Words for David, not Atlas.
“Miss Jones, we’d like to get going.” Sergeant Zuccolin had lost whatever patience he had initially.
“Will there be stops along the way? I didn’t have a chance to take Atlas to relieve himself before sending him into the crate.” She didn’t want to leave. Everything about this was rushed, off, and for once she desperately wished she could call her stepfather.
It wasn’t likely he’d ordered this. Maybe he hadn’t even known. His last instructions to her indicated he’d expected her to be around David for a while longer at least. This didn’t fit.
“I assure you, we’ll be stopping before you know it.” An odd quirk popped in the sergeant’s voice as he spoke. Or maybe she’d imagined it.
She nodded and closed Atlas’s crate door. No bungee cords or anything to secure the latch so she left it. Atlas was well-behaved now so she doubted it’d be an issue.
“Good-bye, Mr. Cruz. It was a pleasure to work with you.” She met David’s gaze this time but it was still frigid.
He only nodded. “Miss Jones.”
And that was it. She turned back toward the SUV. The other soldier had the front passenger seat door open for her and she climbed in without looking back. As they drove away, she tried to unobtrusively watch David in the side-view mirror.
He never moved.
Then they turned onto the main road and trees hid him from view.
Chapter Nineteen
It didn’t take a genius to catch the hint that she wasn’t wanted. Her two military companions were stoic and noncommunicative as they pulled onto the main road headed for the highway.
Oh, she hadn’t expected them to be friendly and chatty or even make small talk, but they could at least answer her questions. So far, they’d been mute and possibly pretending to be deaf. She’d figured it was because they were concentrating on getting on the road so she’d subsided.
Now that they were picking up speed and headed on a major road, it could be worth another try.
“What’s the next step for Atlas?” She tried to sound friendly, positive, yet professional.
Nothing. If anything, the only response from the man driving was a deepening scowl. Maybe he’d been hoping she’d be quiet the whole ride. Not that this SUV was particularly quiet. It was utilitarian, absent of the padding and console treatments she was used to seeing in vehicles. As a result, there seemed to be something rattling in the center console, the doors, pretty much everywhere.
There was a radio but no one had turned it on and she wasn’t ballsy enough to reach out and start fiddling with it. She didn’t know the local radio stations anyway since she and David had alternated playlists on their phones for their road trip. David and Atlas had been much better driving companions.
But that adventure was over. In a whole lot of ways, most likely.
She tried communicating with her current travel companions again. Simple question. Perfectly reasonable. “Which base are we headed to?”
Zilch.
In the back, Sergeant Zuccolin might have shifted in his seat a bit. Maybe.
There was an awful cold creeping across her skin and through her insides as the situation forced introspection. She probably wasn’t wanted back at Hope’s Crossing Kennels either. Maybe David was moving back into his cabin at that very moment.
It might be a while before she could work up the courage to call him. Try to explain. He might not even take her call. And if he didn’t, would an e-mail be opened or immediately deleted? What about a text?
There were so many ways for her to reach out to him and he could ignore each and every one of them.
There was no telling how long she’d manage to stay attached to Atlas once they got to whatever military base they were heading to. She’d most definitely be going through some challenging conversations. Ideally, she wouldn’t have to reach out to her stepfather directly to keep herself a part of the project. Maybe she could apply what she’d learned from working with David, Brandon, and Alex to her approach for reasoning with the military men she’d be encountering once they reached their destination. Get started on a more positive note with a better impression.
Sergeant Zuccolin had most definitely formed an opinion of her already. It might be good, but probably the best she could hope for was neutral. Possibly bad. He’d been a direct witness to the surprise she’d sprung on David and it hadn’t been a nice one.