Chapter Thirty
Bree
The early evening light was right in the salesman's eyes as he waved at us from across the small used car lot. We'd hiked all the way from the motel and just made it before they closed. Nathan headed straight for another old junker. I stopped in my tracks.
"We shouldn't let him think we're together. The cops are going to be looking for a couple," I said.
Nathan tipped his hat at me and kept strolling away. I turned and went over to a more modern coupe with a sunroof.
"Now that's a beauty. You should call your husband over and we can talk deals," the salesman said. He could see me well enough to look down my shirt but he still had to squint again the sunset.
"My husband?" I looked at Nathan over the salesman's shoulder and laughed. "I'm not married. I'm single."
The salesman caught my hand and held it too long after we shook. "Well, then, how about I take you out for a ride in something a little sportier? See if I can't rev up your engine."
Nathan circled closer, one hand clenched in a fist. I flipped my hair in an attempt to wave him away. "Nah, I'm interested in this one," I told the salesman.
"Then I can give you a great price," he said. "Though a hot piece like you should be in something with air conditioning."
The salesman tried to slip his arm around me but I sidestepped him. "I'll take the low price; my brother can fix the air conditioning."
He had the paperwork and his phone number ready for me in no time. There wasn't even a problem with me paying in cash after I'd wriggled a little closer and laughed at his jokes.
I almost ran Nathan over when I pulled out of the used car parking lot. "There you are," I said.
"So, I'm your brother now?" Nathan slammed the passenger side door.
"I had to tell him something. Otherwise, he'd wonder why I was picking the cheapest car on the lot and paying in cash," I said.
"Fine, but you didn't need to let him paw all over you." Nathan flexed and clenched his fist again.
I laughed. "Jealous?"
He unknotted his fist and grabbed my knee. "Nope."
I glanced at him. "You seem awfully sure of yourself."
Nathan leaned back, his hand still stroking my knee. "I am. And I can fix the air conditioning."
I wanted to laugh and keep teasing him, but we pulled up to our old motel. The other car, the ones the cops saw, was tucked in the back parking lot. I took a deep breath and drove in slowly. I pulled into a spot a few cars down from the rusted sedan and shut off the engine.
We waited a full three minutes before Nathan reached for the passenger door handle. He looked out of every window, checked each mirror, and then waited another thirty seconds. Nothing changed, only the light slipping away.
He got out and slipped into the old sedan before the streetlight blinked on over the parking lot. Then he pulled out of the spot and cruised past me, stopping just long enough to blow me a kiss.
We'd fought about who would drive that car. The cops saw it and had to have the license plate numbers. Whoever drove it could be picked up at any time. At first, Nathan wanted me to take it. He figured if the cops got me, it was my last out. Otherwise, we were going ahead with his plan.
I refused.
So, he was driving. We both knew he would risk a high-throttle chase before getting caught, and no one liked speed more than a jet pilot. Every mile we drove, I hoped it wouldn't come to that.
It was a small relief when we hit the small town Nathan had marked on a map. We were high up in the Rocky Mountains, and it was the last place with gas. That meant it was the last place with security cameras. Nathan drove straight in and made sure they saw him.
I, on the other hand, stuffed a hat on my head and put on a pair of large sunglasses.
I couldn't breathe until we were back on the road but my anxiety doubled as soon as we got back on the main route. A state patrol car was snaking through the two-lane traffic. He merged right behind Nathan and rode close to his bumper.
Then Nathan slowed down and the gap closed. I was two cars back and hyperventilating in my humid car. Why wasn't he trying to keep his license plate numbers out of range?
The state patrol car swerved out from behind Nathan and gunned past him on the left. Nathan had taken a gamble on the patrolman's impatience and had distracted him with his slow driving.
Nathan was smart but I wished he wasn't gambling with the rest of our lives.
I was so tense that the next three towns were a blur. We stopped in places where the sedan and Nathan could be seen, trying to leave a trail for the police to follow. I remembered the tourist trap because Nathan won a stuffed big foot in a crane game. He tossed it in the window of my car before we moved on.
Then there was the shack of a bar. I waited, slumped over in my stifling car, while Nathan went inside and pretended to get drunk. I was just starting to feel jealous when a large man with a spiked black leather belt hauled Nathan outside. He waited, with his tree trunk arms crossed, while Nathan stumbled into the rusted old sedan and drove away.
By the time we got to the last small town, I was starved. "My pick this time," I said.
