Deadly Consequences (22 page)

“Yeah,” Sierra used her sleeve to wipe her tears and hurried over to them.

“Whoa.” The kid eyed her battered face, backing away. “What happened to you?”

She cast a furtive glance around her. “Hey, listen, I want the car okay? I came here to get a soda after class. And what do I see? My fiancée with the local rich bitch. I confront him. He pulls me outside, threatens me, smacks me in the face and takes off with my car. His Daddy is some big shot with the Chicago police. He dumped me, right on the spot. Said if I caused a scene or messed things up with his new girlfriend, he’d make all kinds of trouble for me. He would too, he’s that mean. I don’t even want to go home and get my stuff. I just want a car so I can go back to my family in Illinois. I don’t want trouble.”

The kid looked at his buddy. “Neither do I.”

She batted her lashes, “Please, help me. You’re asking five grand for the car. I’ll give you six, if you can promise if anyone ever comes asking, you’ve never seen me. No matter what.”

The buddy nudged pimple face, “An extra thou, man. Ain’t nothin’ to sneeze at.”

The kid shifted from foot to foot. “You know what you gotta do, right? With the plates and title and all?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“You wanna have it checked out or take it for a ride?”

“No. I just want to get far away from the asshole before he comes after me again.”

“You wanna buy it? Just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that. If we have a deal. You’ve never seen me. I’m scared he might kill me…or worse. You don’t know his temper.”

“And you’ll pay an extra grand?”

She shoved her hand into her pocket, and pulled out a wad of cash. “It’s right here.”

“Well.” He looked at his friend again.

“Well?”

He eyed the bills in her hand. “All right then, you got yourself a deal.”

“Even if the cops starts talkin’ trash about me?”

“Hey, I ain’t never seen ya.”

Sierra shoved the money into his hand before he could change his mind. “Thank you. You saved my life.” The teen had no idea how true that was.

“Shit, for a thousand bucks, it’s the least I can do.” He handed her the keys and the title. “Get that taken care of okay? Like, right away?”

“You bet. Thank you.”

“Anytime. She’s all yours.” He started to walk away, and then turned back. “You know, maybe I should go with you for the title exchange.”

Shit,
this was a complication she didn’t need.

“My fiancée is probably gonna be lookin’ for me. He’s a big guy who thinks with his fists. I promise, I’ll take care of it right away. I don’t want him giving you any trouble.”

The kid hesitated before he nodded. “All right. Just don’t mess me up, okay?”

“Okay.” Poor guy, she
was
going to mess him up. She should have given him more than an extra thousand for his troubles.

He scuffed the tip of his gym shoes on the pavement, deep in thought. He was probably remembering all the good advice his parents gave him about what
not
to do when selling a car. Her heart stood still. She needed the Honda.

The buddy poked him. “A grand, man. Let’s book.”

“Yeah.” He raised trusting brown eyes to hers.
She would remember those eyes.
“Good luck.”

Sierra forced a smile and a waved. She waited until they were out of sight before tucking the title into her back pocket, and transferring her belongings to the new car.
Now what to do with Neil’s car?

There were woods within walking distance. She gnawed on the side of her cheek, thinking. Sierra drove in as deep as she could and pulled over. There was a tool kit in the trunk. She located the VIN number, and hacked away at it with a screwdriver. If anyone were looking for her, they’d have figured out by now that she’d taken Neil’s car. The longer they thought that the better. Squatting down, she removed the license plates. She sat back on her heels, tracing the numbers with her finger. Whenever Neil picked her up, she’d watch for the familiar plate number. Another thing she’d never do again. She sighed, shuddering with emotion. This wasn’t the time to break down, not if she wanted to outwit the killer.

Sierra steeled herself to take last look through the car; she didn’t want to leave any of his personal items behind. One day, she might look back and regret it. She emptied out the glove compartment, it contained mostly junk, nothing worth keeping. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something sliver glinting under the driver’s side seat. She stretched forward to reach it, surprised when she found a netbook, one of those small mobile laptops that allowed instant access to the internet. Neil never mentioned owing one. It was becoming apparent there was a lot she didn’t know about her fiancée.

For good measure, she left the driver’s side window open, and the keys in the ignition. If Indiana were anything like Chicago, someone would steal the car or chop it up for parts. Abandoning Neil’s car to be picked clean by scavengers felt like a second death.

Sierra wrapped her arms around her body. “Good-bye, Neil.”

With a final nod, she turned ready to face the unknown.

Chapter Four

Sierra rolled down the windows, and relished her first taste of freedom since the whole debacle began. She unfastened her ponytail and let the wind whip through her hair. Somewhere along the line, she’d made an unconscious decision to figure out what happened to Neil and what his connection to Grace, Foxtrot and The First Wave was. Curiosity was her downfall; she’d dig for answers, twisting questions until she got the truth.

Let’s just hope my curiosity doesn’t get me killed this time
, she thought, staring out at the fields on either side of her. Every mile looked the same. She wished the scenery wasn’t so monotonous.

