Especially when she finally crawled exhausted into bed and realized that his face was floating in her mind’s eye, and that all she could think about was what it might be like to feel his arms around her.
Stupid, but private, she thought as she drifted away. No one would ever know.
And she was too smart to get herself into trouble over a rolling stone.
* * *
The wake the next night was surprisingly crowded. Or maybe not, Haley thought as she stood to one side and watched a swirl of local people she knew and truckers she recognized. All spoke in the subdued voices that seemed to go with the solemn situation. Her mother’s viewing had been less crowded.
People she had known at least by sight for most of her life. People who hadn’t forgotten her mother or her through all those terrible years of illness, even though the two of them had gradually withdrawn from most social contact.
Good people.
This was different, though, with those truckers coming and going in a fairly steady stream. She hadn’t realized that they formed such strong bonds just from being on the road. But they were all drivers who’d been coming through Hasty’s truck stop for a long time. Maybe they felt a link with this little town.
She was surprised, though, by how elaborate the funeral was. Her mother’s had been much less so, simply because after her illness there were few resources left. She would have thought Ray’s family would find it even harder. That looked like an awfully expensive casket, for one thing. And there was a ton of flowers. Plus, having a two-night viewing cost more. She’d had to shave it for her mother, having a relatively short wake right before the funeral.
“Hey,” said a familiar voice, and she turned to see one of her high school friends, a girl named Debbie. “Sad about Ray, huh?”
“Very. I have to admit I hadn’t seen him but once since high school, though.”
“I had.” Debbie shrugged. “He asked me out a few times in the last month.”
“Oh, Debbie, you must be devastated!” Haley at once reached for her hand.
Debbie shook her head. “Not really. I didn’t take him up on it. It was just kind of sad, though, because it sounded like things were really turning around for him. And for his family.”
“Trucking’s a good job.”
Debbie shook her head, and her dark mane of hair swirled a bit. “No, it wasn’t that. Apparently he was coming into some money from somewhere. I thought he was giving me a snow job so I’d go out with him. The Listons have never had two dimes.”
“I know.”
“So I didn’t believe him. I figured he was trying to make himself sound important, you know?”
“I know.”
“But maybe he wasn’t lying.” Debbie sighed. “I mean, look at this wake. You can’t do this when you’re broke. So maybe he got that money he was talking about.”
“I hope so.”
“Me, too.” Debbie’s smile was rather sad. “Well, I paid my respects, so I’ve got to get going. You need to poke your head up more often, Haley. It’s been too long.”
A couple more of her girlfriends stopped to chat with her, too, and a couple of guys who’d once wanted to date her but were now happily married to others of her friends.
Life seemed to have moved on during her mother’s illness and left her a little behind. But that was okay. She was going to catch up. She was
already
catching up by going to school, setting her sights on her LPN and then her RN. After that, she’d have time to catch up in any other way she wanted.
When things quieted a bit, she made her way over to offer her condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Liston. She didn’t know them well. Just as she hadn’t known Ray well. It occurred to her for the first time that the Listons might have kept to themselves simply because they were so poor. Look at the way Ray had been treated and ignored in school. Maybe the same had happened to his parents. Maybe they’d never quite fit in larger social circles around here. The thought saddened her.
She avoided looking into the open casket as she approached Ray’s parents. They appeared pinched and exhausted, almost worn to the bone by life. Dressed in their Sunday finest, which still looked outdated and threadbare, they seemed overwhelmed by the number of people who had showed up.
Haley offered her hand to Mrs. Liston. “I’m so sorry about Ray. He came into the truck stop that night, just before...well, I was glad to see he had such a good job.”
Mrs. Liston nodded. Mr. Liston, however, said, “He was a good boy, no matter what anyone thought.”
“He was,” Haley agreed. He’d never caused any trouble in school, and whatever scrape he’d gotten into right after graduation, she’d never learned the details.
“The cops don’t think he was good,” Mr. Liston said. “You saw him right before?”
