by Mary Abshire
“So, do you have any siblings or living relatives?” she asked.
He’d taken a bite of his food and was chewing. After he’d finished, he said, “A sister.”
“You have a sister who’s still alive?” She tried to sound surprised.
Gaze on his food, he nodded.
“Have you thought about contacting her?” She took a sip of her shake.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea. She might get scared if she sees me,” he said before he finished the last bit of his food.
“What if you checked on her? Made sure she was doing okay.”
“Maybe later. I’m still trying to adjust to everything here.” He fished out fries from his bag.
“What’s her name?”
“You know enough about me. Tell me more about you.”
Crap, he’d clammed up. She presumed if she asked any more questions he wouldn’t answer them. But if she gave him some information about herself, maybe he’d be more forthcoming with her. It was worth trying.
“Well, I live at home and I have a younger sister,” she said before she sucked on her straw.
“Do you work for a living?”
“I did. I do.” She quickly corrected herself.
“What do you … do?”
“I work in an office at a help desk for people who have computer problems.”
She couldn’t be happier to have left that job. It paid well, but the silly complaints got on her nerves. In the current day and age, she believed people should know the basics of e-mail and document writing software.
“Are you married or do you have a boyfriend?” he asked before stuffing more string fries into his mouth.
“God no, not married.”
“Boyfriend?” he mumbled.
“I was actually on my way to visit him when I found you.”
The fib wasn’t too big. She had planned to go to Texas to stay with Ethan, but he wasn’t technically her boyfriend.
“Where does your boyfriend live?” he asked.
She briefly shifted her gaze. “He’s in Texas.”
“Hmm.” He ate more fries. After he swallowed, he said, “He’s a lucky man.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you’re a very kind person. You’re helping me even though you don’t believe a word I’ve said. You don’t have to lie. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t believe me either.”
“What would you believe?” she asked, surprised by his candor.
“I’d think I was either mentally unstable or some kind of criminal. Maybe both.”
She laughed. “Yeah, you’re dead right.”
“I know I am. Dead and back again.”
She chuckled again.
“So tell me about your friends and this boyfriend,” he said.
“Well, Troy is a close friend, but I already told you about him. Ethan lives in Texas. We went to college together. He moved away to help his dad start a business.”
“What about girlfriends?”
His question seemed innocent, but she still wondered why he’d asked. The guilt within her for Libby’s death had to be the reason why she was annoyed.
“Troy’s my best male and female friend. I don’t have any girlfriends,” she said.
“Why’s that?” He set the empty fry container back inside the white bag.
“Why don’t I have a girlfriend?”
“Yeah.”
“I just don’t. They’re too … complicated.” And that was the truth. Libby had been far too complex to deal with because of her drug addiction.
“You’re lucky to have friends and a boyfriend,” he said, sounding glum.
“Don’t you?”
“You’re the only friend I’ve got here. Believe me, I’m grateful. But I think you’re not being honest with me. I don’t know how to change that. I want you to feel comfortable with me and trust me. Because you’re my friend and such a nice person, I would never hurt you or steal from you. I mean that, Emily. So whatever you’re hiding, you can share with me. Who am I going to tell anyway?”
She kept shifting her attention to him. How did he know she had secrets?
“And no, I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m a happy heterosexual,” he added.
As far as conversations went, this had been one of the strangest. Then again, all of them had been.
She sighed heavily as she turned her focus back on the road. They had over five hours left to get to Pittsburgh. Her idea of trying to get him to share more information hadn’t worked the way she’d planned. She hadn’t learned much more about him. In fact, he seemed to know exactly what she’d thought about him. He was smart. She had to be smarter if she was going figure out who he really was. And she couldn’t let her guard down. One thing she knew for certain, she wouldn’t let him leave until she learned the truth.
Chapter Seven
Andrew gazed out the window while the silence extended. Static drowned the music on the radio, which he was grateful for. The pop music that had been playing had too much bass and drums. It was as if rap had blended into mainstream. Oh, the horror. Nothing compared to tunes from the seventies and eighties.
During the drive, he’d noticed other differences from when he’d died. The cars were smaller and rounder. From the vehicles that had passed them, he’d noticed most of the ladies’ hairstyles were straighter and longer, or cut short like a man’s. Men had neatly trimmed hair and no beards. Eyewear was smaller and sleeker. Styles had changed, but not too much. He liked the new fashions. Acclimating would be easy since he preferred a clean-cut image. He’d checked in the mirror at the hotel and upon close inspection, he saw the start of an overgrowth. It wasn’t much at all, but he would need to shave in the next twenty-four hours. In heaven, he’d never had to deal with shaving or trimming his locks. He never had to worry about gaining weight, stinking, getting sick, or getting hurt. He’d have to remember he was part of the living now and to be more careful. After all, he didn’t want to go back a fat, smelly, hairy man.
