The Line Between by Tosca Lee

Author:Tosca Lee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Howard Books

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

* * *

A few of the locals wrestle Lizard Man into a locked closet because no one knows how long it’ll take the sheriff’s department to get here.

“Dispatcher said it could be an hour before the sheriff can come take your statements,” the guy at the counter says after locking the man’s gun in the store safe and donning a fresh pair of gloves.

But that’s exactly fifty-nine minutes longer than I want to stick around.

“I need a mechanic,” I say.

He shakes his head. “Gone.”

“Is there anyone nearby?” I say.

“Closest you’ll find is Council Bluffs.”

But that won’t help me.

I shove out the door to find the hood of the Lexus propped open and Jeep Guy leaning out over the grill to peer down into the guts of the car. He’s switched out the latex for a pair of work gloves that go far better with his thick brown jacket. I wonder if he works on a farm or something, though I’ve never seen a farmer drive a Jeep.

“Straight into the radiator,” he says. “Surprised your engine didn’t shut down.”

“So . . . what does it need?”

He laughs. “A new radiator.”

“Where do I get one?”

“Well, for this fancy soccer mom model—”

“It isn’t mine,” I say quickly.

“Stolen, huh?”

“No, it’s not stolen!” I say, insulted.

It kind of is.

“No one here’s going to have what you need. Or be able to order it anytime soon.”

“What about Council Bluffs?”

He shakes his head. “You’re not gonna make it that far before your engine shuts down. And nothing’s going to be open anyway.”

I turn away, fingers clasped over my head, as the last twenty-four hours catches up to me. Getting Jaclyn back only to lose her. Leaving Julie and Lauren. Ken. Truly. Having gone so long now without sleep that I can’t think straight. What am I doing?

And I don’t know what I’m in danger of most: crying or laughing in that way people do when they’re on the verge of a breakdown.

I don’t dare do either. Not in public, lest I end up in a truck stop broom closet. Desperation churns the pit of my stomach. I cannot stay here. I have to get to Colorado.

“Can I ride with you?” I blurt.

He gives me a wary, sidelong glance. “You don’t even know where I’m headed.”

“You’ve been going west for the last fifty miles. If you were headed south, you would’ve taken 35 from Des Moines.”

“Maybe I’m going north.”

“Are you going west or not?”

He lowers his head with a sigh.

“I have food,” I say. “Water. A gas can I can fill up here. Money. I can pay you!”

He turns his head to look at me. “I could be a serial killer for all you know.”

“Do serial killers usually point that out?”

He straightens up and drops the hood of the Lexus. Cocking a brow, he asks, “Are you trying to pick me up?”

“What—no!”

“I mean, we did have a moment back there.”

“No, we didn’t. We had no moment. But I still need that ride.”

He blows out a sigh, scratches the back of his neck.

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