“I’ll help,” he said with a nervous grin, “if you give me your phone number.”
Darby grinned too, all teeth: “If you help bludgeon the shit out of a complete stranger with a rock just for me, I might just marry you.”
*
Lars saw them leave the restroom.
He was back at his sentry post, a few paces to the right of the front door in the lobby’s natural little blind spot. He was trying vainly to re-fold a map of Mount Hood, but he tilted his head to follow Darby and Ashley as they crossed the room. Darby kept her head down. Her gray Converse squeaked, her socks still squelching with melted snow.
No eye contact.
Exiting the restroom at the same time had been a huge mistake, Darby realized. Both Ed and Sandi had probably noticed, and they’d draw their own conclusions. Behind her, Ashley noisily bumped a chair. Smooth.
Her own heart was booming so loud she was shocked the others couldn’t hear it. Her cheeks burned tomato-red. She knew she was visibly rattled, but conveniently, it might just fit the bizarre scene. If she’d just met a stranger for a quickie in the filthiest restroom in all Colorado, she’d feel pretty damn anxious about this ten-pace walk of shame.
She carried her Swiss Army knife concealed against her wrist. The metal ice-cold against her skin. She had to be ready — if Ashley’s first swing didn’t take Rodent Face down, she’d stab him in the throat. The face. Those dim little eyes.
I’ll cut his throat if I have to.
She thought about Jay in the Chevrolet Astro outside, crouching inside a dog kennel damp with her own urine, her hand bloodied and bandaged, with five gallons of gasoline and a jug of Clorox bleach sloshing nearby. She wondered what would happen to this poor little kid if they failed.
She was still angry at herself for exiting the restroom at the same time as Ashley. That had been stupid.
Ed definitely noticed. He glanced up at them, slurped his coffee, and nodded at the radio. “You missed it.”
Ashley prickled. “Missed what?”
“The emergency loop updated again. It’s bad. Eastbound is blocked by a jackknifed semi at the bottom of the slope. Multiple fatalities.”
“How far from us?”
“Mile marker ninety-nine. So, seven, eight miles?”
Too far to walk.
Darby sighed, glancing back at the big Colorado map on the wall. That would place the wreck somewhere by Coal Creek, halfway between the blue dots signifying the Wanapa (Little Devil) and Wanapani (Big Devil) rest areas. It was a little surreal how perfectly trapped they were — a blizzard sweeping in from the west, and a crashed eighteen-wheeler eight miles downhill to the east, cutting off the exit behind them. Like an ambush, every bit as staged as the one they were about to attempt. She wondered if dawn was still the ETA for the road crews’ arrival, or if their timeline had slid back into tomorrow afternoon. If so, it would be a hell of a long time to hold a criminal at gunpoint.
Ashley reached through the security grate and adjusted the Sony’s antenna. He squinted into the coffee stand, into the dark spaces under the counters. “And . . . do you think they have a real radio back there?”
“What?”
“A two-way radio? Or a landline phone? They’d have to.”
Easy there, Ashley.
“Yeah?” Ed grunted. “If they do, it’s state property, locked up—”
Ashley pointed. “Held by a dollar-store padlock. One good whack with something heavy, and those shutters come right up.”
“I’m not in a felony mood just yet.”
“Maybe you’ll reconsider,” Ashley said, “in the next few minutes.”
Darby knew he would. She stood by the window, trying to appear calm, and looked outside into the dark trees. The snowflakes kept coming, some rising, some falling, catching flecks of sodium lamplight like cinders from a campfire. A few paces behind her, she heard Ashley exhale through chattering teeth. He had the rock-in-a-sock stuffed up his right sleeve, ready to drop into his palm and swing.
They’d agreed on a covert signal. When Ashley was ready, he’d cough once. This would be Darby’s cue to walk to the front door, pass Lars on her way outside, and set the ambush in motion. Like triggering a bear trap.
Only problem? Ashley wasn’t ready.
He hovered there, teeth gritted, sucking in shallow gulps of air. She hoped his shortness of breath wouldn’t be a liability. Typical for her luck — I enlist the aid of the youngest, tallest, strongest-looking guy in the immediate area, and he turns out to have asthma. Just great. And she couldn’t even imagine what was going on in poor Ashley’s mind. An hour ago, he’d been demonstrating a Mexican turnover to this guy, and now he’d been asked to slink up behind him and bash his skull in.
It should be me, she realized.
I’m a coward for being Person A.
Maybe. But Ashley was, without a doubt, physically stronger than her. So her being the bait and Ashley being the trap made plenty of logical sense. It just didn’t feel right.
“Hey.” Lars cleared his throat. “Ah . . . excuse me?”
Darby turned to face him, centipedes coiling in her stomach, her Swiss Army knife tucked up her sleeve.
So did Ashley.
“Does . . .” The child abductor was still by the door, squinting into another tourism brochure: “Does anyone know what this word means?”
Sandi lowered her paperback. “Pronounce it.”
“Resplend-ent.”
“Resplendent. It means beautiful.”
“Beautiful.” Lars nodded once, mechanically. “Okay. Thank you, Sandi.” His gaze returned to his brochure — but on the way down, it met Darby’s from across the room, and for a half-second, she was trapped in the beady stupidity of his eyes.
He mouthed: Beautiful.
She looked away.
It’d been over sixty seconds now. Ashley was still standing beside her, his feet rooted to the floor, and now she was beginning to worry. She couldn’t just tug him back into the restroom for another pep talk — the first one had already drawn too much of the room’s attention. She was stuck waiting on his signal.
Come on, Ashley.
She wished he’d just inhale some dust and accidentally cough, so she’d have an excuse to approach the door and kick off the attack. Under her sleeve she pricked her thumb on the Swiss Army blade. It was satisfyingly sharp.
Please cough.
She watched him waver there, like a kid on a high dive. He’d been so cool, so smooth and confident before, and now he looked like he’d just witnessed a murder. Darby felt a nervous tightness climb her throat. She’d chosen the wrong ally, and now the situation was unraveling.
Cough. Or you’re going to give us away—
Ed noticed. “Ashley, you’re quiet all of a sudden.”
“I’m . . . I’m fine.”
“Hey, look, man, I’m sorry about circle time.”
“It’s alright.”
“I was just giving you shit—”
“I’m fine. Really.” Ashley adjusted his sleeve as he spoke, keeping the rock-in-a-sock from dropping into view.
Ed smiled, tapping the table’s edge with two fingers. A quiet little heartbeat, and for a moment the room was silent, and Darby could feel that sound in her bones. “Your big fear is . . . you said it was door hinges. Right?”