A Cry in the Dark Page 2
Sensing my apprehension, he held up his hands in surrender. “I only want to know if you need my help. If not, I’ll be on my way.” When I still didn’t answer him, he said, “Would you like me to turn it over and see what I think? Maybe it’s an easy fix.” He gestured to his truck. “I know what I’m doing, and I won’t charge you just to look.”
“Yeah…okay.” My heartbeat picked up again. My purse was on the passenger seat, and my gun was inside. What if he found my gun and used it against me?
He followed my gaze to the front seat, then took a step back. “All I want to do is check the engine, but if you’d prefer for me to call someone, I understand.”
I’d been out here over an hour, and now that I’d gotten up from the rock, I realized how stiff and cold I’d gotten. He was the first person to stop, not to mention he was driving a tow truck, for heaven’s sake. He was literally what I needed—a direct answer to the prayer I hadn’t said.
“No,” I finally said, running a hand through my hair. It had been short for a couple of weeks now, cut into an angled bob that wouldn’t yield to a ponytail, and I still couldn’t get used to the length. Or the auburn color. When I looked in the mirror, I sometimes had trouble recognizing myself.
I tried to cover my unease with a tight smile as I lowered my hand to my side. “Sorry. I’m just a little jumpy.”
He held up his hands again. “Understandable.” Taking several more steps backward, he nodded toward my car. “How about you get your purse out before I get in? All I need is the key.”
Obviously I wasn’t doing a great job of guarding my expression, but I didn’t think he was playing me. Besides, once I had my purse and my gun, I’d feel a hell of a lot better about the whole situation. “I don’t mean to insult you…”
“I’m not insulted,” he said, taking two more steps backward. “You’re smart to be wary. You get what you need, and then I’ll check it out.”
Keeping an eye on him as I opened the passenger door, I grabbed my purse and slung both straps over my right shoulder, clutching it to my side. “The key’s still in the ignition.”
He’d been watching me with guarded curiosity, but now his mouth tipped into a hint of a grin. “You left the keys in the ignition?”
I was acting so cautious—as though I feared he’d rob me blind—that I could see why he was amused. “It won’t start, so it’s not like someone could steal it.” I shrugged. “Unless you have a magic touch.”
His grin spread.
Blood rushed to my cheeks, stinging my windblown skin. “With cars.”
Amusement filled his eyes. “I’ve been told that too.”
Just when I thought my face might actually combust, he got into the car. The grinding sound followed a few seconds later. He climbed out and walked around to the engine for a few moments, then said, “When was the last time you had the oil changed?”
“I haven’t,” I admitted. “I just got this thing a couple of weeks ago.”
His brow shot up. “You didn’t ask for the maintenance record?”
My friends in Arkansas had given me the car, just like they’d arranged for the documents in my purse. I hadn’t been in a position to haggle or ask for details. “No.”
He scowled as though I’d committed a cardinal sin against car ownership, which I supposed I had. “I think the engine’s seized.”
My heart sank. “I take it that’s not something you can fix?”
“I can…but not here,” he said, but he didn’t sound sure. He closed the hood. “I’d need to tow it to my garage.”
Studying him, I worried my bottom lip between my teeth. “How much is that going to cost?”
“This far up the mountain?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “The tow will run you seventy-five. Then I can dig into it tomorrow and give you an estimate on the repair.”
The towing charge wasn’t as bad as I’d thought, but the rest of his statement gave me pause. “Tomorrow?”
“It’s gonna take some time to tear it apart, and after I figure out what’s wrong, I’ll need to get parts. I suspect we’re lookin’ at a couple of days.”
A couple of days? Which meant at least two more nights in a motel, plus meals, not to mention the cost of the repairs. “What do you think it’s going to cost?”
“I won’t know until I get in and look around.”
This felt an awful lot like déjà vu. This is exactly what had happened to me in Arkansas, where I’d spent the last few months. In some ways, it felt like fate had brought me there, to the very people who could help me with my…unique situation. Rose Gardner and Neely Kate Rivers had found me by the side of the road. They’d offered me shelter and kindness, and eventually I had spilled my secrets to them. When it had come time for me to leave, they had known exactly how to help me. How to hide me. Except I’d made a mistake and landed myself back in the same situation. Borrowed car, seized engine. Dependent on the kindness of strangers. But this time the breakdown felt a lot more like carelessness than fate.
Why hadn’t I thought to check the oil? It would likely cost more money to repair the car than I had in my shiny new bank account. My stomach twisted into a knot.
“I understand if you don’t trust me to work on your car, what with you being a captive audience and all,” he said. “If you prefer, I can tow it into Greeneville, but I can’t do it until tomorrow.”
“How much?” I blurted out.
He hesitated. “It’s a haul down there,” he said with a frown. “An hour from my shop. I’d have to make it worth my time, which would include the trip back.”
“I understand,” I said, then repeated, “How much?”
“Three hundred.”
Shit. But he didn’t seem like he was trying to screw me over, and I didn’t see the point in having the car towed to a bigger city, where everything was likely to be more expensive.
“Or I could tow it to Ewing.” He paused and rubbed his chin. “That would only be about an hour and a half round trip for me, so let’s make it two hundred.”
That wasn’t much better.
“Maybe you’d rather call someone to come get you,” he said. “You can use my radio since your phone probably doesn’t work up here.”
He could have been asking to make sure I was really alone, but I didn’t think so. Although I certainly wouldn’t call myself the best judge of people—I’d gotten myself into this situation by trusting the wrong people—I admired his sense of integrity. It made me want to trust him. Or maybe it was my desperation influencing me. “No. There’s no one close enough to call.”
He nodded. “I saw the Georgia plates, so I didn’t think so, but didn’t want to presume.” He turned to look out at the view, soaking it in for a moment, and shifted his weight. “There’s another option.” He turned back to face me. “I can call a deputy sheriff to pick you up and take you to Ewing. Then you can figure out what to do about your car later.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “That’s your cheapest option at the moment. You’ll still have to tow the car, but it will give you time to figure everything out.”