by C L Rowell
“Let’s pull over closer to the grass and let Butch stretch his legs before we hit the road.”
He grinned, “Way ahead of you.”
He clipped Butch’s leash to his harness and walked him. Afterwards, we took turns feeding him jerky and offering him water, polishing off the donuts and soda as we did. The sugary rush gave me a short boost of energy, but it didn’t last long after we took off again. Between the hypnotic effect of the road unfolding in front of us and my early wakeup time the morning before, I fell asleep before we made it very far into Alabama. I felt the car slow again an undetermined amount of time later and sat up to peer around through bleary eyes, but I had no clue where we were. Daylight was just starting to hint at the eastern horizon and all I could see were buildings and lights around us.
“Where are we?”
“Birmingham.” His eyelids hung at half-mast and his hair stood on end like he’d spent hours scrubbing his fingers through it. “I pushed as far as I dared but I’ve got to get some rest.”
“Want me to take over?”
“Nah, you need your sleep, too. I found a place to stop.”
I looked up at the sign as we turned in. “Motel 6?”
“It was the first place I saw after my head started drooping. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get a room with two beds.”
I felt my lips curve and I dropped my head, feeling shy. “Thanks.”
Fifteen minutes later, we were parked in front of room 121. I had my bags, he had his, and after another quick potty break for Butch we were stumbling inside. Butch explored the new quarters as I collapsed onto the bed closest to the door. Moments later, he joined me. I lay sprawled on my back blinking at the ceiling with Butch’s body heat a familiar comfort at my side. Despite the sleep I’d snatched in the car, my eyes felt like they had weights on them, pulling my upper lashes down. Every blink was slower than the last and my lids were closed more than they were open.
“You’d be more comfortable in night clothes.” I glanced over and Todd had a pair of pajama bottoms and a bottle of what looked like all-in-one shampoo and body wash for men in his hand as he headed toward the bathroom. “I’m getting a shower before I pass out—unless you want to go first?”
I shook my head. “Go ahead. After all that driving, you deserve a shower before sleep. No guarantees that I’ll be awake when you get out, though. I’m still exhausted.”
After the bathroom door closed behind him, I forced myself upright on the edge of the bed and reached for my bag. I knew he was right, and I’d sleep better in night clothes, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to comply. After all, we were sharing a room and my little pink baby doll kami and shorts didn’t leave a lot to the imagination. If he smiled at me and my nipples hardened it would be a close call as to who would notice sooner. What if it made things awkward? I shrugged it off, hurriedly changed, and crawled under the covers, too exhausted to worry about it.
10
Todd
∞∞∞
She’d assured me she would be asleep when I came out and she was true to her word. She lay sprawled across the mattress, covered except for her head and one bare foot. Her clothing was piled on the chair by the table and the zipper on her carryon gaped open, suggesting that she’d taken my advice and changed clothes. Refusing to contemplate what she might be wearing beneath those covers—consciously, at least—I slid beneath the blankets of the second bed, turned off the lamp, and rolled over as Butch kept watch at her side.
The scent of fresh-brewed coffee woke me an undetermined amount of time later. Light pierced the dimness of the room from around the edges of the closed curtains and I could see the flickering of the television in my peripheral vision. I raised up on one elbow and spotted her sitting in front of the TV. The closed captioning was on and doing a predictably bad job at following along with the show she was watching. Butch was curled at the foot of my bed with his nose tucked beneath a pilfered pillow. The bed creaked as I shifted, alerting her to my conscious state, and she craned her neck to look at me through long damp waves of brown.
“Did the TV wake you up?”
I shook my head, “I think it was the smell of the coffee.”
“Oops,” she bit her lip, badly hiding a grin. “My bad. I was hungry and didn’t know how much longer you’d sleep and there’s a Denny’s right next door. You don’t seem like the vegan type, so I took a chance and ordered us both the Grand Slam breakfast and coffee. I got plenty of cream and sugar, too—you know, in case you’re like me and like a little coffee with your cream and sugar.” She pointed to the table at a bag I’d totally missed. “Your food’s in the bag and the cup beside it is yours.”
She was already dressed, wearing a pair of thin yoga pants and a Garfield t-shirt, with pink and white Nike’s on her feet. I tried to ignore the stab of disappointment that jabbed me when I realized I’d slept through the chance to see her in her pajamas.
“You didn’t have to get me food.” I plodded over to the table and dragged the other chair over in front of the Denny’s bag. Dropping into it, I popped the top off the coffee cup and took a sip. “Ooohhh, that hits the spot.”
“Of course, I did. You’d do the same for me. Not to mention, I would have felt so bad if I’d walked back in just as you woke up and didn’t bring anything for you to eat.”
“I’m sure I would have survived.” I lifted the takeout platter out of the bag and removed the cover. The delicious aroma of bacon slapped me across the face and drool pooled in my mouth. My stomach roared and I grinned, unashamed, glancing over at her. “Thanks, though.”
The niceties taken care of, I dug in, ignoring the drooling dog at my feet after she assured me he’d been fed. An embarrassingly short time later, all that was left on the plastic platter was a few smears of syrup, a dab of bacon grease, and a dribble of egg yolk. I rubbed my pleasantly full belly and drained the last lukewarm swallow from my Styrofoam cup.
