desperate need of a shower. And you did say you always try to please the client.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Shane said. He was lighter of heart than he’d been in a long time, and it was all because he was on the run from a madman with a woman he was afraid he could fall in love with. It was fortunate he had no plans to go down that path, or he’d be in real trouble.
* * *
Rachel’s stomach rumbled again as Shane pulled into the lot of a twenty-four-hour diner attached to what could at best be called a “seedy” motel—minus the “M.”Jake’s otelwas as basic as you could get. It was a rectangle of sandy-colored, crumbling brick trimmed with turquoise paint. There were two floors and twenty-four rooms with stairs at each end, and each room had one window. A soft drink machine sat in the middle of the sidewalk with an “out of order” sign taped to it.
“You sure know how to show a girl a good time, Quincy.”
“That’s what they tell me. But this will have to do until Jones can supply me with some more cash.”
“My eyes are going to be closed anyway, so it’s not like I’ll actually see the roaches crawling around on the floor.”
“That’s the spirit,” he said.
They got out of the Explorer and headed toward the diner. “It’s getting cooler,” Rachel said, rubbing her bare arms.
The wind had picked up and the air smelled of ozone and static lay heavy in the air. “Looks like we’ll get a thunderstorm before the night’s over. I hope Jake’s otel can handle a little rain.”
The diner was empty when they went inside. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead and cracked vinyl booths with scarred Formica tabletops lined the walls. The floor was black and white checked squares, dingy with what looked like years of scuff marks and soda spills.
A lone waitress with bottle-thick glasses and permed brown hair that frizzed away from her face sat perched on a stool behind the register. Her age was somewhere between thirty-five and sixty-five. The lights weren’t flattering. She was doing a crossword puzzle and gave them no more than a cursory glance when they entered. Her sigh of annoyance could be heard all over the restaurant.
“How you folks doin’ tonight,” she said as she grabbed a couple of greasy menus and led them to a corner booth.
“Fine, thank you,” Rachel said politely.
“The name’s Nadine. Coffee’s fresh and bottomless if you want it. Or we got other stuff.”
“Coffee’s fine with me,” Shane answered.
“Just water for me,” Rachel said. “And I already know I want the biggest cheeseburger you have with a side of fries.”
“Make that two,” Shane said, before the waitress had a chance to lay the greasy menu in front of him.
“Comin’ right out, folks,” Nadine said and shuffled away.
“I’m going to wash up in the bathroom and see if I can find a phone to use,” Rachel said. “I won’t rest easy until I get in touch with Cleo and Randy and know they’re safe.”
Shane waited until she disappeared and moved to a position where he could see both the bathroom and the front doors. The parking lot was still empty other than the green Explorer, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He pulled out a slip of paper from his wallet that held the number Jones had given him earlier that evening and he used one of the disposable cell phones.
“What the hell have you gotten involved in, Ace?” Jones Daugherty asked as he came on the line. Ace had been Shane’s call name in the Marines because of his ability to hit his target with complete accuracy.
“Your name’s come up with a red flag all over the FBI. Word has it your apartment building was torched, your business was destroyed and you’re wanted for questioning as a person of interest in the murder of a high-profile attorney in Dallas. And all because of a woman. Sounds like you should have stayed in the FBI. Going independent has obviously made you forget how to follow the rules.”