He glanced at Emily. She hadn’t spoken much over the last two hours. Even when they’d fueled up in Columbus, Ohio, she’d kept her words to a minimum. The conversation they’d had earlier dwindled after he’d asked about any girlfriends. When he’d peeked inside her wallet, he’d seen plenty of pictures of Emily with a female named Libby. Why had Emily told him she didn’t have any female friends? Had they got in a fight? Such an explanation would make sense. But then why would Emily clam up and stop talking? There had to be more Emily didn’t want to share. Something had happened between the two. Was Emily running because of Libby?
Without a doubt, she was hiding from someone. He’d asked if Emily had a job. She’d slipped on her response. The quick change further supported his belief she’d left Chicago and was heading somewhere to hide. Again, the questions were from who and why?
Emily had spoken about Troy and mentioned she had a boyfriend in Texas. Andrew doubted she had any problems with Troy, but the fact she’d mentioned a boyfriend piqued his curiosity. Had she made up the story because she didn’t trust Andrew? Whatever her reasons were, he decided to play along. In doing so, he hoped she would feel more comfortable with him and would trust him more. It was worth a shot. He wasn’t giving up on his mission to help her anyway he could.
“Shit,” she said, capturing his attention.
Her gaze lowered to the dashboard.
“Problem?” he asked.
She returned her attention to the road. Her shades gave her a sexy look, especially when the wind tossed strands of her hair.
“The engine light was flashing for the last ten miles,” she said.
“Was? Past tense?”
“Yeah, it’s solid now.”
He tilted sideways toward her to get a better view of the dash. A small yellow icon was illuminated. “In my experience, when the engine light is on it means there is a problem.” He returned to his seat.
“I know what the engine light means. I just hadn
’t seen one flash and then turn solid. This car is only two years old. How can there be a fucking problem?” she asked, irritation thick in her tone.
“Do you want to pull over and let me take a look at the engine?” he asked, hoping to ease her worry.
She kept shifting her gaze from her rearview mirror to the dashboard. “Crap.”
“I know a bit about cars.”
“Yeah, well you’re going to get that chance to look because I’m pressing my foot on the accelerator and our speed is dropping.”
She flipped on the hazard lights as she steered into the lane off to the side. Andrew looked out the back window. Semis and other vehicles sped past them. After the car came to a complete stop, she shifted the gear.
“Fuck!” she yelled and hit her hands on the steering wheel.
She gripped the wheel tight and tried to shake it. When it didn’t budge, she grunted. “Fucking car. This isn’t fair. Why does this always happen to me?”
Given her choice of words, he dared not say anything to anger her more. He knew women enough to keep quiet, listen, and then offer support. They usually calmed down better that way.
He pushed open the door. Trucks whizzed by and kicked up the wind. He strode to the front of the vehicle. “Pop the hood.”
After hearing a snap from underneath the hood, he lifted it. His eyes widened as he viewed the engine. It was clean. Everything was tidy and orderly. The heart of the vehicle looked different from the ones he’d worked on in his youth. He didn’t know where to begin.
The door slammed shut from the driver’s side. Emily appeared on his right.
“See anything?” she asked as she stepped around the car.
He held the lid and continued looking for a leak, or the dipstick for the oil. Nothing looked familiar to him. “This is…”
“Let me guess, you’ve never seen a hybrid before.”
“Hybrid?” He brought his brows together.
“You know, it runs on energy more than gas.”
He returned his gaze to the engine. Maybe the world had changed more than he’d thought. “I’ve never seen an electric car before.”
She turned away and kicked gravel from the road. “Damn it all. God damn it.” She shouted and clenched her fists. “It’s a lemon. He sold me a fucking lemon. Fucking asshole!”
Andrew understood her frustration. He wished he could fix the car, but he feared he might make matters worse if he touched it.
He lowered the lid and heard it snap shut. “Sorry I can’t help you with this.”
She crossed her arms and shook her head. “For once I’d like something good to go my way.”
“Can you call your insurance to have it towed to the next town?”
She scoffed. “No. I don’t have insurance.”
“Why not? I thought—”
“Because I don’t,” she snapped.
He closed his mouth and slid his hands into his front pockets. He wanted to ask why she didn’t have insurance when she’d recently purchased the vehicle. It seemed strange not to have coverage.
“We could get a ride to the next town—”
“I’m not leaving my stuff out here to get stolen,” she said in an irate tone while she ambled in front of the car.
“Well, I’m not leaving you alone.” Even though she had a gun, any kind of pervert could try to hurt her. Besides, he didn’t know if she knew how to use the weapon. He’d never be able to forgive himself if he left and something bad happened to her.
She walked to the back of the car. He followed her, wondering what she was thinking. Arms still under her breasts, she leaned her backside against the trunk. He kept a small distance from her.
“I can’t believe this,” she said. “I have the worst luck. I’m going to call Troy and I hope he beats the shit out of Raymond. That asshole needs to return my money, but I bet he won’t because he’s a dirty scumbag. I’m screwed. I’m so fucking screwed.”
