What You Wish For (27 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: What You Wish For
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Rain dripped down the inside of his collar and into his shoes. He hated cold feet. When your feet were cold and wet you caught a cold. At least that's what Helen used to say. Helen said a lot of things. Most, if not all, were bullshit little ditties that he never paid any attention to. He paid for the gas and ordered a large coffee to go. He smiled at the trooper and made an inane comment about the weather. The trooper grunted as he ordered his own coffee.
Rather than go back outside so the trooper could see him get into the Nissan, Daniel looked around for the rest room. It would be better if the trooper left first. When he exited the rest room he was stunned to see the trooper sipping his coffee as he talked to the cashier. The Nissan was the only car in the lot. “Fuck,” he hissed as he shouldered his way through the door.
“Take it easy out there, sir. The roads are icing up.” Daniel raised his finger to show he heard the trooper's words before he ran toward the car, the scalding coffee sloshing down his pant leg.
Daniel drove on until he saw the entrance to I-95. He stopped the car, debating with himself. Did Helen get back on the interstate or was she sticking to the secondary road? The old Helen would have stayed on the secondary road. The new Helen would be gutsy and go the interstate route. He'd whip this new Helen back into shape as soon as he got his hands on her. He risked a glance at the temperature gauge. It now read a degree lower than the last time he looked. “Goddamn pissy-ass car,” he seethed. He should be in one of the bigger rigs, like Helen. He wasn't going to think about the accident back on 95. It could have been him. Too damn bad it wasn't his fucking wife. All his problems would have been solved. He shivered. Even though the heater was turned full blast, he felt cold and clammy. His feet were like blocks of ice. Helen would be warm and cozy inside the big rig she was driving. His shoulders started to shake with cold rage at the circumstances he found himself in. “I swear to God, Helen, you're going to pay for this. I won't tolerate this kind of behavior.”
He drove on, careful to stay in the same tracks the Ford Taurus and the cars ahead of him made. Slush was better than ice. Slower but safer.
He was nine cars behind the Pathfinder and the small blue Honda Civic driven by Julia Martin.
The moment Sam saw the flashing blue-and-red lights and the medivac helicopter, he knew he had to get off the highway. Without taking his foot off the gas pedal, he swerved to the left, crossed the median strip, and headed north. If it was a mistake, he would have to live with it. There was no way he could sit in traffic for hours. For all he knew, Helen could have done the same thing he was doing. Get off, follow the road, and watch for an entrance sign to I-95. It couldn't be more than one town away. At the moment it seemed his only option.
Thirty minutes later he was back on the interstate, the accident miles behind him.
He cranked up the heater and wondered if he would die from all the smoke inside the Blazer. He opened the window. By God, when this was all over he was going to get one of those nicotine patches and quit smoking once and for all.
“Damn!” The single word exploded from his mouth like a gunshot when he saw the rain literally turn to snow in front of his eyes. His eyes started to water when he remembered past winters when he and Max romped in the snow. God, how he missed that dog. Helen wouldn't let anything happen to Max. Max wouldn't let anything happen to Helen. He smiled when he thought of the little fur ball named Lucie and how she liked to lick his face. It had taken the Yorkie a long time to warm up to him, and the day she finally let him pick her up was one of the highlights of his relationship with Helen. They were a family, goddamn it. No asshole wife beater was going to change that. Not if he had anything to say about it.
Ahead of him were pinpoints of red. Somehow, in his reverie, he'd let up on the gas pedal. He pressed downward, turned on his left-hand signal, and moved into the middle lane. It was impossible to see the cars on his right or his left. For all he knew he could be driving alongside Daniel Ward or Helen. He kept his gaze glued to the tiny red dots in front of him as he wondered where the hell he was.
24
Helen cracked the window a bit and was rewarded with a fine spray of snow. The dogs reared to attention as some of the snowflakes spiraled backward. “It's okay,” Helen said soothingly. “I just need a little fresh air. I hate to tell you this, but I have no clue as to where we are at the moment.” A quick glance in the rearview mirror told her the dogs were listening intently to her voice. She risked another glance at the big Lab, who reacted to her soothing voice by lying down. She continued to watch as he moved one big paw to draw Lucie closer to him.
It would be light soon, at which point the world would turn white and dangerous. She needed to get off the interstate and head to safety. She hadn't seen one of the green road signs for a long time. She worried that she might have missed it. She realized how tense she was, how very tired she'd become during the past hour. She wasn't sure, but she thought she felt feverish. She did her best to convince herself that it was the heat in the car and the heavy jacket she was wearing that were making her feel sweaty and chilly at the same time.
Helen reached across the console for the second thermos. She settled it between her legs for a secure grip and unscrewed the top. It wasn't hot, but it was still warm. She gulped at the strong brew. Afraid to take her eyes off the road in front of her, her hand snaked out again to her purse on the seat. She rummaged until she found the aspirin bottle. Somehow she managed to unscrew the cap and tilt the bottle to her lips. Capping the bottle wasn't as easy as uncapping it, but she managed. She didn't feel one bit better.
