Finding Amy (9 page)

Chapter 12

Carson pulled into an E
xxon and parked. Jamie unbuckled Trish and they disappeared inside the store, leaving him alone with Amy. He placed his arm on the back of their seat. “Are you mad about something?”

Amy
raised her head and he noticed the fine lines around her blood shot green eyes that spoke volumes with the dark circles underneath. Neither of them had slept in over twenty-four hours and the exhaustion affected both of them. She needed to sleep.

“No. I’m just tired.”

Carson didn’t press the issue. “Amy, you have to get some sleep. I probably have more stamina for going without sleep, but I don’t know how long I’ll be able to keep it up. I may need you to take over driving so I can get a twenty minute power nap. Do you think you can drive my truck?”

She pressed her lips together in a thin line before smiling.
“Of course I can. Do you need me to take over now?”

“No. I’m fine right now
. Try to get some sleep.”

“I’ll try.” A sudden thought hit her and she
her palm to her forehead. “Oh nuts. I forgot. Did you call Stan to let him know where to pick up the Jeep?”

Carson shook his head. “There’s no need. The state boys will contact them.”

“What about my car? Are we going through Cody?”

Carson took a deep breath. “I wish we could
so you could pick it up but with this approaching storm and Guthrie hot on our tail, I don’t want to do anything he expects. We don’t need to stop except for fuel. I’ll have your car towed back to Texas.”

****

When did her life stop being her own? She had sacrificed her career to protect her sister and niece, and would do it again in a heart-beat. Now the 2012 Mustang, she had worked and saved to buy, would have to be left five states away. On top of that, she found herself attracted to a Texas Ranger who had the job of escorting two women and a child back to Texas. Her interest in him only played to his advantage. Her feelings for him were so transparent, even she could see them. Her heart wept for the loss of something special that could have been. She didn’t think she would ever find true love. Opening the phone, Amy dialed the number to Cowboy Bills.

After explaining briefly to Stan they were leaving for Texas and
make sure he had retrieved Bess’ car, Amy closed the phone and threw it on the seat between her and Carson. She turned her attention to the falling snow outside.

Jamie
and Trish jumped in the back seat and Jamie buckled Trish into her car seat. “I bought coffee for everyone.” She handed the steaming Styrofoam cups over the seat to Carson and Amy.

“Tha
nks, Jamie. That was thoughtful,” Carson stated.

The tires on the truck squealed as Carson pulled out of the station. Amy grabbed the door handle to keep from falling over. Her heart
jumped into her throat as she watched the trees fly by. Glancing at the speedometer, the truck hit seventy. The roads had a thin layer of ice and snow, causing driving conditions to be hazardous. With her eyes wide, Amy gripped the strap of her seatbelt, and read the caution signs that recommended a speed of forty-five.

“Must we drive so fast?”
Jamie’s voice startled Amy. She glanced over the seat at her sister then back at Carson. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tight his fingertips were white. His face looked hard and uncaring as he stared at the road ahead. Glancing at the dash, she watched the odometer start down and level off at forty-five.

After several hours on the road, Amy
noticed that Carson had gotten quieter. He didn’t even answer any of Trish’s numerous questions. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as his attention switched from being glued to the road ahead of them, to the rear view mirror and back again. She leaned forward and looked in the side mirror of the truck. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. Her curiosity got the better of her and she had to ask. “What’s going on Carson? Do you see something?”

Carson glanced in his rear view mirror again. “I didn’t want to
alarm anyone but I know
Guthrie is driving a black SUV just like the one following about five car lengths behind us. It’s behind that UPS truck. It may not even be him.”

Jamie
stared out the back window. “I don’t see anything.”

“Just stay alert,
” Carson cautioned.

Amy kept watching the outside mirror.
The UPS truck took the exit for Jackson Hole along with the black vehicle SUV. Inhaling, she released a heavy breath. It hadn’t been possible to see the driver due to the distance.

“Do you think it might have been him?” she asked.

Carson shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope not.”

“I
’m hungry,” Trish piped in.

Carson’s arm relaxed and he flex
ed his fingers. “There’s a Circle T truck stop about two miles ahead with an Iron Kettle Restaurant. They have a nice buffet. I need to fill up, anyway.”

“That sounds good. I
’m getting a little hungry, too,” Jamie stated.

Carson took Exit 184
and turned into the truck stop. He pulled up to the diesel pump and parked. “You three go on inside. I’ll fill the truck and join you.”

Amy hopped out
and waited for Jamie and Trish. Jamie closed the back door, took Trish’s hand and adjusted the duffel bag over her left shoulder.

“Why don’t you leave that in the truck?” Amy asked.

