Annie asked the cab to drop them off a block from the trucking company Tom worked at. She recognized the logo, so they were in the right place. As they approached on foot, Gwen was tempted to wave the cab back down and leave Annie here. After all, while the police very likely had her fingerprints, they wouldn’t have a recent photograph, so she might be able to slip out of town without any problems. She was about to do just that, when Annie smiled at her. The chance passed without regret as the cab drove away.
“He’s going to be so pissed at me,” Annie said, still smiling.
“And that’s funny?”
She nodded, almost eagerly. “Yes. You’ll see why.”
The building was enormous—several blocks, if Gwen had to guess—with thirty or forty trucks with trailers at the loading docks. Several empty truck cabs were parked in a large lot nearby. Annie led them toward a car lot, pointing at a set of industrial-sized garbage bins at the far end.
“Let’s wait behind those. I don’t know how many people start when he does, so who knows how many will be around.”
“What’s the plan? Are you going to walk up to him? What if someone’s around when he shows up?”
Annie frowned. “I’ll point him out, and you can bring him over here.”
It was tight, but they found enough space behind the garbage bins to crouch, and Gwen had to breathe through her mouth to keep from gagging. The ground here was sticky with some kind of runoff and littered with bits of debris, various wrappers, and black, rotten chunks of something that stuck to her boots.
Annie was peering around the edge of the bin, and after about five minutes of eager anticipation, she started shifting from foot to foot. Gwen could tell from her profile that she was becoming anxious. What if he didn’t show? They had no way to get back to town.
“Oh, thank God,” she finally said.
“You see him?”
“His car’s pulling in now, and I think he’s alone. No one else is in the lot. Still, it would probably be safer for you to go out there and get him in case someone shows up.”
“Do you think anyone’s following him? The police, I mean?”
Annie turned frightened eyes on her. “Shit. I didn’t think of that.”
“We’ll have to risk it,” Gwen said, struggling up from her the balls of her feet. She inched around Annie and hurried to Tom’s car. By the time she reached it, he was still inside fiddling with something on the passenger-side seat, not seeing her, so she had a second to observe him. He was younger than she’d expected—younger than Annie, it seemed, and handsome. He had a cleanly shaved face and square, Buddy Holly–type glasses. He glanced up and froze, hands on the steering wheel. Gwen lifted a hand and waved, smiling and trying to seem friendly. He climbed out of his car, his face dark and threatening. Standing up, he was incredibly tall—well over six foot and scarecrow thin.
“Uh, hi,” Gwen said. Her voice almost squeaked.
“Who the fuck are you? Get the hell away from my car.”
Gwen took an involuntary step back. “Uh, I’m here with your friend. Your…childhood friend.”
“What? Who?”
“Jesus, Tom!” Annie yelled from across the lot. “She’s here with me! Get over here!”
Tom started running that way at once, brushing past Gwen without another glance, and she could barely keep up. Annie had come around the side of the trash can, and they launched themselves at each other, Tom scooping Annie into his arms and twirling her around, crushed to his chest. Annie screeched, laughing and giggling when he set her back down.
“Holy shit, Annie! I saw you on the news all day and could barely believe it. What the hell are you doing here?”
Annie’s expression sobered. “I need your help, Tom. We have to get out of town.”
At the “we,” Tom looked at Gwen, frowning. “Who the hell are you?”
Again, Gwen couldn’t help but distance herself from him and took a step back, hands up.
“This is Gwen, Tom,” Annie said. “Be nice. She helped me out today.”
Tom’s face cleared, and he stepped toward her, hand extended. “Sorry. Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” His hand enveloped hers like a blanket, and she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes.
“Hell, Annie,” he said, moving back to her and hugging her under one arm. “I still can’t believe it. I never thought I’d see you on the outside again.”
“I never thought I’d get out.”
“When did you plan this escape? You never mentioned it to me.” He seemed almost hurt.
