CHAPTER TWO-2
1045 Words
THE BUS PULLED INTO a truck stop as dawn started to break over the horizon. A large sign, blinking with age and wear, proclaimed it the Stop and Dine restaurant and gift shop.
The massive, broken parking lot was filled with idling tractor trailers, lined up almost as far as the eye could see. A few buses kept watch over the highway down another aisle, as if someone had declared them persona non grata and relegated them to the darker end of the lot.
His muscles tight and achy from sitting, Clovis stretched his legs and waited as the other passengers began to stir. He kept one eye on the punk a few rows behind him, planning to follow him and the woman inside.
The weary driver opened the door and picked up his clipboard as he called out. “We’re just outside of beautiful Columbia, Missouri, folks. We’ll stop here for an hour...leaving at six thirty. That’s long enough to stretch and get a bite to eat. Don’t be late getting back on or you’ll get left behind.”
Clovis waited as the other passengers stood up, stretched, and headed outside. He kept an eye on the two teens until they were safely inside the truck stop.
When the punk and his pretty friend didn’t leave the bus, Clovis finally turned to look at them. They had their heads together and seemed to be arguing in harsh whispers.
The woman’s gaze slipped up to his at one point and she frowned slightly.
Clovis didn’t know what they were up to, but he didn’t like the look of it. He decided it might be best to wait them out and follow discretely when they finally left the bus. Twenty minutes later they still hadn’t disembarked.
Up in front, the driver snored softly, his head resting on the back of his seat and his ball cap pulled down over his eyes. Other than the driver, Clovis and the two behind him, the bus was empty. Clovis decided it wouldn’t hurt to leave for just a minute, to visit the men’s room and grab a coffee or something.
But as he stood and walked up the aisle, he could almost feel the two planners behind him coming to attention. And as he stepped down off the bus, the two of them started up the aisle to follow.
Clovis stopped at the door into the truck stop and turned, watching the co-conspirators step down from the bus. The punk stood on the broken asphalt, his gaze catching on Clovis, and waited, watching.
Clovis thought about going back out there...confronting them. Why had they waited for him to leave before getting up? And why did the woman look like she wanted to climb back onto the bus? Their behavior didn’t make sense unless the punk was afraid of him. A highly unlikely possibility given the kid’s brainless bravado to that point.
Something was wrong.
Clovis opened the door and pulled out his cell, dialing Alf as he headed toward the restrooms in the back corner. A little judicious back up was definitely in order. He got his brother’s voice mail. “Hey, bro. I just wanted to let you know we stopped for breakfast near Columbia, Missouri. I’m assuming Phillips and Dael are nearby, tell them I’ll be in the diner.” He hung up and pushed through the door to the back, walking the few feet down the hall and ducking inside the men’s room.
Clovis did his business, washed his hands, and stepped to the door. The hallway outside was quiet. He cracked the door just enough to slip into the darkened hall with his senses on full alert. As the restroom door swung shut he was cast into near total dark. The overhead light was out.
He was pretty sure it had been working when he went inside. Clovis reached for the Glock he carried in the waistband of his jeans, at the same time putting his back to the wall. There was a whisper of sound and he turned his head. He thought the shadows were darker at the end of the hall, but he couldn’t be sure. “Who’s there?”
A scuff. A soft footfall.
Clovis tightened his hand around the gun as the shadows swayed and a figure appeared. He blinked as something flashed through the dark toward his head. He swung his gun up and turned just as pain blossomed through his skull and his knees buckled out from under him.
His head smacked into the grimy floor but he barely felt it as darkness enveloped him.
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* * * *
EMMA FOUND SHAWN AT the sub counter, leaning against the wall as he waited for his order. His dark eyes followed her across the shop, his thin lips tight. “You do your business?”
Emma stepped close, touching his arm, and spoke in a harsh whisper. “It’s done. Let’s get out of here.”
He shook off her hand. “Give me my knife back.”
Emma blinked, thinking fast. “I ditched it.”
He straightened away from the wall, his hands curling into fists. “You threw away my knife?” His hot, garlicky breath fanned her face as he leaned close, crowding her space.
Emma’s hand snaked into her purse as she stepped back. She glanced quickly around. “Keep your voice down. You want everybody to know? What about when they find him?”
“Your sub, sir.”
Shawn reached over and snatched the sandwich out of the pimply teen’s hand. “We’ll be long gone by then.”
Emma followed him out, praying he was right. Two men passed them as they exited the sub restaurant. Two sets of dark, hostile eyes scanned them. The men wore dark suits, white shirts and nearly identical red ties.
Feds. She’d know that look anywhere.
She tore her gaze from theirs and hurried after Shawn. He was halfway to the bus already. Emma felt the world closing in on her. Too many people were taking an interest and she couldn’t afford for anyone to interfere.
The best thing that could happen would be for her and Shawn to get on that bus and leave all the prying eyes behind. Across the parking lot another bus was filling up with people. In the bus headed to Vegas the driver still dozed and the seats were empty.
She grabbed Shawn’s arm. “Come on. I didn’t like the look of those two guys.”
He scowled at her, his mouth full of sub. “What the heck?”
She started walking across the lot. “Trust me. We need to change things up a bit.”
Shrugging, Shawn took another bite and started after her.
- Writer