Nathan and I met up in the middle of Main Street and walked together to the grill I had spotted. "Might want to get your food to go," he said.
I walked straight up to the bar and ordered two meals, while Nathan found a back booth. There was a fine line between getting noticed and getting caught, and I hoped we could walk it long enough. Luckily, the waitress' mind was hundreds of miles away. She kept texting someone and swearing over the time change.
"Did she even noticed we're together or did she really think you were going to eat two fried chicken specials?" Nathan asked.
I swatted his arm. "She'll notice when she delivers the food and we immediately ask for to-go boxes."
"And you're sure this place has a surveillance system?" Nathan looked at the shabby decor with a doubtful sniff.
"Aimed at the parking lot. The sedan should be front and center on the footage," I said.
The food smelled heavenly but it wasn't part of the plan. The waitress did a double-take when we asked for the to-go boxes. She watched us even more carefully when we appeared to panic and got out of there too fast.
"Damn, those last meals smell good," Nathan said. He peeled out of the parking lot as soon as I jumped in the old sedan.
"What'd you want me to order? Liver and onions? They had it on the menu," I said.
Nathan took a hairpin curve just a little too fast. "It's just a shame to waste it."
I yanked the bag of food out of his reach. "We need the food to sell it. They'll find the food and trace us back to that grill."
"Just one bite," Nathan pleaded. "I at least get a last bite, right?"
"Stop. It's not like we're really dying." I popped my mouth shut and bit my lip.
Nathan's smile disappeared. "This is your last out, you know," he told me. "You can still get back to your old life."
"You can't do this alone. We're in this together, remember?"
He took his eyes off the dangerously curvy road and pleaded with me. "I'm flattered that you're willing to go through this for me, but you don't have to. I'm not that good of man. Christ, Bree, think about what we found in that safety deposit box. Cocaine, cash, and a gun. I'm not worth it."
I turned to face him despite the dips and curves the car had to make. "That's where you're wrong, Nathan."
"Be smart, Bree. Please," he said.
"You're worth it," I said. It took everything I had to censor myself and change the subject. "Besides, you don't know me. I've screwed up my life in ways you can't imagine. My own sister never wants to see me again."
"That doesn't mean she wants you dead, Bree."
We took another corner just a little too fast, and I had to hang on to the dashboard. "I was all alone, working in a truck stop diner in Topeka. I messed up every good chance I was ever given."
Nathan shook his head. "There's still time. Maybe you need to get back to your old life and fix things. That's a chance you don't want to miss. You won't get it if you come with me the rest of the way."
"I have to come," I said.
"I know it's scary. You'll have thousands of questions to answer, but it will blow over eventually. It won't for me. So, I'm begging you, Bree, take this chance before it's too late." Nathan started to slow the car and aim for the next pull-out.
I clung to my seat. "No. Keep going. I said we were in this together, and I meant it. Please don't let this be another thing that I screw up."
Nathan pulled the car over and stopped. "This is as good a place as any. Bree, are you sure?"
I nodded and scrambled to get out of the car before I told Nathan the real reason. Now was not the time to tell him I loved him.
Nathan got out, too, and took one last, longing look at the bag of fried chicken. "Such a shame," he said.
We moved to the back of the car and put our hands on the bumper. Then Nathan stood up and backed off.
"What? What is it now?" I asked.
"It's a long walk back to that grill," Nathan said.
I shook my head. "We're going to hike down, stay off the road as much as possible. It'll be hard but we can do it."
"Bree, this really is your last chance," Nathan said.
I started to push and the rusted old sedan rolled forward. It was hard and I strained but then Nathan was beside me. We pushed hard and the car picked up speed. Then Nathan caught my arm and we skidded to a stop.
The car rolled faster down the shoulder of the steep road and then careened over the sharp edge. It crashed and flipped over, landing in a burst of dust and debris on the switchback below us. Thank god it continued across and caught in the trees on the other side of the road. No one would get hurt crashing into it as they drove around the hairpin turn.
Then the old sedan caught on fire. Now there was no way anyone would miss our crashed car.
Nathan handed me a windbreaker from our bag and got ready for the steep hike ahead.
I stood at the edge of the road and looked down on the wreckage. The saddest part about my supposed death was that I had no family to mourn me. I wondered what my sister would think when she heard the news but anything I imagined was too painful.
I dove into the underbrush behind Nathan, glad to leave my old wreck of a life behind.