Brooke tipped her seat back and I worked to put the roof up on the Mustang. We’d done this so many times now I was pretty sure I could do it in my sleep. When I let myself back into the passenger seat, Brooke had her eyes closed and her sunglasses down.
‘I’m worried about you,’ I said softly, reaching over to take her hand.
This was the first long journey Brooke had made since she’d driven to Kansas City, and I wondered if she had actually fully recovered from everything that had happened. I had a suspicion she hadn’t, but I didn’t know how to bring it up without pissing her off. She wanted to feel in control, and, God knew, I understood that, so I wasn’t about to take that control away from her by suggesting she clearly wasn’t okay at all.
‘Let me nap for a couple minutes?’ she asked. ‘If I still feel crummy after that, you can drive.’
‘Okay.’ I reached up to smooth her hair back from her face and she smiled at me.
The way she’d angled the car meant we were under the shade of some trees. Within a few minutes, Brooke’s breathing evened out. I could have taken a nap, too. Instead, I vowed to stay awake and keep an eye on her.
19
There Is Nothing Left to Lose– Foo Fighters
While Brooke napped, I read my book. I only had a couple of chapters left, then I was out of paperbacks. I was sure we could find somewhere in Atlanta for me to pick up a few more – there were bound to be more thrift stores in the city.
It would be an eight-hour drive from Atlanta to Orlando tomorrow, which was longer than we’d driven in one day since leaving Seattle, but I had a feeling that once we were on that last leg of the trip, neither of us would want to stop. At least Brooke had gotten over her refusal to let me drive the Mustang now, so we could take it in turns. Two hours each, then swap. That would give us plenty of opportunities to use rest stops, get something to eat and put gas in the car.
When I finished the book, I pulled my phone out of the glove box and turned it on. It took a minute for it to connect to shaky 3G, but I didn’t need a huge amount ofbandwidth to check out Orlando. Before I’d started researching the city, I had no idea there were so many corporate conventions held there. Being from the Northwest, I’d always assumed Orlando was a theme park city and nothing more. It made sense, though – they had an international airport and plenty of huge hotels to put people in.
I almost jumped out of my skin when someone knocked lightly on the windshield.
My heart didn’t slow down at all when a sheriff’s deputy gave me a jaunty wave.
‘Brooke,’ I murmured, shaking her shoulder.
She startled awake.
‘Sorry,’ he said, leaning down to the open window. ‘Just a welfare check. I was driving past and noticed you had pulled over.’
He seemed friendly enough, but I didn’t trust him. Icouldn’ttrust him, especially as there was the possibility that he could recognize me at any second. Would the cops be expecting to find me in the middle of nowhere in Georgia, though? If there was ever a time to play it cool, it was now.
He was handsome, with a Southern accent that was starting to sound familiar. His sandy hair was about the same color as the uniform he was wearing, complete with shiny black shoes and aviator sunglasses tucked into the open collar of his shirt.
I scrambled to get out of the car.
‘Sorry,’ I said as he walked around. ‘Didn’t mean to worry you.’
‘That’s okay.’ He hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his pants and rocked back on his heels. ‘Where are you headed?’
‘Atlanta,’ I said with a smile that I hoped looked real. ‘My friend was feeling a little tired, so we pulled over.’
‘This isn’t the safest place to stop. There’s a gas station with a truck stop about five miles down the road.’
‘Okay. We’ll head that way.’ I silently prayed that would be it. That he would let us go.
‘Do you guys have any identification on you?’
My stomach sank. This was it. He was going to call us in.
‘I’m really sorry, I lost my driver’s license in Nashville,’ I said. I tried another smile, like Brooke would, flirting a little to get him on our side. ‘I’ll pick up a new one next week.’
‘How about you?’ he asked as Brooke stepped out of the driver’s side of the car.
‘Sure,’ she said easily, taking her wallet out of the back pocket of her jeans. She flicked through her cards and pulled out Meredith’s fake ID.
‘Meredith Summer,’ he said. ‘You’re a long way from Denver, Ms Summer.’