Nowhere to Run. Valerie Hansen
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the block. The driver was probably lost, which was not unusual either, since so many of the outlying streets were unmarked, dirt roads.
When Seth had eased up even with the idling van, he leaned across his truck seat, past Babe, to peer at the driver. “Can I help you?”
The man’s “No” was followed by a curse that caused Seth to recoil. Folks in the South were so well known for their amiability that this kind of response stood out like a red flag. If the stranger truly was an innocent delivery man, there was no earthly reason why he should act so inhospitably.
Pulling ahead and back into the line of traffic, Seth raced for the service station. He wasn’t sure that any of this pertained to Marie, but he wasn’t about to take the chance that it might. Something had frightened her when she’d stared at the street a few minutes ago, and as far as he could tell, there were no strangers in the area except the foul-mouthed guy in the delivery truck.
Therefore, Seth was going to do all he could to hide her car from prying eyes until he found out exactly what was going on.
And he was going to find out.
One way or another.
Marie was beside herself. She immediately drew the heavy, maroon drapes together and peeked through a thin slit where they met in the center of the motel room window.
Had the van’s driver spied her? She didn’t think so. But what about her car? Although it was parked inside the repair shop for the present, Seth would probably move it out of the way until he was able to get the necessary replacement parts. If he did so, the man in the white van would surely spot it. And then it would only be a matter of time before Roy’s enemies were able to track her down.
Hands trembling, she picked up the thin local phone book and looked up the number of the garage. She didn’t want to involve Seth in her problems but saw no alternative.
The pleasant-sounding man who answered the telephone quickly put the mechanic on the line when Marie requested to speak with him.
“Where is my car?” she blurted.
“Marie? I mean, Mrs. Smith?”
“Yes. Where did you put my car?”
“I left it inside,” he answered calmly. “Where nobody can see it if they drive by.”
She was taken aback. “You did? Why?”
“Beats me. It just seemed like the best thing to do. Would you care to tell me what’s going on?”
“Not really.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“It’s better if you don’t know.”
“Is it? That remains to be seen. How can I help you if you won’t confide in me?”
“All you have to do is keep my car out of sight, like you already have, and everything will be fine,” she said.
“What are you afraid of?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t you know it’s a sin to lie?” he asked.
“That’s what Patty keeps telling me.”
She heard him chuckle before he said, “Smart kid. What was your response to that?”
“I told her it was probably okay if it was absolutely necessary.”
“Can’t argue with you there, although I imagine my pastor would,” Seth said. “Look, I’ll be off duty in a couple of hours. How about if I stop by and pick you both up for supper? I know a couple of great little places to eat. Patty likes pizza, right?”
“We aren’t going anywhere with you,” Marie said flatly. “We don’t even know you.”
“Do you want your car left in the garage or shall I move it outside, tonight?”
“That’s blackmail.” She didn’t want to give in to his demands but saw no easy way to avoid capitulating.
“Not exactly. Let’s just call it Southern hospitality in an extreme form. Be ready at seven. I’ll pull around back, and you won’t have to show your face until we’re out of town if you don’t want to.”
“We’re leaving town?”
“Just as far as Gumption. It’s about five miles away.”
“All right,” she said, although every instinct told her to stand her ground. “But the dog comes, too. I want an impartial chaperone.”
Seth’s resulting laugh sounded warm and not at all threatening. “It’s a deal. Babe loves pizza almost as much as I do. And it’s going to be a warm evening. We can make it a picnic in the park—totally public—if you’re worried about being alone with me.”
“I’m a lot more worried about being out in public, with or without you,” Marie admitted ruefully. “We’ll be waiting.”
THREE
Marie had showered, washed and dried her hair and changed into lightweight slacks and a casual top long before it was time for Seth to pick them up. It had occurred to her that perhaps it would be wise for both her and Patty to dye or bleach their hair, but she couldn’t bring herself to alter the child’s beautiful, natural coloring.
Besides, the way she saw it, as long as they were driving that old blue car of hers, there was no way a changed physical appearance was going to help much. What she needed to do was ditch the car, the way pursued victims always did in the movies. Unfortunately, she had barely enough cash to continue running away, let alone buy a different vehicle.
Another problem was Patty’s insistence that her mother always tell the absolute truth in spite of the danger of doing so. Smiling, Marie recalled being the same kind of stubborn, exasperating child she was now raising. Except in her case, her mother had simply given up. And her father? He had been gone so much that, although Marie had an overall impression of his being rather handsome and suave, she could barely envision his face.
Marie promised herself that she was not going to make that kind of mistake in regard to Patty. With the blessing of having a child came serious responsibility, not only for that child’s physical needs but for the spiritual, as well.
A knock on the door brought her back to the present and made her heart leap. Instead of answering verbally, she hurried to peer out the peephole.
It was Seth. He had picked up Babe and was moving the dog’s foreleg so that it looked as if she was waving hello.
Relieved, Marie opened the door. “Hi. You’re early.”
“I figured you two might be hungry, so I hurried,” he said with a smile. The minute he released the dog, she bounded through the door and jumped onto the bed, trying to kiss her new buddy.
Giggling, Patty pushed her away and ran back to the door, with Babe in pursuit.
Marie gathered up her purse and jackets for her and Patty in case the evening turned chilly, made sure she had her key card and closed the door behind them before remarking, “You clean up pretty nicely, mister.”
“Thanks. These are my best jeans and a new shirt. Are you surprised?”
“I wasn’t referring to your clothes,” she explained, feeling her cheeks warming. “I just didn’t think you’d ever be able to get all that grease off your hands.”
“Sandpaper does it every time,” he quipped.
She arched an eyebrow and played along. “Must be painful.”
“Not if I use a fine-enough grain.”
The deadpan way he delivered the silly explanation made Marie laugh. She’d had serious misgivings about going anywhere with Seth—or with anyone else—and it helped to find humor in