Jamie glared at her and snapped. “Because I want to keep it with me. Do you mind?” She pulled Trish toward the front door, leaving Amy to follow.

What had gotten in to her? Amy entered behind them
and watched Jamie march to the ladies room. Amy waited by the door for Carson, breathing deeply to keep from crying. When he arrived, they located a table in the restaurant and waited for Jamie to return.

“How long have they been gone?” Carson asked when
Jamie hadn’t returned fifteen minutes later.

“They’ve
been in there for a while. I’ll go check on them.” After not finding them in the bathroom, Amy’s head filled with all kinds of scenarios. None of which were good. Breaking into a run, she shoved her way back to the table and grabbed Carson’s arm. “They’re not there.” She blurted out.

Carson
placed his hand over Amy’s. “Stay calm, Amy, we’ll find them,” he assured her before marching to the front desk and asking the clerk to page Jamie Kenner.

“We don’t do that sir,” t
he clerk snapped and turned to wait on someone else.

Carson
reached across the counter, gripped the clerk’s wrist and plopped his badge and identification down on the counter. “This is an emergency. Page her.”

The cl
erk’s face turned pale. She picked up the microphone and her voice blared over the intercom system. “Jamie Kenner, your party is waiting at the front desk.”

Amy hugged her midd
le and scanned the isles. Walking back and forth in order to see around the high display shelves, her breathing came in short pants. Where could they have gone? A picture of someone grabbing Jamie and covering Trish’s mouth, played out in her head. By the time she had made her way back to the front desk, Amy had perspiration dripping down her spine. Jamie had been causing people to worry about her as long as Amy could remember. Carson’s arm slipped around her shoulder, giving her some comfort. He squeezed her shoulder when Jamie and Trish came around a corner from the back of the store. Amy gripped her sister’s arms and shook her. “Where did you go?” Amy demanded.

“We went to the restroom,
” Jamie stepped out of Amy’s grip.

“We went to the post
 . . .” Jamie grabbed Trish’s hand and pulled her toward the restaurant.

Amy frowned and stared after her sister.
Jamie had never treated Trish that way. Something was missing. Running through her mind, Amy tried to think. The duffel bag. Jamie insisted on keeping with her. What did she do with it? Could that be what Trish had almost blurted out? Amy vowed to ask Jamie later.

****

The lights of a Circle T Truck Stop shown in the distance. Max had driven at break-neck speed to catch them and the blinking lights on the tracker showed the truck had stopped. He spotted the white dually close to the entrance. They were here. Pulling around behind the busy station, he parked beside an eighteen wheeler, completely hidden from the front. He stepped out of his SUV, wrapped the duster around him, concealing the weapon in his shoulder holster and approached the dually, glancing inside while strolling past.There were several suitcases in the bed of the truck that could be holding the money. Max entered and wandered through the aisles pretending to shop but watching for any sign of Carson and the twins. The sat in a booth inside The Iron Kettle. Strolling to the fountain counter, he poured a cup of coffee and paid the cashier. He had a clear view of the ranger and women. They weren’t carrying anything other than purses so the bag must be in the truck. With the truck parked in front of the busy station, he couldn’t take a chance on breaking in and stealing the case.

Max took his coffee and went back to his car. He pulled forward enough so he could see the
white truck. As soon as Carson pulled out of the truck stop, Max let two other vehicles get between him and the dually before pulling out.

Chapter 13

Carson glanced at the clock on his dash. Close to midnight. To his dismay, the traffic had decreased on the interstate. He’d feel a lot better if there were more vehicles traveling. Where are you Guthrie? I know you’re out there, somewhere.

The
deafening silence in the cab, made Carson sleepy. He wanted to turn the radio on but Trish and Jamie were asleep and he didn’t want to disturb them. He hadn’t had any sleep in over thirty hours and his body wanted to shut down. Glancing at Amy beside him in the front seat, she had her head against the passenger window on one of the pillows. Her eyes were closed but she awoke with every sudden movement of the truck. His loin’s ached for her. How could he have such a strong bond with someone he had known for a short period of time?

Carson kept forcing his eyes open. They were heavy from lack of sleep. He needed to pull over and rest for an hour but cou
ldn’t take the chance on Guthrie catching them. Glancing in his rearview mirror, he noticed headlights approaching at a high rate of speed.
Idiot.
He thought as he became more alert.
Don’t they know cops don’t sleep and the roads are slick?
The car came up fast behind his truck. It didn’t seem to be changing lanes or slowing down. Too late, Carson realized the driver aimed his vehicle at them and intended to rear-end his truck.

“Amy
, hold on,” he yelled loud enough to wake the sisters.

