Читать книгу What She Saw - Rachel Lee - Страница 8

Two nights later, Haley raced into work, her face burning. Hasty was sitting at his stool behind the cash register and his eyebrows lifted. “What the heck happened to you?”

“Dress rehearsal is a great time to find out I must be allergic to stage makeup.”

Hasty’s jaw dropped and then he let out a belly laugh. “No!”

“Oh, yes. Is there any still left? I scrubbed it so much with cold cream, but it still burns.”

“I can’t see it, but dang, girl, you look like you spent too long in the sun.”

“And I have to do this again on Friday and Saturday night,” Haley answered. “I can’t believe this.”

“Can’t they let you use something else?”

“I’m not sure it would work. Besides, I never wear makeup because it’s an expensive waste of money. For all I know, I’m allergic to all of it.”

“Go back and wash up some more. I got some of those over-the-counter pills that might help. It’ll make you sleepy, though. Maybe you should just take the night off.”

“Not unless you think I look that bad. I got bills, remember?”

Hasty chuckled a little and shook his head. “Soap and water, then I’ll give you one of them little pink pills. If you’re slow tonight, I won’t hold it against you.”

Haley took his advice, scrubbing well with soap from the hand dispenser, and leaning close to the mirror to check for any remnants of makeup. She couldn’t find any, but her whole face looked red and just a bit puffy.

When she got back out front, Hasty and Claire were seated on opposite sides of the counter, drinking coffee and chatting. Claire took one look and shook her head.

“Can’t you get someone else to fill in for you? What do they call them? Understudies?”

“Not for my role. It’s too small. No, I’ll just have to get through this.”

She slid onto a stool beside Claire with a cup of coffee and accepted the pill Hasty popped out of a blister pack into her hand. “I didn’t know I was in trouble until after the rehearsal had started. I wanted to scratch my face off.”

“You need to be careful,” Claire said. “I had a cousin who had an allergic reaction and it put her in the hospital the second time she had it. The first time wasn’t that bad.”

“I should be able to get the makeup on and off in about fifteen minutes Friday night. And everybody knows what happened.”

“That’s good. They’ll know what’s going on if it gets bad. Maybe it would help to put some petroleum jelly on your face before the makeup.”

“That’s an idea. Thanks.”

Hasty poured himself some more coffee, then came back to lean his elbow on the counter. “Ray’s wake is tonight and tomorrow night. Funeral Friday morning. I’m thinking about going to the funeral.”

“I guess I should,” Haley said reluctantly. The last funeral she had been to was her mother’s, and she wasn’t sure she ever again wanted to see the inside of Meeker’s Funeral Home. “The wake, anyway. For a few minutes. I have a final Friday morning.”

“Ray had his troubles,” Hasty opined, “but the family’s never been a problem. Being poor ain’t a sin, despite what some think.”

“You’re talking to a couple of waitresses,” Claire said, a touch tartly. “We know.”

Hasty flashed a grin. “You girls get better tips than my day girls. They got you beat on poor.”

Claire sniffed. “Your day girls don’t work as hard. If they want more money, tell them to work nights.”

Hasty was still looking amused. “I think they get that.”

A short while later, the night’s first wave rolled in. Haley and Claire jumped to work, and after a little while, even though she noticed she was a little slower than usual, Haley felt her face calming down.

At least nobody asked her about it. She joked casually with some of the drivers, but it seemed like an oddly quiet night. She wondered if news about Ray’s death had gotten around and they were all feeling a little more sober than usual.

The place sure didn’t feel quite as energetic as it usually did when it was full. Or maybe that was the little pill Hasty had given her.

She was working her way back through her section, clearing some tables, handing out tickets and picking up cash and change, serving latecomers, when Buck Devlin walked in. It was so unusual to see him when the place was crowded that she froze for a split second. He got his usual table, though, despite the crowd, and she worked her way toward him.

It wasn’t easy. The night turned unusual in that another wave arrived before the first was done. Hasty was cooking with both hands as fast as he could, and Claire was looking a bit frazzled. What was going on?

Then someone asked her for directions to the funeral parlor and she knew: these men had heard about Ray’s death and that his wake started tonight. Whether they’d known him or not, at least some were going to pay their respects, however briefly.

Because of the hour, most ate quickly, then headed out to walk to the funeral home, only a couple of blocks away.

“Isn’t that something?” Claire murmured to her as they brushed past each other.

Haley nodded. It was the last thing she would have expected.

