Page 5 of Rawhide and Ransom

She surveyed her surroundings, noting that the roll-top door was caved in a little. It was as if the truck had backed into something big and unforgiving. Sunlight poured through the bottom and sides where the door wasn’t shut all the way, dimly lighting the interior of the vehicle.

The linens smelled awful and were probably infested with germs. She took shallow breaths as she contemplated her next move. Her gaze landed on a rack of supplies mounted against the wall.

It took several attempts before she succeeded in standing. She kept her feet spread apart and her hands pressed against the side of the moving truck for leverage as she inched her way to the supply rack.

It contained a stack of empty laundry bags, a pad of carbon-copy laundry invoices, and —miracle of miracles — a laundry worker’s uniform. Annalee snatched it up and dropped back to the floor with it, shrugging out of her hospital gown to pull on the uniform. She was still barefoot, but it was progress.

She glanced around again and her gaze landed on a pair of rubber galoshes by the door that she hadn’t noticed before. She crawled over to them. It felt gross pushing her bare feet into them, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Even though her borrowed outfit was humble, there was a certain dignity in being clothed again. Sadly, it didn’t change the fact that she was still penniless, thirsty, and on the run.

The truck slowed and swung a hard right, sending Annalee sprawling across the dirty linens. “Oh, for pity’s sake,” she groaned, pushing herself upright again. She hated how weak she felt.

The brakes squealed beneath her as the truck rolled to a stop. She dove beneath the linens again, pulling her discarded hospital gown over her borrowed galoshes.

Footsteps made their way to the back of the truck, and there was a clanking sound as someone unlocked it. Then the door rolled open, blasting the interior of the truck with sunlight.

Annalee’s ears picked up on a drone of voices, one male and one female.

“I don’t know what they expect us to do,” the woman whined. “We’re not staffed to keep an entire hospital in clean linens.”

“You’ll need to take that up with H.R.” The man didn’t sound too sympathetic. “I’m just the delivery guy.”

Annalee heard the roll of metal wheels outside the truck.

“Just put everything in the cart.” The woman still didn’t sound too happy about the size of the laundry order.

The man gave an unsympathetic bark of laughter. “Nice try, but I have some phone calls to catch up on. Like I said, I’m just the delivery guy.”

Annalee heard his footsteps move back around the truck and felt the movement as he leaped back inside the cab. He slammed the door shut behind him.

The woman started muttering furiously beneath her breath. “What a useless piece of?—”

Annalee plugged her ears with her fingers to take the place of a bleeper button. Then things grew abruptly quiet again. She pushed aside the soiled sheet covering her head and discovered that nobody was standing behind the truck any longer.

An idea bloomed in her mind, one that might actually stand a chance of getting her out of this mess. Or at least out of the truck.

She wormed out from beneath the linens covering her and crawled toward the sunlight. It was so bright she had to squint as she shimmied her legs over the edge of the back of the truck. She rolled to her belly and slid ever so slowly to the ground. Despite how careful she was being, she would’ve fallen if she hadn’t had the bumper to hold on to.

A squeak of alarm alerted her to the fact that the grumbling woman had returned.

Annalee pasted on her best smile and swung her head around. Desperate times called for desperate measures. She found herself facing a scowling woman in her mid-to-late thirties with tightly braided black hair and a tattoo of a butterfly on her wrist.

Annalee allowed her gaze to rest admiringly on the butterfly. “Nice ink.”

“Who are you?” the woman shot back, sounding suspicious.

“Annie.” It was close enough to her real name. She plowed onward, keeping the details vague. “They called me in on my sick day.”

“Called you in from where?”

“From the other location.” Annalee employed aduhvoice, hoping like crazy that the dry cleaning company had more than one location. “They said something about a mechanical failure at the hospital, and that we would be expected to pick up the slack.” She reached for a pile of linens and tossed them into the cart, while keeping a firm grip on the tailgate.

“You know what?” The woman threw her hands into the air. “I honestly don’t care if you fell off a UFO. I need all the help I can get today.” She anchored herself beside Annalee and started shoveling linens into the cart resting between them.

She introduced herself as Maggie and kept up a steady stream of complaints about the company she worked for, making it easy for Annalee to simply listen and nod.

“Did they really call you in on a sick day?” Maggie finally asked, sounding even more incensed.

Annalee nodded glumly. “Don’t worry. I’m not contagious. It’s, um…” She lowered her voice, casting a furtive look toward the front of the truck. “It’s that time of month,” she lied, “if you know what I mean.”

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