Andrew kept quiet as he listened to her rant. He didn’t think the issue was a big deal, but he wasn’t dumb enough to say that to her while she was distressed. The answer to their problem seemed easy to him. All they needed to do was get the car towed to a repair shop, find out the problem, and have it fixed. Under her high level of frustration, she wasn’t thinking in simple terms.
“I think I saw a sign for Cambridge a few miles back. If we can get it there, it could be a quick fix.” He tried to sound encouraging.
“I doubt it. I bought this car under the table. I wouldn’t be surprised if it has some major problem.”
More questions filled his head. Why would she have bought the vehicle without going through the proper channels? And why did she hand over her other car too? Raymond had looked shady. The exchange of vehicles seemed fishy. She definitely was holding information back from him. Moreover, she had to be trying to hide from someone to go through such efforts to get away.
He ambled behind the car. They didn’t have many options since she didn’t want to leave her belongings. Either they waited for a ride and brought everything with them once someone came, or grabbed as much as they could and walked to the next town. Since it was her vehicle, he wasn’t going to offer his advice. He’d said enough already and didn’t want to upset her any more than she was.
“Sorry for using so much profanity,” she said. “I’m just so pissed.”
Curiosity gnawed at him to learn why she’d bought the car from a stranger. Since she sounded calmer, he decided to take a chance to see if she’d share more information.
He stopped in front of her. “Mind if I ask why you didn’t go to a reputable salesman?”
She opened her mouth to say something, but sighed instead. She veered her gaze to the interstate. “It’s a long story.”
He extended his arms out to his sides, drawing her attention back. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her lips twitched as if she wanted to smile. “Another time perhaps.”
“I could help you out better if I knew what exactly was going on.”
“What I need help with is this piece of shit car.” She lifted her leg and did a back kick to the bumper with the bottom of her boot.
Arms lowered, she walked past him. His quest to learn more had failed, but he wasn’t giving up.
A red van with a flashing signal was slowing as it approached them. Emily stopped and stared as it crawled toward them.
Andrew came to her side. “Maybe your luck has changed.”
The van came to a halt. Through the windows, Andrew saw a man sitting in the driver’s seat. A woman with hot pink hair sat across from him in the front. Another woman from the back peeked between the seats. The driver lowered his window and then stuck his head out.
“Need a lift?” he asked.
Andrew met Emily’s gaze. “Up to you. I can move all the bags.”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll get the ones inside and unlock the trunk.”
After she passed in front of him, Andrew jogged toward the driver. The Good Samaritan had arrived at the right time and with a large vehicle. Andrew hoped Emily’s mood would improve now. He stopped outside the man’s window.
“Car trouble?” the stranger asked. He had a few missing teeth, red blotches on his face, and shaggy brown hair. The stench of cigarette smoke drifted from the van. On the passenger side, the female with pink locks grinned while she stared at Andrew. Her eyes were set deep and she had dark circles underneath them.
“Yeah, we could use a ride to the next town. I think it might be Cambridge,” Andrew said.
The driver nodded. “We’re heading there too. We can drop you off in town if you’d like.”
“We’d really appreciate it. We have some bags. Would you mind if we bring them with us?”
“Sure, we’ve got plenty of room,” the driver said.
“Great. I’ll go get them,” Andrew said before he took off.
Although the couple looked questionable, he hated to turn down a free fried, especially one
that could accommodate Emily’s belongings. Cambridge was about twenty-three miles ahead according to the last sign he’d seen. Walking would’ve taken too long. The kind people in the van offered them their best chance to get help quickly to fix the Toyota.
He caught up to Emily near the back of the car. She had a strap across her chest and a few grocery bags in hand along with her purse. The trunk was open.
“I made sure we could bring your stuff. He said it was fine,” Andrew said.
“We’ll leave the food and water. I have your clothes. If you can carry my other bags…”
“No problem,” he said before he hefted them from the trunk. He set one on the ground to close the lid. “Do you have your weapon?”
“Of course. Why?”
The trunk made a thump when he closed it. “Just making sure.”
He didn’t want to alarm her, so he made no further comment. His opinion of the couple was merely that—a personal judgment. He didn’t want to influence Emily’s view. Besides the people in the van deserved the benefit of doubt since they’d offered to give them a ride. But if there was trouble, he preferred to be prepared. As for another matter, he didn’t want some stranger stumbling across the weapon in a vacated car.
Bags in hand, Andrew led the way to the passenger side of the van. The door swished as it rolled back. A younger female from the one sitting in the front smiled at him. She was skinny with brown locks and way too much makeup. Her clothes were so tight they looked like they’d been painted on her.
“You can sit up here,” she said as she backed up to the farthest point of the seat.
Andrew set the bags on the floor underneath the second bench. Then he took the plastic bags from Emily’s hands. He climbed into the van and set the items on the back seat. After he’d finished, he turned to Emily.
“Want to hand me that one?” he asked, pointing to the bag hanging near her hip.
“I’ll hold on to it.”
“Have a seat,” the young lady said to him.
He moved around the bench to sit next to her. “We really appreciate the ride.”