That doesnt look any better than your truck or my Yugo.
Mack grunted. Believe me. A ton of custom works already been poured into that baby. And there he goes. The other guys with him. He put the pickup in gear.
How are we ever going to keep up with him?
Dont let appearances fool you, he said as he stepped on the accelerator and spun out of the parking lot in a shower of pebbles. Theres custom work under this old hood, too.
OmiG.o.d! she exclaimed as she slid across the bench seat and into him. You dont have to drive like a lunatic!
Buckle up.
As the car in the distance slowed for a curve, Mack slowed the pickup, as well, giving Chloe time to wrestle with her seat belt.
Wont he know were following him? she asked.
That depends on how far we have to tail him. There arent many places you can go around here at this hour, except home. The kids sometimes drag race out by the old airstrip, but we run a regular patrol out there to break things up. I dont suppose this guy would want to conduct a meeting where the sheriffs department is known to show up at any time.
Mack expertly maneuvered a series of hairpin turns as Chloe slid back and forth on the hard plastic seat despite being buckled up. With all the jouncing, she was going to need a bathroom soon.
Of course, there are a couple private clubs back in the hollows. If he heads for one of those, were going to be reduced to pulling into the bushes or driving back and forth until the Camaros on the move again.
He slowed as their headlights picked up a deer with her fawn standing like lawn ornaments by the roadside.
Then theres Phils Eats, a twenty-four-hour joint over the county line.
Have you considered he might call it a night and go home to bed? she asked.
Not him. He thinks of himself as a real player. A not-so-big fish in a small pond is what he is. But its his overblown ego thats going to eventually do him in.
Despite Macks boast that the truck had considerable custom work under the hood, the heater wasnt cranking out much warmth. Chloe pulled the cuffs of her sweatshirt over her fists. What are you hoping to accomplish tonight?
At this point we just want to observe his contacts. And Phils Eats it is, he declared as the Camaro made a right under a neon sign up ahead.
Mack pulled over to the side of the road and waited a full five minutes, letting a half-dozen cars enter and exit the diners parking lot before pulling in himself. Through the big plate-gla.s.s windows, Chloe could see that the two men from the auction were seated in a booth and were now joined by a third man.
The plot thickens, she said as Mack found a spot in the crowded lot. Do you know the new guy?
Sort of. Mack backed into a position that afforded an indirect view of the front door. Enough that I wouldnt feel comfortable showing myself inside.
Dont yell at me, but I have to pee, Chloe admitted when he finally came to a stop.
He sighed, then pulled a twenty from his pocket and handed it to her. You go in. Order us some takeout. Anything. While you wait, use the bathroom.
What if they decide to leave before Dont worry about that. Now go.
She went into the diner and ordered burgers, fries and a couple of sodas to go, then used the restroom. The three men were still there, huddled in heated discussion, when she came out and paid, and still there when she headed for the pickup.
Back in the cab she and Mack ate in silence, while he fixated on the scene inside the dinerthe men drinking cup after cup of coffee and talking, talking, talking. Because Mack didnt acknowledge her presence, she gathered their trash and was about to get out to throw it in the bin by the door when the three men stood up, paid and stepped out into the parking lot.
What if the guy you sort of know recognizes you? she asked, her heart racing at the thought of discovery.
Mack didnt answer. Instead, he pulled her to him and kissed her hard. So hard she found it difficult to breathe. When she finally came up for air, she tried unsuccessfully to phrase a question. What?
Be quiet. His lips hovered above hers. For all they know, were a couple of kids making out.
Okay. She could do this.
Especially since he did it so well.
She wondered briefly where and with whom he practiced, before surrendering to the second kiss. Or was it the third? Or maybe the fourth? Whatever. She threaded her fingers through his hair and heard him groan. Was that part of the act?
She didnt care.
This was soooo inappropriate.
She didnt care.
He felt and smelled and tasted too good. And she must not have felt half-bad, either, because his hand was under her jacket, under her layers of clothing, on her bare skin.
He sucked in air, pulled back. You dont wear a bra?
No, she said between gasps. Do you?
The Camaro pulled out of the parking lot, three men now inside.
Buckle up, Mack ordered for the second time tonight, his hands returning to the wheel. How could that be? She still felt them on her skin. Still felt the rush of his kiss. But he sat erect, staring through the windshield, in full control of, not only his hands, but his emotions. Apparently hot kisses were a routine part of surveillance. No biggie.
For him.
Shed need a lot more practice before she ever regarded them as ho-hum.
CHAPTER TEN.
M ACK DIDNT KNOW WHAT riled him more: that this surveillance, with a reporter tagging along, had the potential to become more than boring routine; or that hed gotten lost in the diversionary kiss with said reporter.
He was careful not to follow the Camaro too closely. His pickup looked like a hundred other farm trucks in the area. If the subject had noted its presence at both the auction and the diner, no big deal. But a third time heading in the same direction? Cause for suspicion, if the guy had a brain in his head.
When the Camaro turned to cross Duffys Creek, Mack had a good idea hed be heading for the private club in Watkins Hollow.
Why arent you following? Chloe asked as Mack drove past the turn off.
I know where hes going. But I dont want him to think were going there, too.
