Page 31 of Sweet Obsession
A broad grin on his face, Blake leaned over and kissed Jillian’s forehead. “Miller’s Creek, here we come!”
Chapter Fifteen
“Phase three, ready to go.” Still ducked low in the back seat, Blake laughed easily as Alice hopped out of the vehicle and hurried up the porch steps to Sara’s house.
A few minutes later, the two women were safely strapped into the front seats, laughing like a pair of school girls.
Never would Blake have thought his grandmother would cooperate with such a crazy scheme. “This is more fun than canasta night,” she declared happily.
Alice took the side roads to the edge of town where Kade, already parked waiting for them, leaned against the hood of the old suburban.
Parked beside him, Alice quickly hopped out. “Did you hear?”
Smiling, Kade nodded. “There are more Blake and Jillian impersonators in Honeysuckle than Elvis’ in Vegas.”
“You got that right.” His mother gave him a high-five, then turned to her daughter. “It should be smooth sailing for the three of you from here.”
Shifting places, Blake slid behind the driver’s wheel, Jillian took shotgun, and his Grams settled comfortably into the back seat.
The absurdity of the last few hours gave way to a sense of cautious optimism. The town had bought them a clear path. Nowall they had to do was get to Miller’s Creek and back without any more drama.
Plugging the doctor’s address into the GPS, Jillian studied the screen, then twisted to glance out the rear window. “So far, so good.”
“So, where are we going now?” His grandmother grinned from the backseat.
“Miller’s Creek.”
Grams’ brows dipped into a perfect V.
Hell, she’d been so good, he’d almost forgotten all about the why of this little plot. “Visiting Doc Conroy’s friend?”
Heaving a deep sigh, his grandmother rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes. That man worries too much.”
Hopeful her momentary lapse was nothing more than the equivalent of him forgetting where he placed his car keys, he refocused on their mission and glanced in the rear-view mirror. The road behind them was empty, stretching back through the dusty Texas landscape. He allowed himself to relax, his hands loosening on the wheel. Maybe, just maybe, their crazy plan had actually worked. Despite feeling more at ease about their escape, Blake continued to check the rear-view mirror every so often.
At first, the road remained empty, but not even halfway to Miller’s Creek, he noticed a dark speck in the distance. Most likely it was just another local heading in the same direction, but like your tongue constantly seeking out the gap of a recently lost tooth, he couldn’t help but glance in the rear-view mirror more frequently than normal.
After several miles of this, Jillian seemed to have sensed his unease, or maybe she’d just been as concerned as he’d been. “How long has that car been behind us?”
“A while.”
Her gaze remained fixed on the side mirror, but she didn’t say anything else.
Keeping his speed steady, his eyes flicking between the road ahead and the mirror. The car that had come close enough to determine it was a sedan, maintained its distance, a persistent shadow. It wasn’t speeding up, but it wasn’t falling back either. A prickle of unease, the same kind he felt when a crowd got too pushy backstage, had slowly been creeping up his spine and settling uncomfortably at the base of his neck.
Out in the middle of stark West Texas, there was no way to determine if the driver and lone passenger, or at least what he thought was a lone passenger, were just heading to Miller’s Creek for some inconsequential reason, or if they were indeed being followed. He didn’t like thinking he’d become paranoid, but he liked the idea of being tracked by reporters even less.
Despite not another word said about the sedan, the tension in the car was elevating to the point that Blake could almost hear Jillian grinding her teeth and his grandmother wringing her hands.
Near the edge of Miller’s Creek, with more offshoots from the main road leading to the scattering of new residential areas, he hit his blinker. “Time to find out what’s really going on.”
He made a slow turn onto a narrow, gravel farm road. The bumpy stretch was an illogical route for anyone just passing through.
Jillian’s gaze was fixed on the side mirror. “They’re turning,” she confirmed, the two words dropping like stones in the quiet car.
The knot in his stomach tightened. This wasn’t a local. This was a tail. Following the road as it turned and curved, he looped around and came back on a different road to meet the main drag.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath.