At last she made it to Buck’s table. By this point her apron was showing signs of wear and a tickle at her neck told her some of her hair had escaped from the bun.

“The usual?” she asked him.

“Not tonight,” he answered. “What do you recommend?”

“Anything,” she answered promptly. “It’s all good.”

“Then surprise me.” He smiled, but the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Anything you don’t like or can’t eat?”

“I’ve never been picky.”

“You’re so helpful,” she said tartly. “I’m a waitress, not a wife. Pick something from the menu. I promise you’ll like it.”

So he pulled the plastic card from the holder. “You going to Ray’s wake?” he asked casually as he scanned the menu.

“Tomorrow night. I’m surprised so many drivers are going.”

“Yeah. They’ve been gabbing about it on the radio since it happened. It bothers them.”

“I guess I can see that. Did many of them know him?”

“I don’t know. But I do know it doesn’t make any sense.”

“When does it ever?”

He looked up and his eyes seemed to bore into her. “Something wrong?”

She caught herself, wondering why she was being so prickly. “Sorry.” Then a thought occurred to her. “I took an allergy pill. I guess it’s not agreeing with me.”

He nodded, dropped his gaze to the menu and said, “I’ll take the steak, medium rare, side of mashed potatoes and broccoli.”

She scribbled it down then tried for a lighter note. “A man who eats broccoli. I hope Hasty can remember how to cook it.”

“Nuke it for three if it’s frozen,” Buck said and winked. “Otherwise, I’ll take it raw.”

That drew a laugh from her and she felt some inexplicable tension seeping away. Maybe it was just from the unusual burst of traffic. She was used to one level of activity, but tonight had been almost double. Then there was her face burning up and the allergy pill. Enough to make her just a bit irritable.

Hasty remembered how to make the broccoli, of course. She carried the plates to Buck’s table, refilled his coffee and went to take care of the remaining handful of drivers. In another half hour, the place had quieted almost to desolation, and, one by one, trucks started pulling out of the lot. She figured that might be the last of them for a while if they’d hurried to get here for the wake.

“Time for a smoke break,” Hasty announced. “You gals take some time, too.”

“I’m joining you,” Claire said.

“You don’t smoke,” Haley remarked.

“I used to. And right now I want one.”

Hasty eyed Haley. “You going to be okay?”

“Like I can’t hold the fort for ten minutes?”

So the two of them headed out back. Which left her alone in the restaurant with Buck Devlin, who was taking his time with his steak.

“Join me,” he suggested. “It wouldn’t hurt to rest your feet.”

She supposed it wouldn’t. “Are you going to Ray’s wake, too?” She glanced at her watch. If she remembered correctly, wakes ended at nine, and it was already past that.

“Tomorrow night,” he answered.

All of a sudden everything zipped into clear focus. The faint fog left by the allergy pill was gone. Her heart even remembered how to speed up. “You’re staying in town?”

“Over at the La-Z-Rest. I’m on vacation.”

She almost gaped at him.

He caught the expression and his eyes danced a little. “What?”

“Why in the world would someone on vacation stay here?”

“Where would you go?”

“Any place. Denver. New York. Paris. Miami. I don’t know. Some place with things to do.”

“So you want action?”

“I wouldn’t exactly put it like that,” she admitted. “There’s nothing wrong with this place. I like it. It just doesn’t strike me as a vacation spot.”

“That’s because you live here. You can’t see its charm.”

A little laugh escaped her. “We roll up the sidewalks at nine, except for here and the roadhouses. You’re going to get bored.”

“I doubt it. It’s quiet here. I like that. Plenty of nice places to walk. I like that, too, especially when I spend so much time driving.”

She supposed she could see that. Maybe. “Well, if you’re into hiking, there are some nice mountains.”

“They probably look different when you’re not behind the wheel of a heavy rig,” he allowed.

“Well, I’ll be interested to see how long you last. Most people who visit here wonder how we can stand it.”

“What makes this place work for you?”

She thought about it. “People. Great people. There’s something nice about knowing almost everyone. But that’s not going to work for you.”

“Maybe not. We’ll see. It’s sure some pretty countryside.”

She looked down at the table and realized she didn’t believe him. She was right, nobody picked this place for a vacation. Not even someone who was tired of driving. People who vacationed here—and there weren’t a ton of them—came to camp up in the mountains and hike.

“So, looks like you got sunburned.” He pushed his plate to one side.

Suddenly self-conscious, she put her hand to her cheek. “I wish. No, I had a dress rehearsal for a play I’m doing at school, and I discovered I’m allergic to the stage makeup.”