“Did you get enough?”
“Oh, yeah,” I nodded as I snagged a clean pair of pants and a shirt from my bag and headed for the bathroom to change. “That definitely hit the spot. Give me a minute or two and we’ll head out again.”
“I thought you wanted to talk about what we might be facing first?”
I hesitated mid-step and nodded,” Thanks for reminding me. I would have forgotten until after we were on the road again.”
When I got back, I settled at the table and she dragged her chair over to join me. It became obvious quite quickly that neither of us knew what to say or where to begin. The silence stretched to the breaking point and I was nearly ready to say anything just to hear a sound when she spoke.
“I tried to think of something I hadn’t mentioned, but I’m pretty sure I told you everything I know.” She ticked off on her fingers as she went along, “He left Norway ahead of schedule and showed up at my house without calling first. He looked like he’d gone months without food and was in fear for his life. He insisted I had to get this package to this address as soon as I could…and now he’s dead.”
Her voice broke on the last word and tears welled up in her eyes. Without thinking twice, I reached out and tugged her across the space separating us and into my arms. I expected her to put up a struggle, but she didn’t. Instead, she clung to my shoulders and sobbed against my neck.
“Shh,” I awkwardly alternated between patting and rubbing her back. “There was nothing more you could have done—”
“Yes, there was. I could have taken the envelope to DC sooner. If I had, maybe he wouldn’t have died.”
“And maybe he would have died anyway, no matter what you did. The article said his brakes appeared to have failed as there were no skid marks at the scene. It could have been a simple malfunction.”
“We’ll never know, will we?”
I tucked wispy strands of coconut scented hair behind her ears. “You can’t keep blaming yourself for something that wasn’t your fault. You told me, yourself—he said he knew he was going to die.
Right?”
She nodded, sniffling, “Yeah.”
I handed her a napkin and she wiped her cheeks and blew her nose.
“It sounds to me like you should be proud of him. He knew he’d most likely die but he chose to stick to his path anyway. He died fighting the good fight, trying to save lives.”
“And I dropped the ball.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Well, I sure as hell didn’t deliver the package, did I?” Anger sparked in her fiery gaze.
I leaned in and pressed my lips to her forehead. “Did he give you a timeframe?”
“N-no—but he sounded desperate.”
“And how long has it been?” I slid my nose along hers, up and down, in a gentle caress, hoping for a glimmer of a smile in return.
“Not quite three weeks.”
“Oh, gee—three whole weeks?” I kept my voice light. “That’s barely a blip on the timeline—”
“Don’t try to play it off, Todd.” She hid her face against my neck, “I had two weeks to get it done before he died. Maybe, if I’d left immediately after he gave it to me, he might have lived.”
“And, like I said, maybe his brakes would have failed anyway.”
“If they really did. I bet someone tampered with them, making sure they’d fail.”
“Did you hear anything different?”
She sighed and sat up. “I asked DeAna to call Colorado and ask what happened. They said there was no signs that he even applied the brakes, not even a trail of brake fluid on the asphalt near where he went over. They implied that he might have fallen asleep at the wheel and went over the edge without even waking up.”
“It could happen.” I rubbed her back and squeezed her shoulders. “No one is perfect—not even me.”
I hoped she’d smile but she didn’t…not even a tiny one. Instead, she raised her head and captured my eyes with hers. “You knew him—do you believe it was an accident? Do you believe my brother was the type to fall asleep and drive off a cliff?”
My stomach dropped as I contemplated her words. I thought about it. Did I? I shook my head, “No.”
She didn’t look surprised by my response. Instead, she blew out a breath and nodded, resolute. “Let’s get this package to its intended recipient, then. It’s the least I can do for him. It’s what he wanted, what he asked me to do.”
We gathered our possessions and the three of us climbed back into the Accord to complete the rest of the trip. My stomach knotted as I contemplated what lay ahead. I hoped we wouldn’t die, too.
11
Millie
∞∞∞
We agreed to stop in Roanoke later that evening so we could arrive in the city well rested and ready for anything. It didn’t help me much, though. I doubt I got more than a couple hours of sleep even though it wasn’t that late when we stopped. The closer we got to our destination, the more nervous and on edge I became. My fear transferred to Butch and he became like a clinging vine. He knew something was up. I stroked his head and fondled his silky ears in an effort to soothe him.
“You can’t come with me, boy. You’ll just draw attention. You’re gonna have to wait in the car with Todd. I’ll be fine.”
“Wait with Todd?” Todd’s eyes left the road to lock on me. “You’re severely mistaken if you think I’m waiting in the car while you walk into what could be a dangerous situation alone. I’m going with you.”
I grabbed the wheel, “Watch the road before you hit someone. It isn’t up for debate. I have to do this alone.”
He returned his eyes to the highway but insisted, “I’m going with you.”
“You can’t.”
“The hell I can’t! Give me one good reason why not.”
“Miles insisted it had to be me. He said the guy would run if a government lackey,” I used air quotes, “showed up.”
“I’m no one’s lackey. I’m retired, remember?”
