1 Chapter 1

Cameron steered the Jeep Wrangler into the truck stop and pulled up to a gas pump.

“I gotta run into the ladies’ room before I explode,” she told the guy riding in the passenger seat. She looked at her watch and reached back for her shoulder bag.

“I’ll get the tank filled while you’re in there,” Dave said to her as they both got out of the car.

“I’ll be right back,” Cam called back as she rushed into the main building of the truck stop.

Ten minutes later, Cam walked out of the ladies’ room and stopped at the front counter. The people in the store were all watching what was happening in the parking lot. She glanced outside. The entire parking lot was filled with police cars, their lights flashing. There had to be at least six of them.

She turned to the counter. The young man working there was intent on watching what was outside.

“Excuse me…excuse me.” She had a hard time getting his attention.

“Yuh?” He sort of turned to her but didn’t take his eyes off the outside. Finally, he turned. “I’m sorry.”

“Can I have a pack of Marlboro Light 100s and one of those big chocolate chip cookies?” she asked.

“Uh, yuh…sure.” He grabbed the cigarettes and the cookie and placed them on the counter in front of her. He paid attention long enough to take her ten and give her change.

“What’s happening out there?” she asked as he turned back to watch the police action. The flashing lights of the patrol cars were almost blinding.

“Looks like a drug bust of some kind,” he answered. He couldn’t take his eyes off what was happening out there.

“Damn!” she mumbled as she took a bite of her cookie. “Let me have one of those lottery scratch-offs, too,” she said as she put another dollar on the counter. It would buy her some time as she watched her traveling companion being frisked and questioned.

The clerk turned back and tore a ticket from the roll and set it in front of her. He was annoyed that she was disturbing him.

Cam took a coin that she’d just received as change and scratched off the lottery spots.

“Nope,” she laughed. “I never have luck with these things.”

“Nah…” the clerk said, still watching outside, as he took her card and tossed it in the trash, “I thought it was all bogus until some women won $14,000 a few weeks ago.”

“Really?” Cam asked as she, too, watched the action in the parking lot. Dave had his feet spread apart and was leaning forward, his hands on the hood of the car. One of the officers, dressed in a black jumpsuit with DEA written across the back in Day-Glo yellow, was asking him questions. Cam didn’t hear what he was asking but saw Dave shaking his head repeatedly. The trunk and back doors of the car were wide open as other police were investigating and inspecting what was in there.

“I’d love to see what happens but I have to get going,” she mumbled as she watched the police handcuff Dave.

She walked outside, still chewing the cookie, as she pulled her cellphone from her pocket. She went to the side of the building where she would be shielded behind the parked cars and pressed Blake’s number. She finished the cookie and lit a cigarette as she waited for him to answer.

“We’ve got trouble. The police have arrested Dave and seized everything in the car,” she whispered when Blake said hello.

“What?” he exploded.

“We pulled into a truck stop and Dave was filling the tank. When I came out of the ladies’ room, the whole parking lot was teeming with cops. They took everything out of the car and are handcuffing Dave. There must be a dozen police here.”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“At the truck stop about a half hour southeast of Halfway on route I-70…at…” she searched the parking lot, looking for a sign, “Circle T Truck stop.”

Blake let out a stream of expletives Cam hadn’t heard since she was in prison.

“How do I get out of here?” Blake better have a ride for me or I’ll call Maggie and let Blake’s team handle this alone.

“I’ll think of something. Let me see who’s available to pick you up. Is there a restaurant or food place there?”

“Yes. There’s a diner.”

“Go camp out there like nothing’s happening and get yourself some dinner. What color are you wearing?”

“I’ve got on a light blue T-shirt.”

“I understand the women used to call you Harvard.”

“Yeah,” she confirmed. It seemed so out of place in this conversation. Harvard…sort of. Actually, she’d gone to Radcliffe, but since it merged with Harvard there was no difference.