The woman was another matter. He could tell what kind of woman she was right off: fat and fussy. She was wearing a stupid little Uncle Sam hat that didn't fit. The store manager probably made her wear it, but he still hated it. She should have some pride. He hated her. She didn't even care he'd come in. She was supposed to care.
Hop to it. A little service here.
With that thought, the heat caught up with him. Just exploded his head like a potato too long in the fire. This time it wasn't funny. This time he felt sick. The lights were too bright. Too much pain inside his head. Hand out, he found the door and pushed it hard, his other hand held tight to his temple.
The heat smacked him good when he walked out of the white light and frigid air of the store and back into the desert night. He pressed his temple harder as he walked to the car and got in.
He checked himself in the rearview mirror. His hair was a mess. He'd feel better if he looked better. Get the comb. He leaned over to the glove compartment thinking his head would split wide open, and laced his hands around the first thing he found. It was cool and it was metal and he held it to his head.
No comb. He needed a comb. Maybe that damn clerk would notice the second time he walked into her store and sell him some smokes and a comb. Then he'd feel better.
He looked through the window of that Circle K again. She was still making coffee. Ignoring him. He needed a cigarette bad, he needed a comb, and now he needed some aspirin. He hurt so bad he could cry, and she was just standing there making coffee.
Inside again he turned right, and walked up to the woman who was putting the big lid on top of the huge steel urn that would brew coffee for whoever it was that might come to a godforsaken place like this in the middle of the night. He walked right up to her, and she felt him coming because she turned around. Her eyes were hazel and real clear and he saw himself in those eyes, reflected back the way people saw him.
Hot damn, he was a good lookin' cowboy.
And when he smiled at his reflection, she smiled right back. She didn't have a clue. They never did.
READ ALL OF REBECCA’S THRILLERS!
HOSTILE WITNESS (#1)
SILENT WITNESS (#2)
PRIVILEGED WITNESS (#3)
EXPERT WITNESS (#4)
EYEWITNESS (#5)
BEFORE HER EYES
THE MENTOR
CHARACTER WITNESS
BEYOND MALICE
KEEPING COUNSEL
Visit Rebecca at: http://www.rebeccaforster.com
Eyewitness (Thriller/Legal Thriller - #5 The Witness Series) (The Witness Series #5) Page 32