Haley hesitated, wondering what he was seeking. “Yes, I did.”
“They kept asking did he do drugs. My boy didn’t do no drugs. Not ever.”
“I believe you,” Haley said quickly, although she had no way to know anything about what Ray might have done. “He seemed just fine right before his accident.”
“You tell them cops that?”
“I did,” she assured him. “I promise. He was just fine.”
That seemed to ease Mr. Liston’s mind a bit. She gave Mrs. Liston a brief hug then moved away, determined to get out of here.
Enough, she thought, her eyes starting to prickle unwontedly. The smell of flowers, the peculiar odor of this funeral home, was starting to get to her. The last time...no, she didn’t want to think about the last time, when she’d been the one standing there in Mrs. Liston’s place, accepting condolences from kind people, few of whom would ever understand, not really, how much her mother’s death hurt, or what a relief it was after all that suffering.
Of course, she heard all the platitudes, and they were all true, but none of them could possibly ease the pain and confusion. Not one.
She had become motherless at twenty-three, after a descent into hell that had lasted more than five years. Inside she’d felt hollowed out, except for the grief. No platitude for that.
She was almost at the door when she heard her name. “Haley.”
She froze a moment, then turned reluctantly. Buck Devlin stood there, clad in a tan work shirt and jeans. He’d have looked out of place among all the locals dressed in their Sunday best if it hadn’t been for the few remaining truckers.
“Buck,” she said cautiously.
“I wanted to apologize. Can you give me a minute? Just a minute out front. Plenty of people, so you don’t have to be scared.”
He looked earnest enough, but that wasn’t what grabbed her.
Scared?
She didn’t like that. Maybe she had felt a momentary fear the night before, but she wasn’t feeling it now. She wasn’t a naturally scared sort of person, and it irritated her that he might think she was.
“Sure. Just a few minutes, though.”
Outside, they stepped off the sidewalk a few paces so they wouldn’t block the people who were coming and going. Dusk was just settling over the world.
She just looked at him, waiting, reluctant to give him an inch.
“I’m sorry I made you uneasy,” he said. “So maybe I should explain a few things.”
“That might help.”
“For starters, I’m not exactly on vacation.”
She folded her arms tightly beneath her breasts, her guard slamming into place. “So you’re a liar?”
“No.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his dark hair, cut high and tight, almost military style. “I’m on vacation in one sense. Legitimately. That’s how my company has me listed right now.”
“So what’s the not exactly part?”
“My company also asked me to look into what happened to Ray and what might have been going on in your parking lot that night. We’re having problems with shipments.”
She looked at him, her jaw dropping. “I’m supposed to believe that? You’re a truck driver, Buck Devlin. Why would they ask you?”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Could you hold it down? I don’t want the whole world to know.”
“That you’re a storyteller? Got any more tall tales for me?”
“It’s not a tall tale. Yes, I’m a driver now. But before that, I was a military cop. That’s why the company asked me to look into this. They don’t want to bring the feds in because it could kill business.”
“Prove it,” she said shortly. What kind of idiot did he take her for? Angry about being lied to, she stormed toward her car. Damn, he wasn’t even a
good
liar.
“Haley.”
She didn’t stop. Not that it made any difference. He was beside her before she reached her car.
“Just listen,” he said. “Please.”
“I may be a small-town girl, but I’m not stupid. I think I’ve heard enough.”
He caught her arm, and when she tried to pull free, he didn’t let go. That made her even madder. “I’ll scream.”
“Dammit, Haley, just let me finish. My company’s been having problems with our shipments. You saw something happening with Ray’s truck that night. You recognized him in the diner. You talked to him. Less than an hour later he’s dead. If Ray’s death wasn’t an accident, then you’re the proverbial loose end.”
That froze her. Her ears buzzed and the world seemed to rock beneath her. Haley leaned against her car, waiting for it to settle down again. What the hell was going on?
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But there’s no easy way to tell you. Is there some place we can talk where you’ll feel safe but half the town won’t hear me?”
