CHAPTER NINE
The town of Clinton was twenty miles east of Missoula on I-86, so by the time they got there, it was almost nine. Rylie had been dragging under the harsh fluorescent lights of the precinct’s conference room, but now that she had the coffee flowing through her veins, she felt her second wind coming on.
Michael, however, looked beat. He leaned his head against the window and didn’t speak. She thought maybe he was sleeping, but she didn’t want to wake him. The quiet was a nice change of pace.
The Gas Express was the only gas station around for miles. Even so, it had several cars parked by the pumps, and a few at a small, nameless diner nearby that only said, “EAT.” When they pulled into the parking lot outside the gas station’s small convenience store and she cut the engine, M