A smile crooked one corner of his mouth. “I bet that’s miserable. And you have to do it again? When’s the play?”

“Friday and Saturday night.”

“I ought to come to see you.”

“I’m on stage for less than five minutes. You won’t see much. But it is good play, a mystery. One of the students wrote it.”

“I’ll definitely come.”

She laughed. “See, you’re already looking for stuff to do around here. If you stay long enough, you’ll go crazy.” She started to get up as she saw another truck pulling in.

But Buck stopped her by reaching out and touching her hand. The contact felt almost like an electric spark, a zap that ran through her entire body. Before she could react, he’d withdrawn his touch. “I need to talk to you,” he said. “About what happened to Ray. Not here, though.”

For the first time, a real shiver of uneasiness ran through her. What was going on? And why should she trust this guy she didn’t know? Was he some kind of stalker?

All of a sudden, she had major doubts about the kind of person Buck Devlin might be. About the danger he could represent.

“I don’t think so,” she said briskly and stood. “I don’t see customers outside of work. Ever.”

Then another driver came through the door, ending the conversation. For the first time, she was relieved to get away from Buck Devlin.

Haley felt a little silly for asking Hasty to walk her to her car. She didn’t tell him why, but she also couldn’t forget that Buck was in the motel just across the way. At least Hasty didn’t ask any questions. Maybe he didn’t think it unusual for a woman to get a little nervous from time to time about crossing that huge parking lot where almost anything could lurk.

And maybe it really wasn’t. All kinds of strangers came through that lot, people with no roots and ties here. Maybe she should have been afraid all along of walking out there alone in the dark. She just wasn’t used to thinking that way.

But Buck had made her think that way, and ever since she’d told him off, she’d been wondering if she had overreacted. He wasn’t the first driver to make a suggestion and he wouldn’t be the last. So what had set her off? Disappointment that he was no better? Or his reference to Ray?

She honestly wasn’t sure. Overreaction, she decided finally. She was still upset that someone she knew had died, her face was a mess because of an allergic reaction, she’d taken a pill that had left her feeling off-kilter all night and then Buck had wanted to talk to her away from work.

Well, it wasn’t the first time some driver had made that suggestion, but it was the first time she’d gone into hyperdrive over it.

Thinking back over it, she almost felt embarrassed. It wasn’t as if he was a total stranger, in the sense that he’d been coming into the place for many months now. People knew who he was and who he worked for.

Now if it had been some guy she’d never seen before, that might have been reason to get upset.

Or maybe she had reacted oddly because he said he was vacationing here. At the ends of the earth. At a truck stop surrounded by a small town and a lot of wide-open spaces and distant ranches. Most definitely not a place on most people’s vacation lists.

That, linked with Ray and Buck’s interest in what had happened in the parking lot before the accident, seemed odd.

But odd was not the same as evil. And maybe his company had asked him to check around. How would she know, since she hadn’t given him a chance to explain anything?

Standing before her mirror, washing her face yet again and feeling some relief that most of the redness and swelling had gone down, she decided she had probably overreacted.

She didn’t work tomorrow night, but she might run into him at Ray’s wake, and if she did, she promised herself she was going to ask some questions.

Because the simple truth was, she didn’t want to put Buck in the category he seemed to be sliding toward: just another creep. She didn’t want to put him there at all.

Especially when she finally crawled exhausted into bed and realized that his face was floating in her mind’s eye, and that all she could think about was what it might be like to feel his arms around her.

Stupid, but private, she thought as she drifted away. No one would ever know.

And she was too smart to get herself into trouble over a rolling stone.

The wake the next night was surprisingly crowded. Or maybe not, Haley thought as she stood to one side and watched a swirl of local people she knew and truckers she recognized. All spoke in the subdued voices that seemed to go with the solemn situation. Her mother’s viewing had been less crowded.

People she had known at least by sight for most of her life. People who hadn’t forgotten her mother or her through all those terrible years of illness, even though the two of them had gradually withdrawn from most social contact.

Good people.

This was different, though, with those truckers coming and going in a fairly steady stream. She hadn’t realized that they formed such strong bonds just from being on the road. But they were all drivers who’d been coming through Hasty’s truck stop for a long time. Maybe they felt a link with this little town.

She was surprised, though, by how elaborate the funeral was. Her mother’s had been much less so, simply because after her illness there were few resources left. She would have thought Ray’s family would find it even harder. That looked like an awfully expensive casket, for one thing. And there was a ton of flowers. Plus, having a two-night viewing cost more. She’d had to shave it for her mother, having a relatively short wake right before the funeral.

