Читать книгу Final Stand - Helen Myers R. - Страница 2

The bite of gravel at his bare feet irritated as much as curiosity and conscience plagued Gray’s mind, encouraging him to be quick. Upon opening the passenger door, he saw that the van was designed for commercial purposes. There was only the shell of the truck and little else. A suitcase, sleeping bag and pillow were stacked neatly behind the driver’s seat. Anna Diaz was traveling light.

Leaning over the passenger seat, he spotted a black leather purse on the floorboard. Without the slightest twinge of guilt, he lifted out her wallet. Flipping open the buttery-soft flap, he eyed the Louisiana license, then tilted the thing back and forth to get a better look at her photo. No, it wasn’t glare on the plastic that made it so unclear, he realized. The photo was scratched.

His unease growing, he checked the rest of the wallet. All of the credit card slots were empty, and there were no other photos; however, what had him exhaling in a low whistle was the amount of cash she was carrying.

He found yet another stash of bills in a different compartment in the bag. Maybe, he thought with growing bitterness, he would also find the reason for her to have such resources. Simple logic was beginning to offer a few conclusions.

Gray shoved the purse back in place…possibly a bit too roughly because it tipped over. As he reached to straighten it, his fingertips brushed against something in the seat pocket.

Frowning, he eased his hand inside and closed his fingertips around smooth steel. He drew out a Smith & Wesson .9 mm automatic—not the kind of thing a simple working girl relocating toted around with her…unless her work was dangerous.