It was a long stretch of highway between Corpus Christi and Brownsville. They filled the silence with talk about anything and everything. He had a droll sense of humor that Izzie found meshed well with her own. She could snark at him and feel perfectly comfortable about doing it.
It was nice. Easy. Familiar.
Oliver spent most of the time crawling on her lap or sleeping. They’d fastened his leash to the table behind Allen, so the puppy couldn’t tangle in Allen’s feet as he drove, but Oliver could still reach her if needed. It was almost idyllic—like a real vacation or retreat.
They were halfway to their destination when Allen laughed.
“What is it?” she asked, scratching Oliver’s ears until he settled back down on her lap. He was getting restless. They’d have to find a spot to let him go outside. Puppies had far more accidents than cats, by far. That had been one thing she’d learned fast.
Then she saw it. A long black limousine pulled off alongside the highway at the only rest stop they’d seen for a long while. The driver was changing a tire.
“Should we stop and help?”
“We both know that’s not going to happen.” Izzie said, and then she looked closer. The man changing a tire on the long limousine with a familiar white logo was someone she had seen before. In the company of Turner’s cousin Houghton. Izzie had met the occupants of that limousine many times before. A sudden pang of homesickness hit her so hard it surprised her at its ferocity. “Do you think that it is someone we know?”
He nodded. “Probably. They are opening the Barratt—South Padre Island this weekend. Members of the board at Barratt try to make these things. It might be Houghton or Turner in there right now.”
“Maybe it’s Turner and Annie.”
“Possibly. Most likely, it’s Houghton and his wife, though. They tend to be the most visible Barratts lately.”
“It’s because everyone has gone doofy over Mel for some reason. Cinderella story with the wounded cop and the hot billionaire, she said. She uses it to her advantage, though.” Mel had a habit of spending her husband’s money on whatever charities she could find. Houghton supported her in that every step of the way. “She might be able to help you with setting up the scholarship.”
She wanted to see if it was Mel. Wanted to know if it was Annie. To feel some part of her normal again.
“When we get to South Padre, I’ll call Annie. See for certain.” They wouldn’t be able to meet up with her friend, but it would be nice to know they were nearby. If she and Allen needed something. Or even just to talk. She was used to talking to Annie almost every day. All of that had changed lately—even before the abduction attempt.
It had all changed when Turner entered the picture. The storm. That had changed everything for all of them. “I haven’t been away from Annie this long since she and her mother moved away briefly when we were nine. They were back six months later.”
She was about to say something else when Allen cursed.
“What is it?”
“We’re being followed. White truck. Looks a little too familiar to me. Put him in your lap and tighten your seatbelt.”
Allen hit the gas.