“Hey,” said a familiar voice, and she turned to see one of her high school friends, a girl named Debbie. “Sad about Ray, huh?”

“Very. I have to admit I hadn’t seen him but once since high school, though.”

“I had.” Debbie shrugged. “He asked me out a few times in the last month.”

“Oh, Debbie, you must be devastated!” Haley at once reached for her hand.

Debbie shook her head. “Not really. I didn’t take him up on it. It was just kind of sad, though, because it sounded like things were really turning around for him. And for his family.”

“Trucking’s a good job.”

Debbie shook her head, and her dark mane of hair swirled a bit. “No, it wasn’t that. Apparently he was coming into some money from somewhere. I thought he was giving me a snow job so I’d go out with him. The Listons have never had two dimes.”

“I know.”

“So I didn’t believe him. I figured he was trying to make himself sound important, you know?”

“I know.”

“But maybe he wasn’t lying.” Debbie sighed. “I mean, look at this wake. You can’t do this when you’re broke. So maybe he got that money he was talking about.”

“I hope so.”

“Me, too.” Debbie’s smile was rather sad. “Well, I paid my respects, so I’ve got to get going. You need to poke your head up more often, Haley. It’s been too long.”

A couple more of her girlfriends stopped to chat with her, too, and a couple of guys who’d once wanted to date her but were now happily married to others of her friends.

Life seemed to have moved on during her mother’s illness and left her a little behind. But that was okay. She was going to catch up. She was already catching up by going to school, setting her sights on her LPN and then her RN. After that, she’d have time to catch up in any other way she wanted.

When things quieted a bit, she made her way over to offer her condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Liston. She didn’t know them well. Just as she hadn’t known Ray well. It occurred to her for the first time that the Listons might have kept to themselves simply because they were so poor. Look at the way Ray had been treated and ignored in school. Maybe the same had happened to his parents. Maybe they’d never quite fit in larger social circles around here. The thought saddened her.

She avoided looking into the open casket as she approached Ray’s parents. They appeared pinched and exhausted, almost worn to the bone by life. Dressed in their Sunday finest, which still looked outdated and threadbare, they seemed overwhelmed by the number of people who had showed up.

Haley offered her hand to Mrs. Liston. “I’m so sorry about Ray. He came into the truck stop that night, just before…well, I was glad to see he had such a good job.”

Mrs. Liston nodded. Mr. Liston, however, said, “He was a good boy, no matter what anyone thought.”

“He was,” Haley agreed. He’d never caused any trouble in school, and whatever scrape he’d gotten into right after graduation, she’d never learned the details.

“The cops don’t think he was good,” Mr. Liston said. “You saw him right before?”

Haley hesitated, wondering what he was seeking. “Yes, I did.”

“They kept asking did he do drugs. My boy didn’t do no drugs. Not ever.”

“I believe you,” Haley said quickly, although she had no way to know anything about what Ray might have done. “He seemed just fine right before his accident.”

“You tell them cops that?”

“I did,” she assured him. “I promise. He was just fine.”

That seemed to ease Mr. Liston’s mind a bit. She gave Mrs. Liston a brief hug then moved away, determined to get out of here.

Enough, she thought, her eyes starting to prickle unwontedly. The smell of flowers, the peculiar odor of this funeral home, was starting to get to her. The last time…no, she didn’t want to think about the last time, when she’d been the one standing there in Mrs. Liston’s place, accepting condolences from kind people, few of whom would ever understand, not really, how much her mother’s death hurt, or what a relief it was after all that suffering.

Of course, she heard all the platitudes, and they were all true, but none of them could possibly ease the pain and confusion. Not one.

She had become motherless at twenty-three, after a descent into hell that had lasted more than five years. Inside she’d felt hollowed out, except for the grief. No platitude for that.

She was almost at the door when she heard her name. “Haley.”

She froze a moment, then turned reluctantly. Buck Devlin stood there, clad in a tan work shirt and jeans. He’d have looked out of place among all the locals dressed in their Sunday best if it hadn’t been for the few remaining truckers.

“Buck,” she said cautiously.

“I wanted to apologize. Can you give me a minute? Just a minute out front. Plenty of people, so you don’t have to be scared.”

He looked earnest enough, but that wasn’t what grabbed her. Scared? She didn’t like that. Maybe she had felt a momentary fear the night before, but she wasn’t feeling it now. She wasn’t a naturally scared sort of person, and it irritated her that he might think she was.

