Chapter Eighteen
WHEN I FINISHED putting my makeup on, I slipped on a pair of black pumps and a lightweight overcoat. Then I locked the house up and walked over to the garage where my Verano was parked. When I started the engine, I noticed I was getting low on fuel, so on the way to Dazzle, I stopped at a fuel station. I’d just started pumping gas when I noticed that a big, black truck had pulled up behind my car. Ignoring it, I continued filling my car with gasoline.
The person in the truck got out and I heard footsteps come up behind me. “Darlin’, I thought that was you,” said a gravelly voice.
I turned around to find myself looking up into the cold, flat eyes of the biker who’d been harassing me at Griffin’s. Breaker. I tried to remain calm.
“Sorry?” I said, pretending I didn’t know
