The Last One (3 page)

He skimmed his eyes down me, raking over my deep auburn curls, tight black shirt and short denim skirt. He shook his head.

“Whatever makes you happy, darlin’. But listen, you be careful out there. Nice folks around here, but lots of out-of-towners here tonight. Stick close to your friend here.” He nodded at Laura.

“Thanks. Will do.” I turned in my seat and took a long drink, scanning the crowd. There was a wide variety of people, with some guys in cowboys hats and others in khakis and polo shirts. Girls in skirts as short as mine hung on men or chatted with friends. Up on a small stage, a group of musicians in jeans and flannel were unpacking instruments and setting up mics.

Across the room, a guy sitting at a table with three of his friends caught my eye. He wore jeans and a gray t-shirt with his ancient-looking boots. He was drinking a long-neck, and a slow smile spread across his face as he looked me up and down. I kept my gaze on him as I brought my glass to my lips.

“See that guy over there?” I spoke to Laura without looking at her, maintaining the eye-lock with Mr. Sexy Cowboy. “Once the music starts, he’s going to be over here, asking me to dance. Want to lay a bet on it?”

“Nah.” She shook her head. “No way. There’s smolder in those eyes, baby. I think you caught yourself a live one. So what are you planning to do with him?’

I smiled, sipped my drink and pulled my shirt a little tighter. “Anything I want.”

THE ROADS BETWEEN KENNY’S Diner and my house were dark and empty. I didn’t drive them this late if I could help it, but I never missed a Burton Guild meeting, either. The talk tonight had run long, not because we had any exciting new business to discuss, but because old men liked to spin yarns. And even though all of them were at least twenty years older than me, I had enough respect to sit and listen until Kenny shooed us out so he could close up.

I kept one hand tight on the wheel and clicked on my cell phone, hitting speaker button since Georgia had a strict law about using cell phones while driving, and Ali was even more of a stickler about it.

Her phone rang on without an answer. It didn’t surprise me; she was probably still trying to get Bridget to sleep. Either that, or she’d laid down after reading to her, and they’d both fallen asleep. Bridge was seven and the smartest little girl I’d ever known, but she’d always had an issue with her sleep. The pediatrician called it delayed sleep onset disorder or something like that. He said she’d outgrow it, but meanwhile, Ali kept experimenting with different home remedies. The latest was reading her daughter the driest, most boring books we could find. Only problem was, the books put Ali to sleep faster than they did Bridget.

I left a brief message on her voice mail and then tossed the phone back onto the seat next to me. Rounding the curve just before Nelson Road, the headlights of the truck swept over a small blue car, pulled precariously onto the shoulder. I slammed on my brakes, startled.

“Shit.” The back of the truck fishtailed as I swerved, just missing the rear of the other car. I maneuvered off the road, pulling about ten feet in front of it. Turning in my seat, I could just make out the silhouette of a girl leaning of the hood on the car, her head bent.

Cursing old men who like to talk too much, thus putting me in the position of having to help some idiotic female who didn’t know how to deal with an automobile, I flipped on my hazards, jumped out of the cab of the truck and slammed the door.

The girl glanced up as I approached, and I saw she was holding a cell phone. When I got close enough, she held it up.

“I’ve called for help. People know where I am. The police are on their way.” There was a quiver in her voice, and I realized that she was scared of me. Well, yeah. Here we were on a lonely back road, and I come at her like I’m loaded for bear. I swallowed my irritation and tried to think how I would feel if it were Ali in this position.

Only she wouldn’t be, because I keep her car in good shape and she knows better than to drive deserted roads at midnight.

“Okay.” I held up both hands. “I’m only here to help. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.”

She made a sound of derision, somewhere between “Yeah, sure” and “Pbbbt.” “Because the murderer-rapist is always kind enough to announce his intentions.”

She had a point. “All right. Well, here’s the deal. I don’t know who you called, but no one in Burton is going to be coming out here tonight. If you got in touch with your auto service, they might make it before dawn. Maybe. But there’s only one mechanic around here, and he’s closed, for sure. So why don’t you let me take a look at it for you? If it makes you feel better, you can get back into the car and lock the door before I get any closer. And keep your cell handy, of course.”

She eyed me suspiciously. I could see caution battling with a sense of self-preservation—the part of her that didn’t want to spend the night alone on the side of this road—and that part won.

“Okay. Come look at it. Please.” She didn’t move to get back in the car, and I had to give her points for gumption.

“Can you pop the hood for me? And what happened? Did it make it noise or just quit running?”

“It made some kind of weird whining sound, and then all the warning lights came on and started flashing, and then it just kind of ... died.” She opened the driver’s side door and leaned in to find the hood latch.

“Hey, listen, turn on your flashers while you’re there, too, okay? I don’t expect anyone else to be coming this way, but you never know. And you’re right on the bad side of the curve.”

She complied, and soon we were both bathed in intermittent yellow light. I leaned under the hood, holding my phone’s flashlight down to see what was happening.

“Do you live around here?” The girl was thawing out a little, though I noticed she still kept her phone clenched in her hand. Smart.

“Yeah, about fifteen minutes down the road. I had a meeting in town tonight, though, which is why I happened to be coming past here.” I lifted my head to take a closer look at her. She was wearing those tight legging things Ali sometimes wore to exercise, and over them, a bright red dress. It didn’t go very far down, but still, she didn’t look trashy. She was short, with long blonde hair that was piled on top of her head, making her look like one of the pixies Bridge loved to watch on TV.