She saw it then, the huge green sign high overhead. She wondered what would happen if it fell from its cables. Probably kill everyone in its path, she decided. According to the giant sign, an exit was one mile down the road on the right. She slowed the Pathfinder until the lights ahead of her were pale pink blurs in the distance. She didn't want to lose sight of the comforting lights entirely, so she increased the pressure on the accelerator. Her grip on the steering wheel was sweaty. Her neck and back felt stiff from sitting hunched over the wheel.
The outside world grew brighter and lighter. The snow was all about her. A world of whiteness. A deadly world of whiteness.
Helen pep-talked herself as she inched the Pathfinder along the clogged highway.
This, Helen, is probably one of the stupidest things you've ever done in your life. Second only to marrying Daniel Ward.
He was out there. Probably close by. Would he follow her when she got off the exit? If he could see her, if he knew what kind of car she was driving, he would be right on her tail. It was also possible that he had kept on going when she stopped at the last rest stop. Maybe Lady Luck was on her side and he was ahead of her instead of behind her. Maybe those lights ahead of her were his. She shivered inside the warm vehicle.
Minutes later, Helen veered to the right just in time. She broke out in a sweat when she realized she'd almost missed the turnoff.
Snow surrounded her, but at least it was light out, the world a grayish white, making it impossible to distinguish the sky from the ground. She drove carefully, trying to follow the tracks in front of her. Her biggest fear was driving off an embankment. The ache between her shoulder blades intensified. Her eyes were dry and itchy from the heat in the Pathfinder. She thought it strange that she should feel parched since her hands were clammy with sweat.
She saw the motel, the gas station, and something called Truckers' Haven through a gossamer veil of snow. “Thank you, God,” she murmured as she inched the Pathfinder to the cutoff that would lead her to the array of colored lights ahead. Her body was shaking badly when she turned off the engine in front of the motel. She had to close her eyes and take deep breaths until she felt calm enough to gather her purse and open the door. “I'll be right back,” she said to the dogs.
The heat of the motel lobby slammed her in the face when the door closed behind her. Helen's vision blurred when she read the small sign on the registration desk. “This is a child-and pet-friendly establishment.” She registered for two nights and paid cash along with a hundred-dollar deposit for any damage the dogs might do.
Helen jammed the key into her pocket. Her next stop was Truckers' Haven, where she bought a container of piping hot vegetable soup, a large coffee for herself, and hamburgers for the dogs.
The last thing she did was walk the dogs through the hard-driving snow before heading to the sanctuary of the motel. She counted four cars in the parking area. None of them appeared to be silver. Later on, she would check the parking area again.
Inside the cozy room, she double-locked the door and towel-dried the dogs. She fed them slowly before she placed the Styrofoam takeout tray filled with water on the floor.
Helen ate every drop of the soup and crackers before she gulped down two more aspirins with the coffee. She turned on the television for noise and a small sense of normalcy as the dogs prowled and sniffed every inch of the strange room before they hopped onto the bed where they watched her expectantly.
She felt like she should do something. Maybe this was the time to call Sam to let him know she was all right. She should probably call Julia, too. Sam would be getting dressed for work, perhaps showering. Julia would be in the kitchen helping with breakfast. Both of them would be doing what they did every day of their lives.
Instead she headed for the bathroom. Perhaps she would feel better after a nice hot shower and a few hours of sleep.
Helen lingered under the hot shower until the water started to cool. Even though she'd turned up the thermostat, she shivered. Both dogs were panting with the heat in the room. Shaking, she turned it down before she crawled between the sheets. The minute the dogs snuggled next to her, her trembling body relaxed. Her last conscious thought before falling asleep was to wonder how she would dig out the Pathfinder if the snow continued.
 
Helen opened her eyes. She knew in an instant where she was. The red numerals on the bedside clock said it was 3:10 in the afternoon which meant she'd slept almost eight hours. She felt better, less achy, and she could move her neck without pain. She dressed quickly so she could walk the dogs.
It was still snowing lightly. Helen gasped when she opened the door and snow blew into her motel room. Lucie whined and backed up, while Max strained at his leash to go forward. In her life, she'd never seen this much snow. She picked up Lucie, her grip on Max's leash secure as she tried to avoid the deepest snow. Snowblowers whined and wheezed as the maintenance crew struggled to clear the parking lot.
“And here I am with no gloves, no shovel, and no boots,” Helen mumbled. She walked to the end of the building and around to the Dumpster, where Max lifted his leg and Lucie squatted.
On her way back to her room, Helen's gaze searched out the parked cars. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she realized there was no silver car in the lot. It was entirely possible such a car could be parked on the other side of the motel, but she wasn't about to tramp through the knee-high snow to find out. She tapped one of the maintenance men on the back. “Is the interstate open?”
“Road crews have been out all day. Traffic is moving. It's letting up some. If you aren't in a hurry, I'd wait till morning.”
“I am in a hurry,” Helen said.
“Then drive carefully.” The snowblower whined to life again.
Helen picked her way over the packed snow to her room. “I'm going to get some coffee and a sandwich. Be good and don't bark while I'm gone.”