Carson gripped the steering wheel
and pressed the accelerator. The truck zoomed into passing gear. The speed odometer rose to seventy, then eighty just before the car hit the back of his truck, shoving the rear end to the right and a deep ravine beside the highway.

Fighting for control, Carson let off of the accelerator and turned the steering wheel toward the edge of the road even though the drop-off
could kill them all. He had to stop the spin so the truck wouldn’t turn over. The wheels spewed snow and gravel from the edge of the road as the truck hit a mile marker sign and the front end eased back on the pavement and straightened out. Pressing on the gas, the truck tires found traction and again headed down the interstate.

“What happened?” Amy’s voice quivered.

Carson glanced at her. “Someone hit us.”

“Do you think
Martin found—.”

“
Not Martin; Guthrie.” Carson didn’t let her finish, keeping his voice low. “We need to get off this interstate now that he knows where we are.”

“Mommy,
” Trish whimpered.

“Shh, bab
y. It’s okay. Go back to sleep.” Jamie unbuckled and leaned over the front seat. “What happened?”

“Someone rear-ended us,
” Amy answered.

Before
Jamie could sit back and buckle her seat belt, a crash came from the rear and the truck jumped forward. Jamie screamed. Trish started to cry. Carson kept the truck from skidding out of control by pressing on the gas. Metal hitting metal screeched like chalk on a chalkboard and the truck fishtailed, sending them into a half spin. Another crash and the rear truck bed bounced around and faced the opposite direction on the interstate. Carson heard Amy gasp and glanced over to see her gripping her shoulder.

“Are you all right?” h
e spun the truck around to face east.

Amy hesitated. “I think so.
My arm smashed into the door.”

“H
ang on. I don’t think it’s over,” Carson scanned the rearview mirror.

Jamie
screamed when another impact caused the rear to spin out of control. Tires squealed when the trucks backside slid in a circle on the pavement.

Carson steered toward the skid, straightened the truck out and stomped the gas lunging the truck in the opposite
direction again on the interstate. In the headlights he spotted a flat, smooth part of the media and steered the truck across to the west bound lane. The truck bounced and slid in the snow, knocking everyone around inside the cab as they crossed to the other side. When the truck’s tires hit the solid pavement on the opposite side of the highway, Carson floored the dually. Topping a hill, he checked his rear-view mirror and didn’t see car lights. Flipping the switch to turn off his headlights, Carson passed the first exit sign and took the second. They would have to travel the back roads to Texas.

A loud noise coming from the rear of the truck cau
sed Carson concern. Spotting an Exxon ahead, he pulled over. “I need to see what’s causing that sound.” Opening the glove box, he retrieved a flashlight and stepped out. Walking to the rear where the truck had been hit, he found the fender caved in enough to rub the tire. Placing one foot on the tire, he grabbed the fender with both hands and pulled. The fender moved enough to stop any more damage. His hand knocked something off from under the fender when he pulled. A tiny metal object hit the pavement. Shining the light around, he located a tiny metal disc. On closer examination, Carson recognized the disc as a tracking device. He had used them in the past but had never had one used on him. Max had placed it on his truck. Slinging the disc into the field beside the station, he hopped back inside.

“Look in the console and get the Atlas out. We’ve got to find another route.”

“Don’t you have GPS?”

“Yes but it will only give you the main
highways. I want to use back roads.”

Carson flipped the interior light on and Amy spread the map on the seat between them. A whiff of her shampoo caught him by surprise as they
concentrated on the map. She glanced up and a vague sensuous light passed between them. He raised his hand to caress her cheek. She cleared her throat and looked back at the map, breaking their connection. “We can go north to Casper and take Highway 220 to Highway 287 south to I-80.”

Carson
sat up and started the truck. “Good. We won’t have to stop for fuel. I had duel tanks installed earlier this year and they’re both full. As soon as people start waking up, we’ll stop at a dealership and trade vehicles. With the dents in this one, they’ll keep it in
the back and no one
will see it.” He looked at Amy. Her eyes were wide and her hands trembled when she folded the Atlas. Carson patted her hand. “We’ll be fine, Amy. Don’t worry. Do you think you can drive for an hour or so?”

****

Amy glanced over at the man slumped over the steering wheel with his face toward her. The beautiful blue eyes that had attracted her were blood-shot and had dark circles underneath. He had been awake a lot longer than she had. At least she had cat napped a couple of times before Max tried to run them off the road. “Yes.”