I growled at him. “I didn’t say you were but look at yourself. Your hair, your demeanor, the way you move and stand, all screams soldier.”
“The way I move?” His eyes bounced from the road to me and back. “The hell you say! The way I move doesn’t scream military—it fucking screams cripple.”
“No, it—”
“Don’t sugarcoat it for me, Millie. I’m a big boy and I can handle the truth. The truth is that I have a bit of a limp—and if a bad enough low-pressure system comes in, I have been known to limp with a fucking cane.”
“It’s not that bad—”
“It’s bad enough. If you want to get technical about it, the only thing that says military about me is my motherfucking haircut and tattoos and I doubt he’ll look that close!”
“And your attitude—don’t forget your attitude.” I let my fascinated gaze roam his fit form, visualizing the taut skin, muscles and artwork that lay beneath his long-sleeved cotton t-shirt.
“My attitude?” He sent me a skeptical look, almost catching me surreptitiously checking him out.
“Yes.”
“What’s wrong with my attitude?”
“It screams cocky self-important Marine asshole. Your bearing backs it up, too.” And it was hot as fuck…but I kept that part to myself.
“Gee, thanks.”
I bared my teeth at him in an obviously fake facsimile of a grin, “Well, you said not to sugarcoat it.”
“And I do appreciate your effort, too—I do—but if you think either Butch or I are letting you go into potential danger alone—”
“Todd—”
“No!” He shook his head back and forth with enough force to make his flattop wave in the generated breeze. “I’ll wear a hat. I’ll slouch. I’ll chew a wad of gum and blow pink fucking bubbles if I have to. I’ll do whatever it takes, but you aren’t going in that building alone.”
“Fine, but if he runs…”
“He won’t run.”
“Your lips to God’s ears.” I folded my arms and slid down in my seat. “He’d better not.”
Finding close available parking was a nightmare but we did it. We lucked out and found a parking garage with an open spot a couple blocks away. We put our matching baseball caps and sunglasses on before we stepped foot out of the car. My hands had a faint nervous tremor, but I hid it by linking them around his arm. We were as ready as we’d ever be.
I scanned the area as we approached the building. “I don’t see anyone suspicious…”
“What about those shiny black vans with the super-dark tinted windows on the other side of the street? They practically scream surveillance and up to no good.”
“Shit.” I sighed. “Yeah, those are pretty suspicious, aren’t they?”
“So, now what?”
“Just keep walking. I think I see a Starbuck’s sign up ahead.”
“This is a hell of a time for a coffee break—”
“Just do it. I have an idea.” I tugged surreptitiously on his arm to keep him moving down the sidewalk. My shoulders tensed. I felt like I had a huge target painted on my back with every step and wondered if it showed. Finally, after what felt like forever but was only a few minutes, we ducked inside the half-full coffee shop and I was able to take a full breath. “Grab a table and I’ll get us drinks after I pop in the ladies’ room.”
“Don’t try anything stupid like sneaking off and leaving us behind.”
“As if,” I threw my head back and laughed like that was the funniest thing I’d ever heard. I kept it up as I stepped inside the lavatory, but once inside I fell silent with a quickness only fake gaiety would allow.
A sense of urgency filled me. Time was of the essence. I didn’t want to draw attention by hanging out in there too long, but I needed the privacy for what I had to do. Luckily it was a one-in-one-out bathroom and I was able to lock the door behind me for security. I pulled out my phone and scrolled to a number I’d had DeAna procure for me and had placed in my contacts the day before while we were at the hotel in Roanoke just in case. I was glad I did, too.
It rang five times and I was almost ready to give up and hang up when he finally answered.
“Hello?”
I’d been expecting a female voice, perhaps a receptionist or secretary. Thrown, I hesitated. Then, “Umm, Mr. Donaldson? Harvey Donaldson?”
“Yes,” he snapped, “Were you expecting someone else? Who is this? I’m a busy man.”
“I understand that, Mr. Donaldson, and I apologize for distracting you from your work.” I winced, sidestepping telling him my name. “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t have an excellent reason for doing so.”
“I’m waiting.” His tone was extremely condescending, and I stuck out my tongue at my reflection as I silently mimicked him.
Nervous, I babbled into the phone in one long stream of consciousness dump, “Miles Masterson told me to get in touch with you. He said he spoke with you and you’d be expecting my call. He also said to tell you he asked me to deliver something to you and that it pertains to the issue the two of you discussed.”
“And you are?”
I dug in my heels, “If you’re really Harvey Donaldson then you should already know who I am just from what I said.”
“Hmm…yes. I was under the impression that you’d be coming to me in person. Why are you calling? Phones can be tapped, you know.”
“I’m calling because you have three shiny black vans with blacked-out windows sitting across the street from your building and I’m concerned since they might be occupied by some of the bad guys I was warned to watch out for.”
“I see.” I heard a noise that sounded like blinds rattling and figured he was looking out the windows. “Yes, that could be a problem, if true.”
“Can you think of any other reason for those vans to be there? Yours is the only property on the whole block with a door fronting the street.”
“No, no, I have no doubt you are indeed correct in your assumption, young lady.”