Target (32 page)

U
ntil today, Aurelie had never been closer to the Roll Inn than the street that passed a wide stretch of crispy yellow grass with a single sign standing tall enough to be seen for miles around. Not read, just seen.

The Superior Diner stood next to a single, long group of units with an office at one end.

“This is the first time I've really looked at this place,” she said. Nick hadn't said a word since a call came in from Joan Reeves while he was driving Aurelie home after a late meal. He had tried to drop her off but Aurelie insisted that since Joan apparently sounded very upset, it could be a good idea to have a woman along.

He remained silent.

“She said to meet her in the diner?” Aurelie asked. She should just shut up and let him stew on his own.

He nodded, yes.

“Why don't you want me along?” Aurelie asked. “You said Joan was crying. You know you hate that sort of thing.”

Nick looked sideways at her, his blue eyes intense. “I'm not sure what I think about her. I don't know if I believe her story.”

“And that means you don't want company when you deal with her?”

“So I'm protective of you.” He stuck out his chin. “Make something of it. I'm not going to change.”

They both laughed, then Aurelie said, “I'm pretty independent, Nick. I like it that way.”

He turned in at the entrance to the motel and drove slowly toward the diner. “I don't see Joan's truck, do you?”

She studied a straggle of vehicles in front of the motel, one by one. “No. Maybe she left.”

“I hope you're right.” He waved a hand. “I can't be blamed for wanting to avoid more drama.”

He'd become withdrawn after she told him Sarah's reaction when the two sisters got together. She realized he'd had no idea how deeply Sarah cared for him. Far from being flattered, he seemed devastated and preoccupied with making sure there was something left of the family after the dust settled.

He parked, nose in, by the diner.

“I see her,” Aurelie said. Joan had pulled her hair back into the ponytail she favored. “Looks like she's the only customer.”

“That's good and bad,” Nick said. “Sometimes it's nice to have other conversations around. More private that way.”

Despite the hour, heat blasted Aurelie when she opened the car door. Her sandals stuck to the patchy blacktop. She reached back inside the Audi and grabbed her hat.

In the act of jamming it down to her ears, she looked at Nick over the car and he grinned. “I like your hat,” he said. “I don't know if it makes you look mysterious or ridiculously young.”

This was yet another day for analyzing The Hat. Aurelie smacked the top of the crown and said, “Mysteriously youthful. I'll take it. C'mon, Hoover. You can't stay in there.”

The dog climbed awkwardly between the seats and slithered out.

“Let's find him a cool spot,” Nick said. “Hoover! Come here, boy. I'll get you some water.”

Moving like a greyhound with the lure in his sights, more or less, Hoover barreled into Nick and snuffled at his pockets. When Nick took out a plastic bag with pieces of white chicken meat inside, Aurelie rolled her eyes.

Nick used the diversion of letting Hoover slurp at the bag to take an assessing look through the diner window at Joan.

Instead of doing the same, Aurelie watched Nick's reaction. “Is she okay?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“I don't think so. She's got her head down.”

“Maybe she's tired. She could be resting,” Aurelie said.

“This shouldn't be our problem,” Nick said.

Aurelie put her hands into the pockets of her full, red skirt. “I think you and I attract people with problems. Let's see what we can do.”

“That's your problem,” Nick said. “You think—let's see what we can do. I think—let's get this over with.”

“You're mean and hard.” As long as they bantered, she didn't have to fixate on what Sarah was going through.

“She's seen us.” He took Aurelie by the elbow and steered her toward the doors. “We can put Hoover between the two sets of doors. It's too hot out here.”

Before Aurelie could think of an appropriate opening comment for her, they stood in front of a table where Joan Reeves continued to study her hands, folded in her lap.

“Hi, Joan,” Nick said.

Too simple.
Aurelie didn't figure a reasonable approach would accomplish much. “It's Aurelie and Nick,” she said. “We came as soon as Nick got your call.”

“Sit down, please,” Joan said, her voice muffled. “I'm sorry to bother you. I need help and I can't think of anyone else who might do it. I need money.”

Aurelie and Nick looked at one another.

“Tell me about it,” Nick said.

Joan said, “I don't have any money, not even the price of a cup of coffee.”

Aurelie noticed Joan had nothing in front of her on the yellow plastic-topped table. She swiveled around and waved to the only waitress in sight. When the woman hurried over, Aurelie said, “We'd like coffee, please.” She looked at Joan's slumped shoulders. “Did you have dinner, Joan?”

“I'm not hungry.”

“What soup do you have?” Aurelie persisted to the waitress.

“Red bean,” the woman said, and her round face brightened. “You never had red bean soup till you've had ours. It's famous.”

The soup's fame hadn't reached Aurelie but she said, “In that case, please bring us three bowls. I hate to miss great opportunities. And corn bread, please.”

She and Nick had eaten Ona's party dish, stewed duck with turnips cooked in a rich onion roux, and although they hadn't thought they were hungry, they had cleaned their plates. But they would manage red bean soup, too, if it helped this situation.

The waitress returned quickly with the coffee. Joan poured in a hefty amount of cream and picked up the mug in both hands the moment the three of them were on their own again.

And Joan's face was fully revealed.

Nick leaned forward. “Who did that?” He had never been one to tiptoe around a point.

Joan shook her head, kept her eyes on the coffee and drank.