It took her over four hours to reach Lexington, Kentucky. Sierra kept the radio loud to drown the voices of doubt in her head.
Best not to think right now,
she warned herself. Riding the roller coaster of emotions plummeting inside her would make her crazy. 

She hadn’t eaten since early that morning, and was starving; stress had a way of making her crave food. She pulled into a local market and stocked up on a blocks of cheese, crackers and Pepsi, using her credit card. Sooner or later, someone besides the killer would be looking for her. The deliberate clues leading from Illinois to Kentucky would help to establish a false trail. Once she got far enough away, if her plan worked, she’d be untraceable.

Her mouth salivated for a bite of cheddar. She ripped into the package and bit off a large chunk. She washed it down with Pepsi and picked up the disposable cell.

Grace still didn’t answer. A bad feeling slithered over Sierra’s spine. Her friend was a creature of habit; if Grace wasn’t answering her phone, it meant something happened to force her to change her routine. She wouldn’t have found Neil’s body. Not yet anyway. Not with Sierra supposedly still there.

So where the hell was she?

Sierra gulped down more Pepsi and rubbed her eyes. She was running on fumes. Between the traffic jam, waiting for the banks to open, and the pit stops she’d made, fourteen hours had passed. Fourteen life-altering hours.

She couldn’t rest yet. Sierra managed to keep her eyes open and hunger sated until she reached Nashville. The cheese wasn’t cutting it anymore. She fueled up, and found a hole- in- the- wall restaurant where she dug into a full slab of the best damn ribs she’d ever eaten.

The joint was jumping. Groups of people laughed over steaming plates of food. Bad jokes rang out from good old boys seated at the bar, and the juke box played country music.

Sierra rested her chin on her hand and took it all in. She envied them. They looked so normal. Everyday people, with everyday problems, letting off a little steam. What she wouldn’t give to be like them, to be a part of the revelry instead of on the outside looking in.

“That’s a mighty wistful expression for such a pretty lady.”

The voice startled her. She glanced up and stared into the blackest eyes she’d ever seen. Two frosty mugs of beer sweated in his hands. “Mind if I join you? The beer is yours whether I can sit or not.”

“I have a long drive ahead,” she answered with a tired smile. “I probably shouldn’t be drinking unless you’re ready to provide me with shelter for the night.”

He grinned. “That could be arranged," he drawled with a mischievous wink.

Her cheeks famed red “No, I didn’t mean…”

“Relax, I know what you meant.” He chuckled, setting one beer on the table in front of her, “I’m not in the habit of taking advantage of strangers. I can offer you a single bed and safety for a night. If you need it, that is.”

Sierra frowned, studying him. He wasn’t her type, but he wasn’t half bad looking. Long black hair slicked back and caught in a ponytail. An interesting face, chiseled good looks, weathered by life. His body was long and lean. He wore soft, faded denim jeans and a loose plaid shirt over a pristine white tee. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. When he cleared his throat, she realized she was staring.

“Do I pass inspection?” He lifted his beer, and gestured to the empty chair opposite her. “May I?”

She looked around the crowded restaurant. He didn’t reek of cop, and she didn’t think anyone had followed her. A vein throbbed in her forehead. She couldn’t shake the feeling she’d seen him somewhere before. Curiosity got the best of her again. “Yes, you may.”

He raised his beer and motioned for her to do the same. Bemused, she complied.

“To fortuitous meetings,” he toasted, clinking his glass against hers.

A chill gripped her. She drained a fourth of the beer in a single swallow, “Why would you say that?”

He leaned back in the booth, and stretched out his legs, “Most meetings are fortuitous, wouldn’t you say?”

She took another swig of beer. The cold drink soothed her dry throat. “No, I don’t necessarily agree.” She cringed at the crack in her voice. Inviting him to sit with her had been a bad idea.

He was nonplussed . “Ah, come on, think about it. Don’t most people, the people you really connect with, come into your life for a reason? They show up right when you need them most, even if you don’t realize it at the time.”

She grew uncomfortable with the direction their conversation was taking. Sierra shifted in her seat, prepared to bolt.

He laughed. A deep, pleasant belly life that permeated her fear. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. I guess I delved too deep to start.”

“Yeah, you think? You’re a bit intense.”

He leaned across the table and winked. “Livin’ life with intensity. That’s me. Never do anything half assed. You only get one chance.”

She laughed, surprising herself. “What, are you Batman or something?”

“Or something.” He extended a hand. “Name’s Skinbone Harris.”

She choked on her beer, covering her face as it shot through her nose.

“Yeah, I get that reaction a lot.” He shrugged.

She peered at him over her hand. “That’s your name? Seriously?”

“Seriously. White Daddy and a Hopi Momma. Both with a warped sense of humor.”

She mopped her face with a napkin. “That explains a lot.”

He crossed his long legs. “It does, doesn’t it? And see, you’re not wistful anymore. You’re laughing, and…sputtering. See? I did come into your life for a reason.”

Sierra raised her eyebrows and finished off her beer. She shouldn’t be drinking, but it felt good to unwind. “Well then Skinbone, serve your purpose and buy me another beer.”

He signaled to the waitress for two more. “You want to talk about what’s troubling you?”