Read Online Final Masquerade by Cindy Davis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cindy Davis
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getting off the highway for a few hours."
"So, you finally acknowledge their existence?"
"I don't know what to think, but I also don't want to take any chances—with our safety or that of my new truck.” Chris down shifted again and steered the semi down the off-ramp. The strident sound of the jake brake echoed in the chamber.
At the bottom, he squinted out the windshield at the road crossing before them. “I've never been here before. Let's try this way.” He swung the big wheel to the right.
In the small village whose name Paige didn't know, Chris pulled into the unlit lot of a repair garage. The yard held mostly cars awaiting service. Near the back were two box trucks. He turned into the lot and swung behind the building. “I'll drop the trailer here between those two and unhitch."
"Sounds like a good plan, but I still think your most logical move would be to drop me off. They won't do anything to you or the truck once I'm gone. All you have to do is tell them I ran off without saying where I was going."
He'd started to open his door, but turned back. “And what then, pray tell, will you do?"
"The same thing I'll do somewhere in Virginia, or wherever the hell you said you were headed. I'll get out and find another means of transport."
"And where are you going? Have you thought about that?"
"I've done nothing but think about that. And the answer is, I don't know, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. If you aren't working for them—don't look at me like that. You might be one of them. But if you aren't, when they catch up to you and torture you, you won't have anything to tell them."
He laid his lighter on the dash. Ashes dropped from the tip of his cigarette. “Are you planning to run forever? That's what it'll be, you know.” He groped his hand between his crotch and the seat, searching for burning embers.
"What do you suggest I do, go back and face them?"
"Why not go to the authorities?"
"You don't know these people. They have people on their payroll everywhere. And I mean everywhere . They even had the coat check lady at the restaurant where I used to have lunch with my friends."
"Girl or boy friends?"
Her reply was a hostile snort.
"Sounds like we're talking the mob, here."
When she didn't reply, he shook his head and continued opening his door. “I'll unhitch the trailer and we'll talk about this in a few minutes. Why don't you brew us some coffee. And, I think there are some cookies or something in the cabinet. Relax, it'll be all right."
"Where have I heard that before?” she muttered to the closed door.
As soon as he disappeared between the tractor and trailer, she collected her baggage from the cabinet, and moved the handle of the door as slowly as she could, until it snicked open. She stepped onto the dimly lit parking lot noting the slight gray tinge of color in the eastern sky.
Not knowing which way to go, like a rat making its way through a maze, Paige started first left, then right, finally hustling across the pavement and into the shadows of some overgrown shrubbery at the boundary to the property. She let out the breath she'd been holding and surveyed the area. Dim streetlights illuminated a span of about two and a half blocks. The street was two lanes with a few cars parked along both sides. Identical single-family row houses on the left indicated this had once been a factory community, complete with tract housing. A few had newly added garages tucked between house and property line. Across the street sat older two-story stuccoed buildings that she assumed were small one-owner businesses, though she couldn't read signs from where she stood.
She strained her eyes to see into the gloom, searching for open doors, windows, or alleyways, which might provide a temporary haven.
"Tracy. Where the hell are you?” Chris called in a loud whisper from the other side of the parking lot.
Paige worked her way into the shrubbery, turning the suitcase and handbag sideways, the branches
"So, you finally acknowledge their existence?"
"I don't know what to think, but I also don't want to take any chances—with our safety or that of my new truck.” Chris down shifted again and steered the semi down the off-ramp. The strident sound of the jake brake echoed in the chamber.
At the bottom, he squinted out the windshield at the road crossing before them. “I've never been here before. Let's try this way.” He swung the big wheel to the right.
In the small village whose name Paige didn't know, Chris pulled into the unlit lot of a repair garage. The yard held mostly cars awaiting service. Near the back were two box trucks. He turned into the lot and swung behind the building. “I'll drop the trailer here between those two and unhitch."
"Sounds like a good plan, but I still think your most logical move would be to drop me off. They won't do anything to you or the truck once I'm gone. All you have to do is tell them I ran off without saying where I was going."
He'd started to open his door, but turned back. “And what then, pray tell, will you do?"
"The same thing I'll do somewhere in Virginia, or wherever the hell you said you were headed. I'll get out and find another means of transport."
"And where are you going? Have you thought about that?"
"I've done nothing but think about that. And the answer is, I don't know, and even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. If you aren't working for them—don't look at me like that. You might be one of them. But if you aren't, when they catch up to you and torture you, you won't have anything to tell them."
He laid his lighter on the dash. Ashes dropped from the tip of his cigarette. “Are you planning to run forever? That's what it'll be, you know.” He groped his hand between his crotch and the seat, searching for burning embers.
"What do you suggest I do, go back and face them?"
"Why not go to the authorities?"
"You don't know these people. They have people on their payroll everywhere. And I mean everywhere . They even had the coat check lady at the restaurant where I used to have lunch with my friends."
"Girl or boy friends?"
Her reply was a hostile snort.
"Sounds like we're talking the mob, here."
When she didn't reply, he shook his head and continued opening his door. “I'll unhitch the trailer and we'll talk about this in a few minutes. Why don't you brew us some coffee. And, I think there are some cookies or something in the cabinet. Relax, it'll be all right."
"Where have I heard that before?” she muttered to the closed door.
As soon as he disappeared between the tractor and trailer, she collected her baggage from the cabinet, and moved the handle of the door as slowly as she could, until it snicked open. She stepped onto the dimly lit parking lot noting the slight gray tinge of color in the eastern sky.
Not knowing which way to go, like a rat making its way through a maze, Paige started first left, then right, finally hustling across the pavement and into the shadows of some overgrown shrubbery at the boundary to the property. She let out the breath she'd been holding and surveyed the area. Dim streetlights illuminated a span of about two and a half blocks. The street was two lanes with a few cars parked along both sides. Identical single-family row houses on the left indicated this had once been a factory community, complete with tract housing. A few had newly added garages tucked between house and property line. Across the street sat older two-story stuccoed buildings that she assumed were small one-owner businesses, though she couldn't read signs from where she stood.
She strained her eyes to see into the gloom, searching for open doors, windows, or alleyways, which might provide a temporary haven.
"Tracy. Where the hell are you?” Chris called in a loud whisper from the other side of the parking lot.
Paige worked her way into the shrubbery, turning the suitcase and handbag sideways, the branches
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