Annie shook her head. “I couldn’t, Tom. You couldn’t be involved. I wouldn’t even be here now, but I didn’t have any other choice. You’re my last hope.”
“Well, shit, Annie. Of course I’ll help you. What do you need? Money? A place to crash? Anything.”
“Like I said, we need to get out of town. The police are after us. I don’t know how much longer we can hide.”
“Do you need my car?” he asked, digging in his pocket. “I got the keys right here. Just let me know where you leave it.”
Annie folded her hands around his fist. “No, Tom. It won’t work. They have police barricades up all over town, and more of them outside of town. We were hoping you could…well smuggle us out. In your truck.”
He reacted as if slapped, his head jerking back. He rubbed his mouth with his giant hand. “Oh.”
Annie grabbed his arms, peering up into his face. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I didn’t have any other ideas.”
He stared down at her for a long time, his expression troubled and twisting on itself. He bit his lip and shook his head. “Gee, Annie. I don’t know if I can do it.”
Annie let go of him and took a step back, her features crumpling.
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t know how we’d do it and get away with it. Everything gets checked and triple-checked before they close the door to the trailer. Something like ten guys are involved. I don’t know how I’d get you in there. I don’t think it’s possible. Someone would spot you.”
“I see.” Annie’s voice was quiet, choked.
“I’m sorry. Here—take my car keys, at least. I can always claim you stole it. Maybe you can find a way out of town after all.”
Annie didn’t take them, so Gwen held out her hand. Tom gave her a weak smile, and she grasped them. He stepped close to her and, almost under his breath, said, “Take care of her for me.”
He turned back to Annie and gave her a tight hug. “Sorry about this, champ. You need any money?”
She shook her head, wiping her eyes. “No. But thanks. We’ll be okay.”
“Call me when you get somewhere safe.”
“I will.”
He started walking back across the lot toward the main door, but Gwen was watching Annie, who was obviously trying not to cry. She was overtired and upset but seemed more heartbroken than anything. She’d pinned her hopes on this.
Gwen thought of something. “Hey, Tom?”
He spun back.
“What about the cab? Does anyone check that?”
He slapped his forehead, groaning. “Jesus! Of course!” He ran back to them, pulling out another set of keys. “The little one on here’s for the sleeper. No one checks that. Leave the keys on the driver’s seat for me once you’re in.” He frowned. “You’ll have to be careful, though. A few people are usually checking out their trucks, getting their stuff together, that kind of thing, but you should be able to sneak in if you’re careful. It’s kind of tight, but two little girls like you should fit in okay.” He looked back and forth at them. “Close the little curtain between the seats. I’ll be in and out a couple of times before we’re on the road, so stay quiet if you hear me. I’ll say your names when it’s safe. You might try to get some sleep. There should still be some snacks and water in there, too, from last week. Nothing healthy or anything—jerky, chips, that kind of thing. Help yourself.”
“You’re a lifesaver, To
m,” Annie said, hugging him.
“Wait till we get somewhere before you thank me. You could still be caught.”
“Well, thanks for trying, anyway, no matter what happens.”
“Jesus!” Tom said, after glancing at his watch. “I gotta go. My boss is gonna have a conniption fit already.”
“How will we know what truck it is?” Gwen asked.
He laughed. “Annie knows. See you soon.”
Chapter Eight
They hid behind a little bush near the side of the building where the truck cabs were parked. To Gwen, they were identical—large, hulking machines in uniform whites or blacks.
“Which one is it?”
“We have to check the driver’s door,” Annie whispered.
That was easier said than done. As Tom had predicted, several men were climbing in and out of their cabs, doing inspections or dropping off bags of their belongings. She and Annie had to run, first from the bush to the front of the farthest truck, then from that one to the next and the next. At each one, Annie would pause, crane her head around the driver’s side, then gesture for them to keep going. It was relatively dark outside, but a couple of times Gwen was certain a man inside his truck had seen them. He could have easily been spotted them if he’d glanced outside.