“Your eyes are turning black,” Aurelie said, shaken. “And your poor mouth. Oh, Joan, what's happened?”

Tears pooled in the corners of Joan's battered eyes. “If I could borrow some money to get away, I promise you I'll pay it back. I don't know when because I've got to go a long way away and start over. But I will pay you.”

Nick put a restraining hand on Aurelie's wrist. He hated what had happened to Joan but he also knew she needed more help than just money. “We'll help you,” he said quietly. She needed some guarantee of safety until she made a new place for herself. “Please tell us everything. You need to trust someone and you can trust us. We've both known enough trouble to understand.”

Aurelie's smile at him, her approval, felt like winning first prize for something.

The bean soup arrived.

Steam rose from fresh, deep yellow corn bread.

Nick picked up a spoon and waited until Joan did the same. She ate, a bean at a time, then two, and finally a spoonful. Rich butter melted on the bread and all three of them made satisfied noises with the first bite.

He let a few minutes pass. Some color had returned to Joan's cheeks.

“I want to be sure you're going to be safe,” he said.

“I've been a fool for so long, I just hope I can change,” Joan said. “If there was a bad choice to make, I made it.”

Now,
there
was a conversation stopper.

“Today I found out the whole thing about the book was a lie. Our boss sent us so…so Vic could do something completely different. I was just the main decoy.”

Nick was grateful Aurelie seemed to sense it was best to let Joan talk for as long as she would without interruption.

Joan dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “He lost his temper and hit me.”

Picking up his coffee, then setting it down again without drinking, Nick continued to wait.

“You wouldn't understand about lives like mine. I must just seem dirty to you. Maybe I am, but that's not what I'd hoped for. What time is it?”

Aurelie said, “Almost ten.”

Joan looked momentarily disoriented. She stood up and said, “Please excuse me. I'll be right back.”

She walked outside, stopping to pat Hoover on the way.

“What do you think?” Aurelie said.

“I want to know what the book thing was a supposed cover for. I'm afraid she'll change her mind about talking to us and run before we can get anything out of her.”

Joan dialed Vic's cell number. She didn't want to say she was angry with him, but although he had only wounded her mouth, he'd set her up for the pair of black eyes, and other, bigger bruises and cuts covered by her clothes. The motel manager liked his sex rough and when she'd begged him to stop hitting her, he'd found even more violence to heap on her. And afterward, he told her she only had until morning to clear out of the motel.

So now she was asking more strangers for money. They would probably bring up the police before too long and she couldn't go there.

Vic's number rang and rang and she checked what she'd dialed. It should be right. Then a voice said, “This is no longer a working number.”

Driving a fist into her stomach, she dialed again, and got the same message.

He'd dumped her, taken her car and every penny she had in the world and left her, knowing that even if she could find a way, she wouldn't follow him, not back to Cooper. Vic would make sure Cooper blamed her for the failure of whatever he'd sent Vic to do. She had nowhere to go back, and nowhere to go to.

She looked through the diner windows.

Nick and Aurelie sat with their backs to her. She looked toward the road. There wasn't even much truck traffic down here. She'd have to make her way to a freeway ramp if she wanted to take her chances on a ride.

Tiredness, heavy, muscle-numbing exhaustion, weighed her down. Another strange man who wanted sex, that was the best she could expect up on the road, or it was the reasonable thing to expect. She couldn't go on. There was only one chance for any kind of way out that she could think of, and with a lot of luck, it was inside the diner.

 

“Okay?” Nick said when Joan slid back into her seat.

She looked from him to Aurelie and shook her head. “I don't see how.” He could see her deciding what to say next. “Vic's gone back to California—San Francisco. That's where we're from. The man we work for is there. He's evil.”

Aurelie sucked in a breath. “Why do you work for an evil man?”

“I don't anymore. I don't work for anyone.”

“We're going to help you stay safe,” Nick said. A jumpy excitement started in the pit of his stomach. Vic had gone back to some creep in San Francisco. Could there be a connection to his own story? Regardless, he couldn't ignore any leads. “What's the boss's name?”

Joan's eyes slid away but Nick didn't prompt her. He did look at Aurelie, who shook her head a little.

“Cooper,” Joan said at last. “That's all I know.”

“What would you like us to do now?” Aurelie said. “I don't think running without knowing where you're going is a good answer.”

“I don't know.”

Nick had put off the next question. “It makes sense to bring the police in, Joan. What Vic did to you is a crime.”

“No police,” Joan said at once. Nick could feel her fear. “I can't talk about it now, but give me a chance and some time and I will.”

Nick wanted one thing—he wanted to get his hands on Vic, and on Cooper, whoever he was.

“He took my truck,” Joan said. “And my money.”

“Is he coming back for you?”

“No. I don't want to believe it but I know he's not.”

“But you're going to protect him anyway,” Nick said.

“That makes you a victim by choice. If you want out, you've got to deal with him.”

“How?” she whispered.

The waitress arrived and Nick was glad for a few moments to think. She refilled the coffee and left.

“When did he leave?” Nick asked Joan.

“Just a couple of hours ago. He was going to pull off and sleep as soon as he got to a good rest area. Then he'll head out. He's got his route all mapped out—the shortest way to where he's got to go.”

Nick held his breath. “Would it hurt if I caught up with him and asked him to reconsider what he's decided to do?”