She might have laughed if she wasn’t still feeling so shaken. Anger had turned to shock in an instant, and her brain was having trouble making the adjustment. “Around here? Anybody who wants a private conversation here has it at home.” And that was the truth.
He let go of her arm. “Are you okay?”
“I will be. I always am.” She knew that for a fact. Still leaning against her car, she closed her eyes and tried to take it all in. What if he wasn’t lying? And what if what she had seen, or thought she had seen, had something to do with Ray’s death? How many people knew? Two cops. Claire and Hasty. And that other driver she had never seen before, the one who had come in for coffee with Ray. The one who, now that she thought about it, had probably been driving the other truck when the cargo had been transferred. God!
She opened her eyes and saw Buck watching her with evident concern.
“I’m sure,” he said, “you don’t want to come to the La-Z-Rest with me. I’m equally certain you don’t want me to know where you live. So where else will you feel safe while we talk?”
Haley nodded as her mind stopped reeling. The whole town was going to be talking if she and Buck stood here any longer. “Do you know where the college campus is?”
“Yeah. I walked around some today.”
“I’ll see you there in fifteen minutes.” She didn’t offer him a ride. That would make people talk, too. But over on the college campus there were people who weren’t local. A stranger wouldn’t stick out and tongues wouldn’t start wagging. “There are some benches in the center of the quad.” And there’d still be plenty of students and faculty around at this hour, even if it was summer.
“Fifteen minutes,” he agreed.
She drove off, glancing at him in her rearview mirror, and wondering what the heck she had just gotten into.
* * *
Buck had spent the day wandering. A need to know the physical territory was ingrained in him. He’d hit a surplus shop and found a decent pair of lace-up boots he could run in, and added some extra jeans and some shirts that would fit in around here, although he didn’t go for anything approaching the perennially popular Western look. A ball cap suited him better than a cowboy hat, and he wasn’t putting anything on his feet that might keep him from moving fast.
He could have run to the campus. In fact, he would have liked to run, it would have felt good, but he figured it would draw attention. A brisk walk would have to do, and he still arrived at the quad on campus before Haley.
He sat there on the bench, wondering if she would even show, or if he’d find himself talking to a couple of cops, explaining why he was harassing a nice local girl.
He wondered about it, but he didn’t worry about it. He didn’t worry about much, and he was fairly sure that even a superficial background check would reassure the cops. The stuff they’d never see, the stuff so deeply classified it would never see the light of day, was another story. But nobody could get at that.
So he waited, pondering how best to gain Haley’s trust after having given her plenty of reason to think he was either crazy or a con man. He could see it from her point of view. Seeing things from other people’s points of view was one of his gifts—and one of his curses.
She was right to be dubious, and he sure as hell hadn’t given her a thing to reassure her. Wild story from a stranger. Great start.
But she showed up. He heard the car door slam and turned his head in time to see her coming his way.
She was still wearing the simple black dress she had worn at the funeral home and he couldn’t resist giving her the once-over. Trim figure, shapely calves, delicate ankles. Even so modestly dressed she wouldn’t ever fail to catch a man’s attention. Much to his surprise, she carried two large cups of takeout coffee and when she reached him, she handed him one.
“Okay,” she said as she sat on the bench beside him. A group of young men and women emerged from a building and started walking across the far side of the quad from them. Not long after, a smaller group appeared.
“I’m waiting,” she reminded him.
“Somebody know you’re here?”
“Of course.”
“With me?”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “I hope you trust whoever it is.”
“More than I trust you right now.”
“Just tell me you didn’t tell them the whole story.”
“Of course not! Sheesh, Buck, I don’t believe it myself yet. It sounds like something out of a movie.”
“I’ll give you that.” He put his coffee on the ground beside his feet and pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he flipped out his military ID and his commercial driver’s license. “The ID doesn’t say much, but maybe it’ll help.”
She peered at the two laminated cards in the dim light from a nearby pole. “How can you still be military and drive a truck?”