Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Michelle couldn’t think too much about the trooper’s question. If she did, she’d scream that she wasn’t okay, but that wasn’t what she needed to say. Taking a deep breath, she replied, “Just upset about our grandpa and my purse.”
Again, the trooper nodded. “Can’t shake that I’ve seen you or your picture. You’re not a runaway?”
Michelle scoffed. “I guess I have one of those faces. Redheads all look alike.” She feigned a smile. “I’m not a runaway. I’m almost thirty.”
He waved his hand. “My shift’s about over. Move along and we’ll call it a day.”
“Thank you, Officer,” Fletch said. He waited a moment before rolling up the window.
In the rearview mirror, he watched until the state trooper got into his car and turned off the overhead red and blue lights before he started the car.
“Shit, Shelly,” he said in a low growl as he pulled the car back onto the country road.
“Less is fucking more. Our grandfather is in the hospital? I was half expecting you to go into his diagnosis. Will Grandpa make it?”
“Well, he’s had heart issues for years. Grandma’s cooking has about done him in.
High fat and cholesterol. We’ve been telling them for years to eat oatmeal instead of fried eggs and bacon every morning.
And now, they have to do a bypass procedure after that incident a few days ago.
” She laid her hand on her chest. “Thank goodness he listened to Grandma and went to the doctor.” She smiled.
“How did you come up with the name of a hospital?”
Despite his stress, Fletch laughed. It was a full-force belly laugh. “When you lie, you need to remember your lie. The hospital is real.”
“I make up stories for a living. Although, I almost forgot my name.”
He nodded. “I was about to say it.”
“Do I have a fake ID too?”
“No. You were supposed to be home, tucked in bed right now.”
She sighed, turning toward the window.
Fletch continued, “I have a reservation at a hotel outside Peoria under another name. It’s best to travel at night and sleep during the day.”
“How do you know this?”
“Common sense. There’s another vehicle waiting near the hotel. We’ll take off in that after we get a few hours’ sleep.” He pulled the car back onto the highway. “We should lie low. If that trooper thought he recognized you, that could mean that IMPD or Iron Falls has an APB out on you.”
Michelle turned toward him, her lips agape. “You have reservations in another name? This is insane. How many names do you have? Who are you? What do you do?”
“The same thing your parents did.” He exhaled.
Michelle tried to see beyond the car windows, yet the conversation inside the car was too intense to leave even in thought. “You’re telling me that my parents were some kind of spies.” She laughed. “That’s impossible.”
“I can’t tell you any more. Not yet.” His lips curled. “All I can ask is that you trust me.” He reached toward her, laying his palm upward.
She looked at him skeptically. “Did my parents trust you?”
“Denny did. I never knew Tracy.”
Michelle took a deep breath before she laid her hand in his larger one and closed her fingers around his. “I trust you.”
His smile shone in his black eyes as his inked fingers encased hers. “Then we’re in this together.”
It wasn’t a question, and Michelle wasn’t sure what this was, but at the moment, her decision felt right. “I guess we are.”
A few miles later Fletch took the exit and pulled the car into a space near a large truck stop. “Stay in the car.”
“I need to use the bathroom.”
His nostrils flared as he reached into the back seat and grabbed his stocking cap. “Put this on. We need to alter your appearance. Your hair is memorable, and we don’t know about the APB yet.”
Michelle pulled the cap over her hair. Using the mirror on the back of the visor, she shoved rogue orange curls under the material and turned toward Fletch and lifted an eyebrow. “Is this sufficient?”
He cupped her cheeks, bringing their faces close. “Listen to me. This isn’t a game. The goal is to go unnoticed.”
“Not a problem. I’m mostly unnoticed.”
Fletch shook his head. “That’s not true.” He nodded toward her bag. “Do you have sunglasses?”
“Seriously? The sun isn’t up.”
“Do you?” His voice was sterner than a second before.
She dug down into her bag, finding a pair of sunglasses. “Yes, sir.”
“Keep your head down. Go straight to the bathroom and back out. Don’t shop or talk to anyone.”
She wanted to argue that she wasn’t a child and didn’t need all the warnings. Yet her age was irrelevant when it came to whatever they were doing. Fletch was right; this wasn’t a game. “Just so you know, you’re freaking me out.”
“Good.” He opened the driver’s door, got out, and walked around the car.
As Michelle got out of the car, she heard him curse. “What’s the matter?”
“The cop was right. I need to find out if they have a flat repair kit and get some air in this tire.”
Keeping her face down and stuffing her hands into the pockets of her coat, Michelle entered the truck stop through the large glass doors and quickly scanned the interior.
At this early hour, it was still relatively busy.
There was a mother with three children near the donuts, an older woman near the coffee, and a man at the counter buying a pack of cigarettes.
Michelle did a double take, making sure he wasn’t her assailant from the night before.
He wasn’t.
She spotted the sign for the restrooms off to the left. Doing her best to avoid other people, her pulse increased with each step. By the time she entered the ladies’ restroom, her palms were damp with perspiration.
In the mirror under the bathroom’s bright illumination, Michelle saw a greenish color around her lips. Bruises were also getting more colorful on her wrists. As she was washing her hands an older woman entered, pausing at the sight of Michelle’s sunglasses and bruised lips.
“Are you okay?”
Michelle played it off, relying on her creativity.
“Horrible headache. Probably should blame it on the cheap wine last night.” She didn’t wait for a response as she hurried out of the restroom with freshly washed hands still dripping.
Unwilling to take the time to dry them, she wiped them on her yoga pants.
As she hurried through the store, a stand filled with burner phones caught Michelle’s attention.
The one Fletch gave her only had the capacity to call and text.
She saw other prepaid smartphones, advertising full internet access via cellular data or Wi-Fi.
If she purchased one, she might be able find out what happened at her house.
What type of incendiary device had Fletch set?
Was the house destroyed? Maybe she could learn if there was an APB out on her.
This brought more questions. How would she pay for it? Her credit cards were destroyed in her father’s house. She had a little bit of cash that she’d had on hand, but it wouldn’t last forever.
Michelle startled at the sound of Fletch clearing his throat as he walked past her.
Exhaling, she walked away without a new phone and made her way out to the car.
When Fletch returned, he handed her one of the smart phones and a cup of coffee. “Cream and sugar,” he said. “I remember you saying the way you like your coffee.”
“Thanks.” She took the coffee and the phone.
“I’ll set the phone up once we’re in the hotel. Don’t do anything with it yet. As soon as I patch this tire and add some air, we’ll be on the road.”
Michelle nodded and sighed as he closed the door. It was comforting that he remembered her coffee preference. But really, how could she be comfortable with a man she’d just met, one who claimed to burn her home and who was taking her to the unknown?
After repairing the tire and filling it with air, Fletch sat behind the steering wheel. “We should make it to our hotel before nine. It’s about another two hours.”
“Thanks for the coffee. I can repay you.” She shrugged. “I brought the cash I had on hand.”
The tips of his lips curled upward. “Don’t worry about that.”
Heading west, the sun was bright enough for Michelle to continue wearing the sunglasses.
Traffic picked up as commuters rushed to their jobs and large trucks continued their drives.
Lack of sleep, combined with the waning adrenaline, found Michelle having difficulty keeping her eyes open.
She was nodding off as Fletch tuned into a true-crime podcast. It was Crime Daily Podcast, hosted by two women, Kenzi and Ali.
It was one of many podcasts she’d listened to off and on for research.
Michelle was almost asleep when she heard something that sparked her interest—her name.
“…Michelle Holdcraft, the author.”