Decoded. Debra Webb

they needed to be. He’d kept to the woods until they were near the on-ramp. His instincts nudged him with the urge to run, but he resisted. Maggie couldn’t run anymore. They stayed close to the fence, trudging through the knee-deep weeds.

      “If you spot any headlights, get down,” Slade warned.

      “Will the police be looking for us?”

      It sounded like hope in her tone. “Yep.”

      “We can’t explain what happened and get their help?”

      That would seem like the logical thing to do if he were living in a fantasy world. “It’s not the police we need to be afraid of.”

      She hurried a little faster. “If we have nothing to fear from them, why can’t they help us?”

      “The police can’t protect us, Maggie.”

      She stopped. “I need you to explain that part.”

      Slade admitted defeat on the issue and turned around. “Fine. It’s not like we’re in a hurry or anything.” If he hadn’t blown a few critical circuits the last couple of years, he would have pulled his weapon and this discussion would have ended already. But, stupidly, he’d allowed complacency to dull his instincts.

      “First,” he said more loudly and with far more drama than he’d intended, “if I’m not charged with kidnapping and murder, and we’re put in so-called protective custody, she will have us eliminated. No one can protect us from her. Do you get that? No one.” He didn’t wait around for her response.

      “How can anyone be that powerful? Who is this woman?” Maggie hurried to catch up to him.

      Light flickered.

      “Down.” Slade crouched, tugging Maggie with him.

      The headlights grew closer. Not a car. A truck. A big one.

      “Go to the side of the road and wave. Maybe the driver will stop. You get the ride and I’ll catch up.”

      Maggie searched his face a moment, then shot to her feet and rushed forward, quickly wading from the knee-deep grass to the recently mowed roadside. She waved her arms, moving closer to the pavement.

      There was the possibility that if the driver stopped she could use the opportunity to escape. It was a risk he had to take. Any driver was far more likely to stop for a woman alone.

      The truck’s air brakes whined as it slowed. As soon as the tractor-trailer came to a complete stop, Maggie rushed to the passenger-side door. She stepped up onto the running board and the window powered down.

      Slade braced to run.

      Her usually calm voice sounded a little high-pitched. He couldn’t make out what she was saying. She did a lot of gesturing.

      “Hurry, Maggie,” he muttered to himself.

      She reached for the door handle. He moved forward, staying low enough to use the landscape as cover.

      As he neared, he heard Maggie saying, “I really appreciate this. I didn’t know how much farther I could make it.”

      Slade dashed across the final expanse of shorter grass and lunged up onto the running board just as Maggie settled into the seat. He had his weapon in his hand before the driver could grab the one stored under his seat.

      “We don’t want any trouble,” Slade advised. “We just need a ride.”

      The driver glared at him. “What’s the gun for, then?”

      “Same thing as the one under your seat.”

      “Can we just go?” Maggie pleaded. “We really do need a ride. That’s all.”

      Slade knew those shimmering green eyes of hers almost as well as he knew his own. He didn’t have to see her face as she appealed to the driver; he was well aware just how persuasive those jewel beauties could be. The driver didn’t stand a chance.

      The man jerked his head toward Slade. “If he puts his gun away, I’ll take you as far as St. Louis.”

      Maggie turned to Slade. He nodded and tucked the weapon into his waistband.

      “Let’s go,” the driver said, turning his attention to the road. “I’ve got a deadline.”

      Maggie scooted over, making room for Slade. He slid in next to her and closed the door. The driver let out on the clutch and the big rig roared forward.

      Slade monitored the side mirror as they climbed the on-ramp to the interstate. Now all he had to worry about were roadblocks.

      “You’re the couple the cops are looking for,” the man suggested.

      Maggie turned to Slade, her eyes wide, her face pale.

      “Unfortunately,” Slade admitted. Denying the accusation would be a waste of energy.

      “Those men tried to kill us,” Maggie offered. “They just started shooting.” Her words warbled. “We tried to run away, but they came after us.”

      The driver sent a sideways look at Slade. His sympathies lay solely with Maggie. “I guess you were in too big a hurry to explain things to the police.”

      Slade put one arm around Maggie’s shoulders and rested his other hand at his waist. The truck was gaining speed, which indicated the driver had no plans to try to force them out of the truck. Still, he was making no bones about his suspicions.

      “Something like that.” Slade exchanged another look with the guy. “Is that going to be a problem?”

      The driver shook his head. “As long as there’s no trickle-down effect, I got no issue with it.”

      When the driver had turned his full attention to the road, Slade relaxed.

      His contact was compromised, but St. Louis was a big city. He would figure out a new route to his destination.

      He wasn’t bested yet.