Mack drove a mile farther, then did a tire-squealing, two-point turn in the road before heading back toward the creek crossing. A couple of miles past the bridge, he shut off his headlights then came to a stop within sight of the Watkins property and a large vegetable stand. It was there that Ione Watkins sold produce by day and Owen Watkins entertained his cronies by night. Up until now the nighttime get-togethers hadnt been serious enough to warrant the sheriffs interference. They involved some drinking. Some cards. A lot of BS. A congenial spot to float the idea of a fake-lottery-ticket scam.
Several cars and trucks, including the Camaro, were parked in front of the stand. The buildings rough shutters were closed, but light leaked out around the edges and smoke trickled out of the chimney. Downwind and on the other side of the road, Mack backed the pickup deep into the underbrush, but not so deep he couldnt keep an eye on the activity up the road. Anyone driving by would simply think the old truck was abandoned.
Youre not going to have any paint left, Chloe protested as branches clawed at the fenders.
Thats the beauty of a farm truck like this, he replied, shutting off the engine. Its seen worse. Besides, its whats under the hood that counts.
What now? she asked as a country quiet descended on them.
Exactly. What now? Mack couldnt help but think of the wait aheadmaybe hours. Alone with Chloe.
Coffee, he said, and reached for his thermos. Thats next.
She reached for hers, as well, then immediately put it back on the floor.
Its going to be a long night, he cautioned. If you want to get a good notion of surveillance, youre going to have to stay awake.
I know. But if I drink all this coffee, at one point Im going to have toyou know.
He indicated the great outdoors surrounding them. Pick your spot.
She looked dubiously out her window.
Did you ever hear the story, he said, of the escaped convict with the hook Dont! She swung her arm and belted him across the chest. Luckily he hadnt unscrewed the top to his coffee. The thermos clattered to the floor. How did the sheriff choose to leave an adolescent in charge? He might as well have deputized his son.
Well, were going to have to talk about something until dawn.
Turn the radio on, then.
The battery would be dead in no time. Hey, Darden warned you surveillance is mostly boredom.
And cold, she griped. The warmth from the heater was quickly escaping the cab.
Come on. Toughen up, Atherton. Youre wearing long underwear.
Her sharp intake of breath told him she remembered how he knew. When hed slipped his hand under her clothes while they were kissing. When hed discovered she wasnt wearing a bra. It might be pitch-black in the truck, but his wandering thoughts were in cinematic color.
I can take you back to town, he offered. These guys will more than likely be here when I return.
Youd like to get rid of me, Im sure.
Not true, he admittedalbeit reluctantlyand was glad hed insisted she leave her tape recorder behind.
When she had no retort, they lapsed into an awkward silence. He poured himself a cup of coffee and drank it staring out the window at the vegetable stand. The woman was a thorn in his side. He actually did want her goneat the same time he wanted her pressed up against him.
About this morning, he said at last. Better to talk about that gaffe than the kiss. I didnt mean to hurt you by looking up your name. I only wanted to make a point.
This time she didnt shrink from him. You asked me why, in light of my familys tragedy, I became a reporter.
I said you dont have to answer that.
I need to. She took a deep breath.
He waited.
When it looked as if I might be clinically depressed, she said slowly, despite family counseling, despite individual counseling, my mothera scientist and very a.n.a.lyticaltook matters into her own hands.
Chloe picked up a napkin left over from their takeout and began to shred it. Mack wanted to stop her, but that would involve touching. Too intimate. Too dangerous.
I dont know how Mom did it, she continued. She had her own grief to bear. But she started me on a course of facing reality. Oh, she didnt call it that. She merely steered me away from the fiction section when we visited the library. Toward nonfiction. She monitored my TV viewing and my movies. We saw a lot of IMAX doc.u.mentaries at the natural-history museum.
The napkin shredded, she started on the takeout bag. He felt helpless to stop her.
Her mantra became The truth stays independent of hurt or help.
Harsh. He thought of Nate. Of Tanya.
No. Its unemotional reality. Truth just is. My mother believed if she could teach me to face up to that, Id survive. Claire was dead. I hadnt meant for her to die. My parents had to get beyond what-if to survive. So they concentrated on their love for each other. Their love for me. Work. The world at large that went on despite our grief.
Cold. He shivered at their dispa.s.sionate approach to tragedyuntil he thought of his own. Descent into alcohol. Recovery at a pricepushing everyone away.
Thats why I became a reporter, she said. I stick to the facts and try to get close to the truth.
Are you really that tough? He meant it as a compliment.
No ones as tough as they make out, she shot back, scooping up the shredded paper and stuffing it into what remained of the takeout bag. Not even you.
And what gives you that idea?
When I talked to Tanya Donahue Youre not going to write about Tanya.
Why not? Her position is deplorable. People need to read how vets families are faring. And your attempt to help her is admirable. The public also deserves to know how you go above and beyond your duties as a deputy.
Now he was getting p.i.s.sed off. Exposure was another form of touch. This friggin article isnt about me.
Actually, my editors considering making it into a series.
Theres not enough story for a brief scroll across the bottom of the screen on the local news channel. He glanced at the vegetable stand. No more vehicles had arrived. None had left.
Let us be the judge of that, she said.
You are so naive, he said, turning to her. You have no idea whats a story and whats not. What const.i.tutes facts, even. Werent you the one who initially thought I was accepting a bribe from Burt and buying drugs from Duke?
Yes. And at first I thought Tanya was a hooker.
He slammed the steering wheel with the flat of his hand. Why would you think that?