“It’s this one,” Annie finally said.
“How can you tell?”
“You’ll see. But wait a sec—there’s a guy inside the one next to this.”
They were sitting on the balls of their feet as they waited, and the long day was starting to make Gwen quake with fatigue. Finally, Annie turned to her, put a finger on her lips, and gestured for her to follow. They inched around between the two trucks, still stooped, and Annie stopped by the door to the sleeper and pointed. There, under the little American flag on the driver’s door, was a tiny rainbow flag. Gwen grinned back at her and waited for Annie to open the little sleeper door. Annie slid inside a moment later, and Gwen followed, closing the door behind her. She waited a few seconds, catching her breath, and listened, ear pressed to the door. If anyone saw her feet slipping inside, they would probably call out, but she heard no cries of alarm. She scooted back a little, engaged the lock, and then put her back to the door.
Annie had already partially closed the accordion-style plastic curtain between the seats and the bed, leaving it cracked open for the light. The truck sat directly under a streetlight, and it was surprisingly bright with the light reflecting off the windscreen. Annie was sitting with her knees tucked up, almost under her chin, bent awkwardly in half to give Gwen enough room to get in. They had plenty of room to sit upright, but the bed itself was short and narrow, not even as wide or long as a twin. Gwen could hardly picture Tom sleeping in here.
After double-checking that the door behind her was latched and locked, she mimicked Annie’s pose, and the two of them sat facing each other. Gwen immediately felt cramped. With so little room, the toes of her boots touched Annie’s.
“Jesus,” Gwen said. “How the hell does he fit back here?”
“Can’t imagine. He must have to bend in half.”
A little shelf on the right had a footlocker. Gwen slipped the strap of her tool bag off her shoulder and stuffed it into a space next to it. Tom had mentioned snacks, so she opened the locker to peek inside.
“Chips, jerky, some bottled water. Want something?”
Annie shook her head, and Gwen pulled out some water. It was fairly cool, despite sitting in here for God knew how long, and she took a long pull before offering it to Annie.
“Thanks.”
“Well, this is cozy,” Gwen said.
“That’s one word for it. I was thinking it was more like a coffin.”
“Do you want to try to sleep? Who knows how long this’ll take. I’m beat.”
“How? I can barely breathe, let alone sleep.”
Gwen hesitated. “We could lie down. It might be more comfortable that way, anyway.”
“You mean next to each other?”
Gwen laughed. “Of course. What else?”
Annie’s face tightened, her expression anxious, and Gwen waved a hand dismissively. “Sorry. It was just a thought.”
Annie shook her head. “No. You’re right. I don’t think I can sleep, but lying down might be nice. I’d love to get out of these boots, too. They’re a little tight.”
Gwen wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to take off their boots—it would make it harder to run if they had to, but it would be more comfortable. Lying down also presented another problem: her gun. It was still in her coat pocket and would be incredibly uncomfortable to lie on. After a moment’s hesitation, she decided to risk it and shucked off her boots and jacket, cramming them on top of her tool bag. She set Annie’s tiny ones next to hers when she handed them to her. Annie was still clutching her purse, but Gwen didn’t mention it.
“There’s a blanket,” Annie said, pointing.
The mattress was already covered in a thin sheet, and a pillow lay on Annie’s end of the bed. Gwen grabbed the blanket, and the two of them maneuvered awkwardly until they were lying down, facing each other. Annie had pushed herself as far away from her as possible, her back against the curtain that hung between the bed and the seats, but they were barely a few inches apart. Annie still seemed tense, rigid, clasping the purse next to her chest.
“Now, this is cozy,” Gwen said, trying to ease the tension.
Annie gave her a weak smile, not meeting her eyes.
“Do you want the blanket?”
Annie nodded, still looking away.
Gwen sat up a little and flapped the folded blanket a few times to release it, tucking it down around their legs before lying down and settling it over them. It was a heavy flannel, and she felt almost instantly warmer. It was surprisingly cold in here.