“I’m thinking you’re not from this area, are you? What were you doing out here, if you don’t mind me asking?” I lifted an eyebrow.

She sighed, long and loud. “My friend and I came down to go to the new bar that just opened outside town. We’re both students in Savannah.”

I frowned at her as I stood up. “What happened to your friend? Did she—or he—ditch you at the bar?”

“No.” She made the single syllable emphatic. “
She
is sitting right there in the car.” She pointed through the windshield.

I stepped to the left, and sure enough, I could see a body slumped in the passenger seat. “Is she okay?”

The blonde girl sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, she’s just sleeping it off. Too much rum. She knew she had a designated driver, and so she might have gone just a little overboard.”

“I’ll say,” I muttered. “So what you’re looking at here is a bad serpentine belt. Needs to be replaced before you can drive it.”

“Oh, that’s just peachy.” Frustration filled her voice. “What the hell am I supposed to do about that?”

I leaned my hip against the car, my hand on the top of the raised hood. “Well, the mechanic in town is a good guy. He can get you fixed up.”

“But how am I supposed to get it there?” She twisted her fingers, and for the first time, I saw the glint of a ring on her left hand.

“I can help you with that part.” I disengaged the hood prop and let it slam. “I have a winch and chain on my truck. I’ll take it into town.”

Hope blossomed on her face. “I can’t ask you to do that. I don’t even know your name.”

I stuck out my hand. “Sam Reynolds. And you didn’t ask, I offered.”

She took my hand in a firm grip and shook it. “Laura Swanson. Thanks. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come along.”

I glanced at the figure in the car. “Is there someone you can call to come get you once we drop off the car?”

“Yeah, there’s—shit. No. All our friends went to this big party in town tonight. I doubt any of them are sober enough to drive.” She chewed on her lip. “Is there some place we can stay? A hotel?”

“Not in town. Closest is going to be at least half an hour away.”

“Great. Just perfect.”

I mulled over the situation. I figured I was a pretty good judge of character, and it seemed like this girl was on the level. I thought of Ali again and spoke.

“Boomer—he’s the mechanic—he’s got a few loaners that he lets us use when he’s working on our cars. Nothing fancy, but it’ll get you back to the city.”

Laura seemed to sag in relief. “Okay. And you’re sure it would be okay for us to borrow it? I can leave a credit card or some cash—” She glanced into the car, thinking about her handbag, I guessed.

“Nah, you don’t have to do that. I’ll vouch for you.” I pointed at my truck. “I’m going to back up closer, so you might want to get in the car for the time being. Wouldn’t want to hit you by mistake.”

She nodded, and I jogged over to climb into the cab. Turning around to watch behind me, I eased back until the tail of the truck was a few feet away from the Honda. When I got out and began retrieving the chains, Laura joined me again. She watched in silence as I worked.

“You must live pretty far out in the country.”

I looked up at her, sitting on the edge of the bumper, her arms crossed. “Yeah.” I attached the chain to the chassis of the car. “Got a farm down the road.”

“Hmm.” She was twisting her ring again. “Is the serpent belt—”

“Serpentine,” I corrected.

“Okay, is that going to cost a lot?”

I shrugged, struggling to my feet. “Shouldn’t be bad.”

“Meghan’s usually good about taking care of her car. She’s going to be pissed.”

“This is her car?” I jerked my chin toward the front seat.

“Yeah. Mine is much older. It’s my boyfriend’s, actually, but he’s overseas.” She smiled, and through the pride I saw a little wobble of strain. “He’s a Marine.”

I was never sure how to respond when someone told me that. “
Hoo-
ah!” seemed a little weird, seeing as I’d never been in the military. Sometimes I fell into the lame “Thank you for your service.” But now, seeing the hint of worry in Laura’s eyes, I didn’t have to stop and think. “That must be hard on you.”

“Yeah.” She held out her hand in front of her, looking down at the ring. “It is, but it’s part of the package, you know? Brian always wanted to be in the Corps, so it wasn’t a shock. It’s part of who he is, and I wouldn’t change that.” Even in the dark, with only the blinking lights on her face, I could see the love in her eyes. It almost made me feel like I was missing something. I shook it off and finished tightening up the connection.

“Okay, I think we’re set here. You’ll have to ride in the truck with me. And we’ll need to get your friend in there, too.”

“That ought to be interesting.” Laura stood up and opened the passenger door. I watched her lean in and shake the sleeping girl’s shoulder. She finally stirred, and I saw her twist to look up.

“Meghan, come on. The car broke down, and this nice guy is helping us out. You’ve got to ride in the truck.”

I moved closer, thinking they might need a hand. The dome light from the ceiling illuminated a pale face, bleary green eyes and dark red hair that looked like it might have been pulled back at some point tonight. Now it was messed up, hanging over one shoulder.

“What?” The girl blinked at her friend.

“The car needs a new belt. We broke down. You need to stand up and let me help you to the truck.” Laura bent further over and unlatched the seat belt.

Meghan was trying to pull her legs out of the car, but she was moving slowly, as though stuck in quicksand. Laura helped her to her feet, where she swayed for a minute, making me wonder if she was about to pass out. I grabbed one arm while Laura looped the other over her own shoulder. Together we stumbled our way to the truck.