8:50 p.m.
Highway 6

Melanie’s eyes begged to close. Even against the oncoming headlights she was unable to keep them open and remain alert. When was the last time she had slept? She honestly didn’t remember. The adrenaline had carried her this far, but when the sun went down it seemed her energy went down with it.

Charlie had been asleep in the back for almost an hour, according to the snores. Andrew Kane appeared wide-awake in the seat beside her, though his head leaned against the window. Melanie could see his eyes staring straight ahead. Jared looked wide-awake, too. Every time the oncoming headlights lit up the Taurus’s interior, Melanie caught him watching her in the rearview mirror.

Now she heard the rustling of the map from behind her and noticed a stream of light from the Maglite they had found in the glove compartment. There were other things they had found inside the Taurus, things that bothered Melanie for some reason. Instead of a Jesus picture tacked to the visor, there was a picture of a dark-haired woman hugging a little boy who shared her eyes.

On the floor in the front, Andrew had accidentally kicked a stuffed teddy bear. When he picked it up, Melanie was struck by how carefully he handled it, almost as if it were alive. He had laid it on the seat between them, and as much as Melanie didn’t want it there she could also not bring herself to move it. It reminded her too much of Charlie’s old stuffed Pooh bear. And the photo reminded her that this was a mother’s car they had taken. A mother who worked at that manufacturing plant, probably at a shitty job for shitty pay, just so she could take care of her little boy. And now the little boy wouldn’t have his teddy bear tonight.

“The next intersection should be Highway 34,” Jared said, startling her when he leaned up against the front seat. “Take a right.”

“I don’t think I can drive much farther, Jared.”

“I know. I’ve been watching you, Mel.” He put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve done a good job, Lil’ Sis.”

She glanced back at him in the rearview mirror, looking for sarcasm and not able to see a trace. When they were kids he used to call her Lil’ Sis whenever he took care of her, comforting her with that same reassuring tone that made her feel like everything would be okay. But sometimes even Jared wasn’t able to make things okay. Before she could determine whether or not he was still trying to take care of her, he was pointing over the seat at a billboard.

“We can get a room at that Comfort Inn. Looks like it’s just on the other side of Hastings.”

She almost asked if they could afford it, but stopped herself. She didn’t care if they could afford it. Just the thought of a hot shower and a soft bed perked her up. She pulled her shoulders back, stretching against the tightness, the knots of stress balled up in the middle of her shoulder blades. Yes, a hot shower and a good night’s sleep would make things better. And tomorrow? Who the hell cared about tomorrow? She had to take one day at a time, one hour at a time.

Melanie saw the brightly lit Comfort Inn sign and then the inn itself on the left side of the road. She smiled, a sense of relief for the first time since this nightmare began. Maybe this is what people meant by an oasis in the desert.

“Don’t pull up to the lobby. Park over there, away from the lights.” Jared was back to giving orders. She didn’t care. She just kept thinking of the hot shower and the cool sheets.

“When you go into the lobby don’t give them your real name. And say there’s only two of you.”

“But won’t they see us all come in to go to our room?”

“It looks like a motel. I think we can get in from our own door. If not, they usually have side doors. Once you have the key card we can get in through them.” More lecturing, more telling her what to do. “If you have to fill out any forms with address and stuff, put California and say you’re headed to Chicago.”

“Where in California?”

“I don’t give a fuck, Mel. Make something up. Jesus! I can’t think of everything.” He counted out eight twenty-dollar bills and handed them to her over the seat. “It shouldn’t be more than this.”

She looked at the rest of the money he still held in his hand. In the dim light of the parking lot she could tell there was more that four hundred dollars. She wanted to ask if he had taken some cash from the convenience store. She quickly decided she didn’t care about that, either.

The lobby was bright and cozy with a small sitting area to the right and a breakfast or snack area off to the side of the reception cubicle. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee accosted her as soon as she entered. She checked over her shoulder to see whether the Taurus was visible from the desk. Nothing. She’d done a good job parking it away and out of sight.

“God! That smells great,” she told the young man behind the counter. He actually looked pleased to have someone to talk to. The parking lot was pretty empty.

“Help yourself. I just made a fresh pot. Will you be staying with us this evening?” he asked as he began rounding up the necessary paperwork.

Her mind was on the coffee. It had been so long, too long, since she had given it up.

“Ma’am? Are you needing a room for this evening?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes. I will be.”

“Single or double?”

“Double. There are just two of us.” She checked his face. Just? Why the hell did she say just? But he hadn’t noticed.

She saw the small TV he had been watching on the counter behind him. She glanced at the wall clock. Not quite ten. The news would be coming on soon, and she didn’t want to see any of it. Not now when she could blow it. She wondered how much he had already seen or heard. Was he supposed to be reporting in to the police if anyone suspicious showed up? And then she wondered what would make someone look suspicious.

“Smoking or non?”

His question interrupted her paranoia. “Non,” she said out of habit, suddenly regretting that she hadn’t taken that pack out of the farmer’s car. She could use a smoke right about now.

“If you could just fill out this information. How will you be paying this evening?” He handed the paperwork to her, placing a pen on top.

“Cash,” she said, filling in the blanks on the form, pretending that the process didn’t require as much thought as it did. Melanie knew that the best policy was to let others do the talking. KMS was what she lived by—Keep Mouth Shut. Too much information and people looked at you more closely. She didn’t need to be remembered. She knew how to blend in. That’s what she needed to do now. Just look the part of a weary traveler.

“That’s $74.90. Let me get your change. The coffee is complimentary, twenty-four hours a day. We have a free continental breakfast from six till nine-thirty available over in our breakfast area.” He pointed across the lobby, then counted out her change, took the form, looked it over and set it aside.

She almost sighed out loud. Why was this so much harder than blending in with shoppers at the mall, and slipping out of stores with merchandise she hadn’t paid for?

“Here are your key cards. Your room number is listed on the inside of this folder. And let me show you where it is.” He pulled out a paper and showed her on the diagram of the hotel. “We’re here. You just drive around back and the door is the fourth from the north. Any questions?”

“Can I come back for the coffee?”

“Oh, sure. Each room has a door to the hallway inside, too, so you don’t have to go outside. I’ll be here all night. I’ll make sure there’s plenty fresh for you.” He gave her a genuine smile.

“Okay.” She turned to leave. She stopped at the door and over her shoulder said, “Thanks.” It was the first time in a very long time that she truly felt thankful.