“Better?”
Annie nodded, her eyes meeting hers briefly. “Better.”
Gwen took the opportunity to examine Annie up close. She knew Annie could see her staring at her, but she continued anyway. Here, inches away, Gwen could see the beginnings of tiny lines at the corners of her eyes and around her mouth. She was older than Gwen had first assumed—maybe early to mid-thirties instead of in her twenties. She had one of those young faces. Being small like she was added to her youthfulness. Now, without makeup and with her hair still loose and wild, she could still have passed for almost any age between eighteen and forty.
Annie finally met her eyes, her expression almost angry. “What are you staring at?”
“You.”
Annie flushed and opened her mouth a few times, fish-like, clearly at a loss for a reply.
Gwen laughed. “Can’t I look at a pretty woman?”
“N-no!” Annie sputtered.
Gwen couldn’t help but goad her. “Why not?”
“Because I said so!”
“Ah, I see.” Gwen closed her eyes. “Is this better?”
“Yes,” she said, but she sounded uncertain.
They were quiet long enough that Gwen found herself starting to drift off. She was facing the gap between the curtains, so the light outside was full on her face, but she was so tired it didn’t bother her. It would likely be a long time before she was in a bed again—hours, at least, so a little catnap might be just the thing.
“Gwen?”
She opened her eyes. Annie had inched a little closer, and her body had lost some of its tension.
“Hmmm?”
“I’m sorry. I’m not used to—”
“It’s okay. No need to apologize. I was teasing you.”
“I know. I’m sorry I overreacted.”
Gwen nodded and closed her eyes again, tugged toward sleep almost at once.
“Gwen?”
Annie looked, if possible, even closer than before. Gwen blinked a few times, stretched, and rubbed her face, trying to focus and wake up.
“Yes?”
“Where were you going today? When you picked me up? I mean, where were you headed?”
<
br /> Gwen saw no reason to lie. “Los Angeles.”
“Why?”
“A client fired me this morning.”
“Oh. You were working here in Texas?”
“Sort of. The main office is in California, but I have to travel all the time. I was in Austin for a few months helping out.”
“Is that where you’re from? California?”
Gwen shook her head. “Colorado, originally. I still sort of live there, sometimes.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“It is.”
“So you were fired from a job, but not fired altogether.”
“Exactly. But my boss might fire me altogether when I get back to LA. This isn’t my first fuckup.”
“Sorry.”
Gwen shrugged. “It’s okay. It might be a good thing. I’ve been in this line of work too long. Starting to lose my edge.”
“As a car thief,” Annie said.
Gwen laughed. “No—that’s incidental.” She paused, realizing once again that she didn’t need to lie. “Stealing cars isn’t really part of the job. Officially, anyway. I’m a PI.”
“Oh!” Annie said, eyebrows shooting up.
“Not what you expected?”
“No, but it makes sense, now.”
They were quiet for a while, and once again, Gwen didn’t bother to fight her sleepiness, her eyes dropping closed almost of their own accord. She heard Annie scooting around a little, and the blanket was twitched off her, so she made herself open her eyes. Annie had gotten up on her elbow.
“Something wrong?”
“A handle back here, for the curtain—it’s poking my back.”
Gwen sat up. The curtain had two plastic handles, one for each side. She reached behind Annie to try to move it a little, but it was firmly attached.
“You’ll have to turn around,” she said.
“What?”
“Like spoons,” Gwen responded, grinning.
Annie shook her head. “No—that’s okay. Maybe I can put something over the handle—pad it, or something.”
“Suit yourself.”
Gwen lay down and closed her eyes again. Annie scooched closer, their legs almost flush, and then she sighed, and Gwen felt her sit up entirely. She opened her eyes and watched Annie put her purse on top of their other belongings before she turned, twisted around, and lay down, moving back into Gwen. Gwen kept her arm up on her side a few seconds longer before letting it drop down over Annie, who tensed and then relaxed.
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