“Sure. Just a few minutes, though.”

Outside, they stepped off the sidewalk a few paces so they wouldn’t block the people who were coming and going. Dusk was just settling over the world.

She just looked at him, waiting, reluctant to give him an inch.

“I’m sorry I made you uneasy,” he said. “So maybe I should explain a few things.”

“That might help.”

“For starters, I’m not exactly on vacation.”

She folded her arms tightly beneath her breasts, her guard slamming into place. “So you’re a liar?”

“No.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair, cut high and tight, almost military style. “I’m on vacation in one sense. Legitimately. That’s how my company has me listed right now.”

“So what’s the not exactly part?”

“My company also asked me to look into what happened to Ray and what might have been going on in your parking lot that night. We’re having problems with shipments.”

She looked at him, her jaw dropping. “I’m supposed to believe that? You’re a truck driver, Buck Devlin. Why would they ask you?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Could you hold it down? I don’t want the whole world to know.”

“That you’re a storyteller? Got any more tall tales for me?”

“It’s not a tall tale. Yes, I’m a driver now. But before that, I was a military cop. That’s why the company asked me to look into this. They don’t want to bring the feds in because it could kill business.”

“Prove it,” she said shortly. What kind of idiot did he take her for? Angry about being lied to, she stormed toward her car. Damn, he wasn’t even a good liar.

“Haley.”

She didn’t stop. Not that it made any difference. He was beside her before she reached her car.

“Just listen,” he said. “Please.”

“I may be a small-town girl, but I’m not stupid. I think I’ve heard enough.”

He caught her arm, and when she tried to pull free, he didn’t let go. That made her even madder. “I’ll scream.”

“Dammit, Haley, just let me finish. My company’s been having problems with our shipments. You saw something happening with Ray’s truck that night. You recognized him in the diner. You talked to him. Less than an hour later he’s dead. If Ray’s death wasn’t an accident, then you’re the proverbial loose end.”

That froze her. Her ears buzzed and the world seemed to rock beneath her. Haley leaned against her car, waiting for it to settle down again. What the hell was going on?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But there’s no easy way to tell you. Is there some place we can talk where you’ll feel safe but half the town won’t hear me?”

She might have laughed if she wasn’t still feeling so shaken. Anger had turned to shock in an instant, and her brain was having trouble making the adjustment. “Around here? Anybody who wants a private conversation here has it at home.” And that was the truth.

He let go of her arm. “Are you okay?”

“I will be. I always am.” She knew that for a fact. Still leaning against her car, she closed her eyes and tried to take it all in. What if he wasn’t lying? And what if what she had seen, or thought she had seen, had something to do with Ray’s death? How many people knew? Two cops. Claire and Hasty. And that other driver she had never seen before, the one who had come in for coffee with Ray. The one who, now that she thought about it, had probably been driving the other truck when the cargo had been transferred. God!

She opened her eyes and saw Buck watching her with evident concern.

“I’m sure,” he said, “you don’t want to come to the La-Z-Rest with me. I’m equally certain you don’t want me to know where you live. So where else will you feel safe while we talk?”

Haley nodded as her mind stopped reeling. The whole town was going to be talking if she and Buck stood here any longer. “Do you know where the college campus is?”

“Yeah. I walked around some today.”

“I’ll see you there in fifteen minutes.” She didn’t offer him a ride. That would make people talk, too. But over on the college campus there were people who weren’t local. A stranger wouldn’t stick out and tongues wouldn’t start wagging. “There are some benches in the center of the quad.” And there’d still be plenty of students and faculty around at this hour, even if it was summer.

“Fifteen minutes,” he agreed.

She drove off, glancing at him in her rearview mirror, and wondering what the heck she had just gotten into.

Buck had spent the day wandering. A need to know the physical territory was ingrained in him. He’d hit a surplus shop and found a decent pair of lace-up boots he could run in, and added some extra jeans and some shirts that would fit in around here, although he didn’t go for anything approaching the perennially popular Western look. A ball cap suited him better than a cowboy hat, and he wasn’t putting anything on his feet that might keep him from moving fast.

He could have run to the campus. In fact, he would have liked to run, it would have felt good, but he figured it would draw attention. A brisk walk would have to do, and he still arrived at the quad on campus before Haley.

He sat there on the bench, wondering if she would even show, or if he’d find himself talking to a couple of cops, explaining why he was harassing a nice local girl.

