Programmed to take her to the campground, the Garmin instructed her to take the ramp onto the I-10 as she approached it, but Mary ignored it and continued on 87. A moment later she spotted the lights and pumps of the truck stop ahead. She slowed almost to a crawl to make the turn, hoping to once again avoid sending anything crashing around in the back that might hit Bailey.
There was a definite sense of relief when she had the RV parked and shut down. At least there was until Mary slid out from behind the wheel and stood to turn and survey the wreckage in the RV aisle. There was enough light from the truck stop coming through the windows that she could see just how large the task ahead of her was to put everything safely back where it belonged. Knowing she’d have to do that before leaving the truck stop, Mary grimaced and then began to make her way toward the back of the RV.
Her purse was safely tucked out of sight in the bedroom closet where she always kept it and she might need change to use the pay phone if the workers in the truck stop refused to let her use their phone. Besides, it was well past suppertime and was going to be even later by the time she cleaned up and tucked everything away. Having dinner here would save her the chore of cooking herself a meal when she did finally reach the campground.
Mary slipped on something slick on the floor, and grabbed for the kitchen counter, then glanced down with a frown at the stain in front of the refrigerator. It was a small dark puddle, one of several she’d half noted. It looked like ketchup, but with a more liquid consistency. The fridge door had obviously also opened and closed during her earlier abrupt stop, but she wasn’t sure what had fallen out and spilled over the floor. She couldn’t immediately spot a broken jar or anything, although the bowls and towels and other things now scattered across the floor may be hiding it.
Adding washing the floor to the list of chores she needed to perform before getting back on the road, Mary continued toward the back. Bailey stood as she approached, whined excitedly and turned to nose the door to the bedroom, obviously eager to get inside.
“Yes, yes. You can get on the bed and sleep,” Mary said with exasperation as she reached to slide open the bedroom pocket door. It was all the permission Bailey needed. The moment Mary had the door open wide enough for her to slide through, the dog was rushing forward to leap on the bed.
Shaking her head, Mary stepped into the small space. She leaned against the edge of the mattress as she turned to open the nearest wardrobe door. It and the drawers below it, which were presently blocked by the bed, had always been hers, while the back half-closet and drawers were her husband’s. Mary peered into the dark interior of her closet and felt around briefly, then stepped back to hit the switch to turn on the lights in the small bedroom.
She started to shift her attention to the closet again, but paused as she saw that Bailey had jumped off the opposite side of the bed and stood in the small bathroom, licking—was that a shoulder? Mary squinted and then leaned forward to get a better look at the floor on the opposite side of the bed, her eyes widening as she realized that she was peering at a very large, very naked man lying half in the bedroom and half in the bathroom. His bottom was what was lying in the bathroom and it was his ass, not his shoulder, that Bailey was diligently licking blood off of.
Two
“Bailey,” Mary breathed, alarm and worry rushing over her as her poor brain tried to sort out how this man had come to be here. He certainly hadn’t been there when she’d set out that morning, and there was no way he could have got in while she was driving. The only time she’d left the RV without locking the door was when she’d hit something on the—
Mary stiffened as realization slid over her. This was what she’d hit. She’d run over this man. That was the only thing that made sense. Certainly the blood now covering him suggested he’d been in some sort of accident. But how the hell had he got himself into the RV without her seeing him?
She started to crawl onto the bed, intending to see how she could help him, but immediately paused when he turned his head and opened deep black eyes to stare hard at her. She met his gaze briefly, then backed slowly off the bed. The man was pale as death, coated with blood from top to bottom and there was even more of it soaking into the carpet and pooling on the tile floor around him, but his eyes seemed almost to glow silver with life and she was suddenly afraid of him.
Mary stared at the man briefly, telling herself that she was not going to be able to help him, that this man needed serious medical care, an ambulance and hospital, surgery and gallons of blood. She spun away, calling out, “I’ll get help.”