Carson opened his door and walked
around the truck. Amy scooted across the seat and slid behind the wheel. After adjusting the seat to fit her shorter legs, she waited until Carson had settled in the passenger seat and buckled up before she shifted into drive. Pulling out onto the road, Amy stretched her right arm. Throbbing pain ripped through it. Her medical training told her she probably had a fracture. God, she hoped not.

Within
five minutes, Carson’s steady, even breathing let her know he had gone to sleep. He must be exhausted. Both Jamie and Trish had had gone back to sleep. She had her own thoughts for company.

The lights in
front of the truck reflected the tiny snowflakes. It hadn’t started coming down hard enough to use the wipers yet. She prayed it wouldn’t. She didn’t know if she could find the button to turn them on in this monster of a truck. It had gauges and dials her Mustang didn’t have. Checking the blinker switch attached to the steering wheel, it turned and the dash lights dimmed. She flipped buttons until locating the wipers. Now she had to concentrate on keeping the huge truck between the yellow lines.

She turned south-east on Highway
287. It wouldn’t be long before they reached I-80. She hoped their plan worked and they confused Guthrie. It would make a lot more miles than necessary but if they lost him, it would be worth it. If he hit them again, Amy would crash the truck. She wasn’t as experienced at handling the truck as Carson.

Carson. Just the thought of him sent a
warm fuzzy sensation up and down her body. Her heart fluttered when they were going over the map and the spark between them set her body on fire. She had to break that connection or they would have ended up making out in the front seat. Why hadn’t he married? Had he been married? Is he a confirmed bachelor? Does he have a girlfriend? She didn’t know anything about him except that he’s a Texas Ranger and owns a quarter horse ranch. Or did he? He had deceived her once, maybe he lied about the ranch, too. Where would they be living while in protective custody? Who would be assigned to guard them? It probably wouldn’t be Carson. But in case he did take on the task she could learn more about him. She would like that. Even his deception could be forgiven.

Amy gl
anced at the clock on the dash. Almost five in the morning. A few more hours and she would find a dealership. She didn’t know what make of vehicle Carson wanted, but a Dodge would be her pick for him, since he owned one.

Dark clouds covered the
morning sun keeping the dawn at bay. A strong wind blew the snow across the highway causing less and less visibility. Desperate, Amy turned the wipers on high to keep the windshield clear. The drifting snow piled on top of snow that had already covered the road. Her eyes ached from straining to see the yellow line in the center. Amy spotted a sign for I-80 and slowed the vehicle. Checking her rearview mirror, an eighteen wheeler approached but no other cars were on the road. Relief washed over her as she turned on the blinker and eased onto the ramp leading to the interstate. Picking up speed, she hit the cruise control and let the truck take over. A sharp pain seared up her neck when she flexed her arm.

“Ouch.” She whimpered.

“What’s wrong with your arm?” Carson broke the silence in the cab.

Amy jumped
. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Carson sat up an
d moved the pillow. “You didn’t answer. What happened to your arm?”

Amy tried to flex but the pain grew stronger.
“I hit it on the door when we were rammed. It’s just sore, I think.”

Carson looked out the front window. “Is this Rowlins?”

“Yes. I just got on the interstate.”

“Take the downtown exit and we’ll get that arm checked and
see about trading cars. When did it start snowing again?”

“It picked up a few miles back.”

****

Max jumped when the monitor on the seat beside him beeped. Hidden under the cover of trees at exit
321, he glanced at the high tech piece of equipment. It had located one of the trackers at the Exxon back up the road. Carson hadn’t found the other one. The steady beeping became louder as the Dodge carrying the other disc grew closer. Max grinned and blew the smoke from his cigarette out the cracked window. They weren’t far from him now.

When h
e hit them earlier, his headlights were knocked. He couldn’t afford to get pulled over and get searched. With the arsenal of firearms and suitcase full of fake ID’s he’d go straight to jail. Renting a car back in Casper had been one of his better moves. Carson would be looking for the black SUV. Besides, the Tundra would be a good match against the Dodge one ton. On the interstate, he got the truck to hit a hundred and ten. Not bad for a smaller truck. His fingers drummed out a beat on the steering wheel. Where are they? The beeper now sounded like one long buzz and the noise played havoc on Max’s nerves. He wanted to pitch it out the window. He peered through his binoculars at every passing truck on the interstate. Ten minutes went by before he spotted them taking the Rawlins exit. Breaking all speed limits from Casper, he had traveled I-25 down to intersect with I-80 and beat them here. Somehow he knew they would wind up at the interstate. He didn’t know they would be stopping in Rawlins. Maybe they needed gas. Max smiled. I’m always a step ahead, he patted himself own the back. When he had his hands on that suitcase full of money, he would leave the country. He’d probably never have to work again if the bag had as much in it as he suspected.