At Truckers' Haven, Helen ordered a large coffee, another container of soup, and a double order of meat loaf for the dogs. While she waited for her food order, she listened to a conversation between two truckers on the road conditions. According to one of the men, the northbound lanes were clogged with slow-moving traffic with very little sand. The southbound lane was wet and clear twenty-five miles farther on. It was this last statement that convinced Helen to move on.
When she got back to the motel, the dogs prowled the room, sniffing out the bathroom, all the corners as well as the closet before Lucie bellied under the bed while Max growled his displeasure. Helen watched through the window as the maintenance crews cleared the cars in the parking lot. They were working on hers now. The minute it was finished, she would check out, head for the interstate, and hope for the best.
Twenty minutes later, Helen loaded her baggage and the dogs into the Pathfinder and went to settle her motel bill. While she waited for the manager to inspect the room in regard to dog damage, the reservation clerk stared at her until Helen became uncomfortable. “Is something wrong?”
“Aren't you the lady with the two dogs who checked in early this morning?”
“Yes. They didn't do any damage. Both of them are well trained. Why do you ask?”
“Someone was looking for you earlier. He described you perfectly. We aren't allowed to give out any information regarding our guests, and there are other people staying here with animals.” At a nod from the manager, the clerk handed Helen her hundred-dollar deposit.
Helen bit down on her lower lip. “Did the man ask for me by name or did he tell you his name?”
“He didn't seem to know your name, but he did describe you and one of the dogs, whose name he said is Lucie. He didn't stay here if that's what you want to know.”
Helen felt a lump of fear form in her chest. She struggled to clear her throat. “He must be looking for someone else. My dog's name is Sugar. The other one is Duke. I hope he finds whomever he's looking for. Did you by any chance see him leave or what model car he was driving? Maybe it's someone I met back on the road at the last rest stop.”
“No, I'm sorry. It's been wild here. A lot of our help haven't been able to get in, so we're working with a skeleton crew. I really didn't pay attention to anyone in particular. Work crews, the police, the troopers, and stranded motorists took all my time. We let them use some of the empty rooms to get a few hours' sleep. At one point we had twelve cots set up in the lobby.”
Before hitting the road, Helen returned to Truckers' Haven to have the two thermos bottles filled with hot coffee. At the last second she picked up a pair of red mittens and a wool scarf from a rack next to the cash register. She paid for her purchases and once again started up the Pathfinder. She thanked God for the excellent heater. Even though she had half a tank of gas, she steered the 4 x 4 to the gas pump and was grateful that it was a full-serve station.
“Be careful,” the attendant said as he pocketed the twenty-dollar bill and handed out change. “Nice-looking animals,” he said as an afterthought. Helen nodded and inched her way forward so she could turn and head out of the area to the interstate.
It took her exactly two minutes to realize just how bad the roads were. She realized she'd made a serious mistake in leaving the warm, comfortable motel.
While the roads had been sanded earlier, they were still treacherous as new snow kept falling. There was no shoulder on either side of the road. Snow was piled high, possibly a foot or more, she judged. She crawled forward, her eyes straining to see ahead of her. She knew there were cars ahead of her—she could see pale blurs in the distance—but there didn't appear to be any cars behind her. If there were cars, they didn't have their lights on.
This was a dumb move, Helen. A really dumb move,
she thought.
Two things happened simultaneously when Helen reached the ten-mile marker. Max reared up and barked, his huge paws slamming against the window. Helen almost jumped out of her skin with the ferocity the big dog showed. She saw him then. Sam! She slammed her foot so hard on the brakes the Pathfinder fishtailed and then swung around entirely. “Sam!”
“Easy, Max, easy,” Helen said excitedly as she reached over the seat to open the back door. The Lab bounded out into the snow, knocking Sam off his feet just as a gust of wind blew the door shut. Lucie whimpered, cowering against the back of the seat. Helen pressed the button that opened the window in time to hear Sam shout, “Helen! Helen, is it really you?” Sam laughed from his position in the snowbank. Max continued to growl, bark and lick his master's face.
“Sam!”
“Jesus, Helen! I've been riding up and down this interstate for hours looking for you. I skidded into this snowbank about four hours ago. I've been waiting for a tow truck ever since. Do you have any idea how worried I've been? Shit, who cares, I finally found you. Did I tell you how good it is to see you? Jesus, I love you, Helen. I don't even care if you're rich.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Helen took that particular moment to glance into her side-view mirror, conscious of the fact that she was blocking traffic in her lane. A second later, her rear wheels started to spin as she pressed her foot to the gas pedal. Free of the snow, the Pathfinder slewed ahead almost abreast of a silver car, whose driver was Daniel Ward.
Another dumb move, Helen. Beyond dumb, it was stupid You can't do anything right. Daniel was right about you when he said everything you touch you manage to screw up. Why didn't I wait one minute longer to give Sam and Max time to get in the truck? Why? God in heaven, how could I be so stupid. Because he would kill Sam. Maybe Max, too.

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