He wondered about it, but he didn’t worry about it. He didn’t worry about much, and he was fairly sure that even a superficial background check would reassure the cops. The stuff they’d never see, the stuff so deeply classified it would never see the light of day, was another story. But nobody could get at that.

So he waited, pondering how best to gain Haley’s trust after having given her plenty of reason to think he was either crazy or a con man. He could see it from her point of view. Seeing things from other people’s points of view was one of his gifts—and one of his curses.

She was right to be dubious, and he sure as hell hadn’t given her a thing to reassure her. Wild story from a stranger. Great start.

But she showed up. He heard the car door slam and turned his head in time to see her coming his way.

She was still wearing the simple black dress she had worn at the funeral home and he couldn’t resist giving her the once-over. Trim figure, shapely calves, delicate ankles. Even so modestly dressed she wouldn’t ever fail to catch a man’s attention. Much to his surprise, she carried two large cups of takeout coffee and when she reached him, she handed him one.

“Okay,” she said as she sat on the bench beside him. A group of young men and women emerged from a building and started walking across the far side of the quad from them. Not long after, a smaller group appeared.

“I’m waiting,” she reminded him.

“Somebody know you’re here?”

“Of course.”

“With me?”

“Yes.”

He sighed. “I hope you trust whoever it is.”

“More than I trust you right now.”

“Just tell me you didn’t tell them the whole story.”

“Of course not! Sheesh, Buck, I don’t believe it myself yet. It sounds like something out of a movie.”

“I’ll give you that.” He put his coffee on the ground beside his feet and pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he flipped out his military ID and his commercial driver’s license. “The ID doesn’t say much, but maybe it’ll help.”

She peered at the two laminated cards in the dim light from a nearby pole. “How can you still be military and drive a truck?”

“Ex-military. I have privileges because I was medically discharged. That card means I can use base facilities, like the exchange and the hospital.”

“What happened?”

“That’s a long story for another time. There’s a more pressing matter.”

Slowly she handed the cards back to him, but her eyes were on his face. “Buxton Devlin,” she said slowly. “It looks real, I guess. But Buxton?”

“My mother’s maiden name. She died having me and my dad named me for her. I guess he figured Mary wouldn’t work.”

Humor sparkled briefly across her face. “I guess it wouldn’t.”

“Anyway, Buxton became Buck real fast. My dad shortened it when I first started talking and couldn’t get the whole thing out right. Good thing, too, since I was a military brat. It was easier navigating childhood as Buck.”

“That probably would have been true almost anywhere.” She paused, waiting. Okay, his name appeared to be real, but what else could she be sure of? A little childhood story hardly added up to a huge heap of truth.

He shoved his wallet into his jeans pocket and picked up his coffee. “This is hard.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not used to having to prove my credentials. I either worked solo, or with a group of other MPs. Either way, I had a badge. Explaining this to someone who doesn’t have any background…” He paused, then shrugged. “I’ll try. Ask questions. I’ll answer what I know.”

“Okay.” She was agreeable to that. Her eyes followed another group walking toward the little student union, hardly more than a coffee shop, but a great place to gather.

“Before I left Seattle on my last run, my boss asked me to keep my ear to the ground. It seems some shipments are getting messed up and they can’t figure out how or why.” He stopped. “Maybe I need to backtrack.”

She just nodded and waited.

“We’re pretty careful about what goes on our trucks. Drivers are supposed to be extra careful, because when we sign for a load, we’re responsible for it until it reaches the next terminal or destination for off-load. You get that?”

“Perfectly.” It seemed sensible to her.

“Okay. Well, everything that comes into the terminal for shipping is in crates or containers. Those are all labeled. Everything has a bar code. So we scan those labels every time we move anything around. When my truck gets loaded, I stand there, count crates, and every crate is scanned while it’s being loaded. I have a manifest of what they said they were going to load, to compare to the scan of everything that goes on my truck. It covers my butt, and covers the company. So when I pull out of the terminal, I know my manifest matches exactly what’s on the truck.”

She nodded. “Makes sense.”

“It does. And it works. Or it did until about four months ago. Then something started to go wrong. My boss said they couldn’t find anything wrong at the terminal. No mismatched scans or anything. But somehow, by the time trucks arrived in Denver, the cargoes had changed. Some crates arrived late and on different trucks. And it’s getting more frequent.”

Suddenly she understood. “What I saw in the lot!”

“Maybe. Bill, my boss, figured something had to be happening along the road, and he asked me to keep an eye out because I used to be an MP.”

