The plan was as dangerous as it was stupid, but with a life on the line and little else to go on, who was Morgan to argue? The only bright side to this dark path was that he was on the easier end of it—it was Gary who had the worst to deal with.
“Ready when you are,” he told Morgan, climbing out of the car.
“Just give me a second.” Morgan caught his breath, psyching himself up for what he was about to do. He was beginning to realize that he was becoming one of those snooping detectives who went beyond the law to get the job done. It was never what he’d intended for himself, but sometimes these things just happened. The trick was in being able to find your way back.
“The clock’s ticking.” Gary checked his watch.
It was now or never, and they’d be damned if it wasn’t now.
Morgan took one final breath and strode toward the Mustang with his head held high. He tried to make it look natural, seamlessly blending into the background for anyone watching from inside the store. As he approached the vehicle, he imagined Erika stood at the counter by the window, her head turned away while he searched the car. He just hoped she wouldn’t turn around. Who knew what would happen then?
Behind him, the door swung open and the bell chimed. Morgan quickly peered over his shoulder to see Gary enter the store. The plan was in place, and there was no going back now. With that in mind, Morgan hurried to the driver’s side and slipped open the door, regretting every second that passed with awful anticipation.
It wasn’t the best plan in the world, he thought, resting his knee on the driver’s seat and leaning across to check the carpet for clues. Gary was inside to distract Erika—to get in front of her in the line and keep the clerk busy if he could—while Morgan scoured the car for anything that might help. They’d figured that if they could find an invoice or booking slip for a hotel, then they could find out where she was going without having to risk following her. Sure, it was a reasonable hope, but the chances of getting caught were way too high. Now, as Morgan clunked open the glove compartment, all he could think of was what she’d do to him if she walked out now, watching him violate her personal space.
While his heart worked overtime, he rummaged through the thick stack of opened letters inside. He pulled them out and dropped them onto the passenger seat, spreading them out. They were all addressed to Mason Black—no surprise there—and none of it was any use. Just receipts for drive-thrus and invoices from mechanics in San Francisco.
He continued to search, his eyes occasionally darting to the front door of the gas station. Morgan wondered how Gary was doing in there. Had he bumped into Erika yet? Did she read his obvious detective vibes? Would she spook? Erika wasn’t dumb, that much was clear. Which meant he had to hurry up. As Gary had said, the clock was ticking.
Adrenaline pumping now, Morgan stuffed the papers back into the glove compartment and clicked it shut. He pivoted from his position, leaning into the back seat where an acrid smell filled his nostrils. What was it, he wondered? It was familiar—something he’d known his whole life. Body odor, perhaps? Yes, he’d smelled it before, but never this bad. He leaned further and checked the carpet, then dug his hand between the seats.
Nothing.
It wasn’t until he heard the noise that he truly felt like this was worth the effort. It was a thud, like a bowling ball being thrown to the ground, only without the echo. Morgan cocked his head and strained to listen, both confused and wary at the same time.
Again, that bowling ball sound.
This time it came twice in rapid succession. The car bounced. At first, Morgan thought it was his nerves agitating his stomach, creating an awful feeling like seasickness. But he held still, listening, feeling, waiting…
No question about it, he thought. The car definitely moved. More importantly, the thud was coming from the trunk. He froze, piecing it together in his mind while shock and fear seized control of his body. It was one of those things he just had to check out.
Exiting the car, Morgan tried hard to close the door without making a sound. Realizing he couldn’t do it, he pushed it to the latch and decided Erika might consider the fact she hadn’t shut it properly when she’d gotten out. From there, Morgan headed to the trunk to investigate the sound. He reached a shaking hand for the button, and just when his thumb touched the cold metal, a ringing sound from across the gas station made him jolt.
“Excuse me,” a man said from the doorway.
But not just any man. Morgan knew the voice better than he knew his own. He turned to see Gary standing by the door. He was talking to Erika, who stood with her back to Morgan, shuffling from one foot to the other as he made small talk that held her attention. Morgan knew he had to move, and as much as his burning desires told him to open that trunk, doing so would no doubt give him away.
It hurt him on an emotional level, but he had to let it go.
Feeling flat and hopeless, Morgan returned to Gary’s car. He watched for close to a minute before Erika headed back to the Mustang, and Gary slid into the seat beside Morgan.
“What did you find?” Gary asked.
But Morgan’s stare was fixed on Erika Givens, who stood beside her car door. She had one hand on the handle, the other on her hip. She frowned, bit her lip, and then scanned the area with her eyes. For one heart-pounding moment, she looked in Morgan’s direction. Her frown softened, and she shrugged, not fueling up but instead climbing into the car.
Morgan wasn’t sure what was happening, but he had a sense it wasn’t good. The fact she didn’t operate the gas pump made him curious, but he would never forget the way she looked at their car, her eyes cold and her expression completely flat.
Nobody was that casual, he thought.
Unless they knew they were being watched.