“Yeah, that’s it. Thanks.”

She wore a badge that read Trudie and although he’d never met another Trudie her name somehow fit. With her hair dyed an awful orange color and teased up the way his grandma used to do hers, she wore a purple smock and bright red lipstick with matching nail polish. She wasn’t bad-looking despite the terrible dye job, not for someone in her seventies. He liked that she took care of herself. He could smell her perfume from the other side of the counter. It didn’t smell particularly expensive, but he thought if he ever got married, he’d like to be with a woman who always tried to look her best.

The cash register beeped as she scanned his chocolate milk, pork rinds, whiskey and condoms he threw down at the last second.

He glanced out the window to see Ink sitting in the white Dodge Ram that had belonged to the men they’d killed. Ink had taken to driving. He stayed behind the wheel and left the engine idling while L.J. ducked into one place after another to ask about Laurel Hodges. At this point, L.J. was in as much of a hurry to find her as Ink was. He wanted to finish whatever they had to do in Montana and get the hell on the road. Pineview was so small, he felt they stood out, especially with Ink tatted up the way he was.

Seeming anxious not to miss a minute of her program, Trudie handed him his bag with an absentminded, “Thank you. Come again,” and returned to her stool.

It was time to launch into his spiel. “Excuse me, but… I’m hoping you can help me.”

She looked at him for the first time.

“I’m searching for my sister,” he began. “She’s about five-ten and—”

He didn’t get any farther before Trudie’s gaze flicked toward a flyer taped to the side of her register. Then her eyes widened and she nearly fell off her stool.

Almost as surprised as she was, L.J. checked the flyer to see what was wrong—and saw a picture of him and Ink beneath the heading Sheriff’s Notice. A phone number and an explanation had been printed on there, as well, but he didn’t take the time to read it. He didn’t need to. He knew what that flyer was, just as he knew Trudie had recognized him.

Leaving the snacks and the condoms, he bolted out the door and jumped into the passenger seat of the truck. “Go! Go! Go!”

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Ink didn’t pause to question him. Evidently the terror on his face was enough to get an immediate response. Heedless of any back pain he might be suffering, Ink shoved the gearshift into Reverse and launched the vehicle backward, only to shift again before they could even come to a stop.

Positive that they were about to have an accident, L.J. closed his eyes. He knew Ink couldn’t be watching for oncoming traffic. He was too busy putting some distance between them and that store. L.J. was more afraid of getting arrested than crashing, anyway. He’d bought and sold drugs, and he’d beat up a few people, but he’d never considered doing the shit Ink had gotten him into. Shooting those hunters. Beating that real-estate agent to death. Getting that woman in L.A. killed. If they got busted, he’d go down for all of it.

Rocks smacked the undercarriage like machine-gun fire as their backend fishtailed and their tires spun gravel. But once they reached the pavement, they had traction and lurched forward with greater power. Miraculously, Ink managed to bring the truck under control, and they hurtled away from the little grocery store without hitting anything. But only because the road was clear.

Grabbing the rearview mirror, L.J. turned it so he could see if Trudie had come out of the store. He didn’t want her to jot down their license plate number. Then the sheriff would be able to trace the plate and figure out it belonged to the men they’d killed.

All he could see was a big cloud of dust; that was probably all she could see, too.

“What happened in there?” Ink asked once Pineview had disappeared from sight.

“She recognized me!” He hadn’t bothered with his seat belt. He braced himself with one hand on the door and the other on the dash, eyeing the rearview mirror to see if a cop car would come racing up from behind.

Ink smacked the seat between them. “How? What the hell happened?”

L.J.’s heart seemed to be chugging harder than the pistons in the engine. “How should I know? I went in and asked about my long-lost sister, like usual. At first the woman seemed fine, but then she stared at me as if she’d swallowed a marble. I wasn’t sure what was going on until I saw the flyer.”

“What flyer?”

“A sheriff’s bulletin with my picture on it. Yours, too.”

Ink cursed. He was so worked up he didn’t seem to be slowing down.

Now that they were safely away, L.J. felt there was no reason to draw attention by speeding. Getting pulled over would put an end to their freedom, possibly for life. “Hey, can you take it easy?”

“You want me to take it easy?” Ink snapped.

The wildness in his eyes frightened L.J. and he let go of the armrest long enough to motion for his partner to calm down. “Whoa! We need to blend in, not stand out, right?”

Ink didn’t like being told what to do. L.J. had never seen anyone get angry quicker or for less reason. He was always looking for a fight. But he seemed to see the logic in L.J.’s words because he eased up on the gas. “We’re going to find her.”

“Of course we will.” L.J. just hoped they’d find her soon. Because until then, his own safety was in jeopardy.

Ink commandeered the rearview mirror and checked it every few seconds. “So what did you do when she recognized you?”

“What do you think? I ran out before she could call the cops.”

“Why didn’t you shoot her? Dead people can’t talk.”

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Murder wasn’t his answer to everything. “I wasn’t the only shopper in there, that’s why. There was a mother and two kids.”

“There weren’t any other vehicles outside.”

“They must’ve walked.”

Somehow Ink knew he was lying. “You can’t be too scared to use that gun, man.”

“I’m not scared,” he grumbled. “I just don’t see any reason to kill people unless I have to.”

“You should’ve put a plug in her.”

Bullshit. That was only going to get him into more trouble. He had to escape from this psychopath. The sooner, the better. He just wasn’t sure how to go about it. If he left now, Ink would find Laurel, kill her, then come after him. And if Ink ever caught up with him…




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