“Why not just call the authorities?”

“Because we’d have a federal investigation. Interstate commerce and all that. The head honchos are afraid they’d shut us down by opening and searching every crate going in and out of our Seattle terminal. It would kill business. So he doesn’t want to do that if we can solve the problem ourselves. I guess he figures that if I can nail something down, we can put the authorities on the right track without sacrificing all our business.”

She sipped coffee, noting that her hand had started to shake a little. It matched the uneasy fluttering in her stomach. “It just got bigger, didn’t it? Ray, I mean.”

“I’m seriously wondering about that. I could drive that stretch of road blindfolded. No reason for a truck to roll. Or for a driver to be dead.”

She had to put her coffee down as her heart started to climb into her throat. “What do you want from me?”

“I want two things. The first is to keep an eye on you, because you might have seen the very kind of cargo switch I was supposed to be looking out for. A few people already know what you saw. I’m worried about you. That’s why I told you not to say any more about it. Maybe word won’t get around, but I can’t be sure.”

“What else?” Her voice sounded a little thin even to her.

“Give me cover. People are going to start wondering why I’m hanging around. Like you said, this isn’t a dream vacation spot. So let me hang around, doing the lovesick-puppy thing. I’ll ask you out. You can keep saying no. I’ll look like a fool, but not in a way that arouses any suspicion. In the meantime…”

She turned to face him. “Yes? In the meantime what?”

“Well, you can let me know if you hear or see anything. Just me. I’m going to keep a pretty close eye on that truck stop, but there are other things. For example, the Liston family got an anonymous donation for that fancy funeral.”

Haley gasped. “I wondered. Oh, man, I wondered. They’ve never had any money, and I know how much I had to cut back on my own mother’s funeral last year. I looked at that…Do you know how much it costs to have a two-night wake? Or a coffin like that?”

“Thousands.”

“More than a few thousand. How did you find out they got a donation?”

“I heard somebody talking.”

“Well, I heard somebody talking, too. Apparently Ray had been telling at least one person that he was about to come into some money.”

“Money.” He almost spat the word. “Well, that would tend to confirm it.”

“Confirm what?”

“Where there’s a lot of money, there’s a lot of danger. Money and power are the two biggest corruptors, and when either gets involved, lives don’t seem to matter. I just wonder why they contributed to the funeral. Can’t be much conscience in somebody who would kill to keep a secret.”

“But folks around here do stuff like that. People would have chipped in so the Listons could bury Ray. They would have.” She remembered the offers she had received to help pay for her mother’s expenses. Offers she had been able to turn down because she had just enough. “Maybe that’s all it was, folks chipping in.”

“Maybe. But then you have Ray talking about coming into money.”

She didn’t like the way this was making her feel. She looked around at the familiar quad, in darkness now, and realized her world had shifted hugely. Would she ever see her friendly little town in quite the same way again? She suddenly experienced the most childish urge to close her eyes, as if that would make it go away. Like hiding under the bedcovers when you thought a monster was in the closet. How much protection did refusing to see give you? Zip, she thought unhappily.

One of her neighbors might be involved in something so ugly he was willing to kill. She shuddered. “I don’t want any part of this.”

“I don’t think you get the choice anymore. You saw something. If the wrong person knows…”

She didn’t need him to finish the thought. Another shiver ran through her and she leaned over to throw her coffee into the trash can at the end of the bench. Then she wrapped her arms tightly around herself and looked out at the alien world she had just landed in. If the wrong person knew. She had no idea who the wrong person might be. The Listons, who had asked her if she’d told the police that Ray had seemed fine? Claire or Hasty, who had heard what she told Micah and Sarah when they came in to ask questions? No. She couldn’t believe any of them could mean her any harm.

“Haley…” All of sudden, strong arms wrapped around her, hauling her close. She should have resisted, but that embrace felt so good, and those arms felt so strong and protective. It had been way, way too long since anyone had hugged her, and her throat tightened as she realized how much she had missed that kind of comfort. So much, evidently, that it felt good even from a stranger.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he murmured. “That much I can swear. Not one bad thing is going to happen to you.”

“You can’t promise that,” she said weakly into his shoulder. “Nobody can.” Life had certainly taught her that lesson the hard way.

“I can. It used to be my job. Nobody’s going to hurt you. They’ll have to get through me first.”

“Why? Why do you care?”

“Because I do. Some things I just care about. You’re at the top of my list right now. Besides,” he added in an evident attempt to lighten the moment, “I’ve had my eye on you for months. You’re a temptation, woman.”

A feeble laugh escaped her. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

He moved her back so that his dark eyes stared straight into hers. “It should. It’s been a long time since I had any desire to camp on a woman’s doorstep.”

The words left her speechless. She could see he meant them by the look in his eyes, and sexual heat began to drizzle through her until it pooled achingly between her thighs. Rationally she knew her reaction was foolish, but rationality had nothing to do with it. She’d been noticing this man for months, even daydreaming about him in ways she hadn’t daydreamed about anyone since high school. Every time she saw him, she felt that same pull, that same desire for something to happen between them.

Now something was happening, and it was not at all what she’d imagined. Almost unconsciously, she clamped her thighs together, wishing she wasn’t abruptly aware that every breath she took made her shirt slide over nipples that were suddenly sensitive even through her bra. She made herself look away from him, trying to get her grounding. Trying to think sensibly. Trying to regain her self-control.

As soon as she looked away, his arms dropped from her. The loss of his touch was almost enough to draw an incautious protest from her. She bit it back. There were more important things. This man had just told her she might be in danger. She couldn’t afford to lose sight of that.

“This is hard to take in,” she said after a minute.

“It’s not the usual way of looking at things,” he admitted. “And I could be wrong about you being in any danger. God willing, I am. I just don’t want to risk it.”

That was reasonable, she supposed. She tried to shake off the feeling that the deepening shadows around her might hold a threat. God, she wasn’t used to thinking this way. Life had dealt her its blows right out in the open.

And now here she was, putting in place the first building blocks of a future, and some guy came virtually out of nowhere to tell her that she might wind up like Ray? All because she had glimpsed something in the truck-stop parking lot?

Deal! Her brain almost barked the order at her, and she stiffened. If she could say nothing else about herself, if there was one thing she knew about herself for certain, it was that she dealt with life’s curveballs. All of them.

She sat up straighter, drew a breath and thought, All right. This is how it is. Now what was she to do about it?

There was one thing she knew instantly, of course. “Well, you’ve successfully made me afraid to go home alone.”

“I’m sorry. Like I said, I’m not sure you’re at risk. But equally, I can’t be sure you’re not. You saw something that nobody was supposed to see. You saw the driver of the other truck, right?”

“Yes. He came in for coffee, too.”

“And you saw the transfer of cargo.”

“I think I did. It’s not easy to see that parking lot clearly from inside the restaurant at night.”

“But you mentioned it. Others may have mentioned it after they heard what you told the police. Regardless, if I was that other driver, I’d be feeling a bit edgy. You could identify him. Maybe you could describe his truck. He might lie low and wait, but then again, killing Ray seems awfully stupid to me. If you want a quiet operation, you don’t draw attention to it by murder.”

She looked straight at him. “Do you think Ray was killed because of me?” The thought made her heart quail.

“Actually, no. I suspect Ray had irritated them in some other way. Maybe by talking about coming into some money. Something made them think he was a liability. But again, that’s my guess. I’m not even going to be sure of that until I see the accident reports.”

“How will you do that?”

“I’m going to talk to the cops in a few days.”

He couldn’t have said anything more likely to make her believe he was exactly what he said he was. “Why would they talk to you?”

“Because I’m here on behalf of my company. And they’re going to do a background check on me and find out I used to be a cop just like them. They’ll talk.”

She nodded, believing it. Cops were a tight bunch.

“As for your apartment…if you don’t mind me knowing where you live, I’ll go home with you and check it out. Then I’ll leave and you can rest comfortably.”

She sat quietly, common sense battling with more primitive needs. She liked this man. She liked his attention, but what did she really know about him? She’d seen couple of IDs, but she had no way of knowing if they were real.

For all she knew, this was flimflam, and she didn’t have any means of checking it out. So…did she want him to know where she lived? Heck, the way he had glommed on to her might put him squarely on the side of the wrongdoers. If there were any wrongdoers. She couldn’t even know that for certain.

All she knew was that he seemed determined to frighten her and then set himself up as her savior. When she thought of it that way, her internal alerts started to go off.

“No, thanks,” she said, standing. “Don’t follow me.”

There were other ways of dealing with all of this, but none of them involved inviting Buck Devlin any further into her life. As for going home alone, she did that every night, and she’d never been afraid until this man had suggested it.

All of a sudden she didn’t like him.

Turning on her heel, she walked to the car, leaving him sitting on the bench behind her. Something smelled fishy, and when things smelled fishy it was best to stay away.