But she still had the two million, or most of it, sitting in the bank. She thought about writing one big check to a charity or something, just to get rid of it, but she couldn’t seem to just
She didn’t know what was wrong with her, unless it was a reaction to the trauma. Dr. Meecham had given her some literature on it, and evidently people who had heart surgery often went through some emotional upheaval afterward. Because her case was so extreme, she should probably expect some difficulties in dealing with stuff. She could get through the day, she could handle the physical demands of her job, she could buy groceries and pay her bills, but other than that she wanted to spend her time curled up on her secondhand couch, wrapped in a blanket to keep her warm during the grueling midwestern winter, reading a book from the library. Deciding which books to check out was the toughest decision she could handle.
When her shift at Glenn’s was over and she trudged out into the snow, she wished she could make the decision to move farther south, but hell, winter would be over soon.
Spring might be close, but snow was still falling. The night sky was a thick, dark gray that said more snow was coming. She pulled her thick wool scarf up to cover her head and wrapped the ends around her neck to keep out the icy wind. Lowering her head into the wind, she trudged through the snow toward her red Explorer.
“Hey, Andie.”
Turning her head, she recognized Cassie as the woman climbed out of the cab of her Peterbilt. The big diesel engine was running, because a diesel was a bitch to start in cold weather. No matter how much fuel cost, having to pay for a jump-start and then factoring in the time lost meant that the rigs were never cut off during a run.
Inwardly Andie groaned. She didn’t want to get into a discussion about Cassie’s fortune, or lack of it, but other than walking off it didn’t look as if she had any other choice. She actually kind of liked Cassie, so she stopped and waited for her.
Cassie slipped a little bit on the ice, then reached Andie’s side. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car,” she said. “Where is it?”
“Over there,” said Andie, indicating the gravel lot off to the side, where the employee’s vehicles wouldn’t get in the way of the big rigs coming in or going out of the truck stop.
“I saw some guy watching you through the windows,” Cassie said, pitching her voice low so only Andie could hear her.
Andie skidded to a stop as her heartbeat kicked into a gallop. “A guy? What guy?”
“Just keep walking,” said Cassie calmly. “I don’t see him now, but I thought I’d make sure you got to your car okay.”
Words failed her, that someone she barely knew would go out of her way to make sure Andie was safe. “I’ll drive you back to your truck,” she managed to say. “That way you won’t be in any danger either.”
Cassie smiled down at her. She was a tall woman, lean and rangy, and even though she’d exchanged her high heels for boots she was still a good five or six inches taller than Andie. “We women have to watch each other’s asses, toots, and I don’t mean that like I’m hitting on you either.”
Andie snorted. She had watched Cassie in action often enough to know that the trucker didn’t swing that way. Immediately her attention switched back to the man Cassie had said was watching her. “What did he look like-that guy? Are you sure he was watching me?”
“Absolutely, positively. He watched you for a good five minutes, going back and forth. As for how he looked, hmm.” Cassie thought about it. “Tall and in good shape, but he was wearing a thick coat with the hood up, so that’s about all I can tell you. Even with the coat, though, you could tell he wasn’t a porker or anything.”
Most truckers weren’t what you’d call “in good shape,” but enough of them came through the truck stop that a guy who took care of himself wasn’t all that unusual. In the four months she’d worked there, Andie had probably seen a couple of hundred who matched that vague description. But none of them would have stood out in the snow watching her; each and every one of them would have come inside, ordered a cup of coffee, tried to talk to her there if he was interested.
A chill that had nothing to do with the weather ran down her back. The uneasy feeling that had chased her from Denver told her someone was on her trail. But who, and why? She had died. Short of actually staying dead and being buried, wasn’t that enough to shake
What if it wasn’t him, though? Who else could it be?
Someone knew who she was and where she was.
23
“YOU’RE RUNNING FROM SOMEONE, AREN’T YOU?” CASSIE asked as they reached the Explorer. “You know who this guy is?”
“God, I hope not,” Andie muttered, unlocking and opening the door. The interior light came on and they both checked the backseat as well as the luggage compartment in back. Both were empty. “I thought I’d lost him.”
“In this day and age, honey, it’s tough to shake someone who’s hell-bent on finding you. If he’s got your Social Security number, he can find you anywhere.”
“He doesn’t,” Andie said, certain of that. He might have her old Social Security number, but there was no way he could have the new one. Besides, Glenn didn’t report her earnings to the IRS, so even if she had been using the old number nothing would be reported on it. She began walking around the Explorer, looking for footprints in the snow that would tell her if anyone had been around or under her vehicle.
“Don’t forget about phone records,” Cassie continued. “When you call home, he can access your folks’ phone records and track you that way.”
“I don’t have any family. I haven’t called any old friends.” Not that she had any, unless she reached way back to middle school. Once she’d lost the baby, she’d turned her back on every emotional connection she’d ever had, not wanting to feel anything ever again. All she’d wanted to do was forget, to walk away and never look back, because to look back was to remember the crippling pain. She couldn’t go through that again, not ever.
She finished her circuit of the Ford-the snow was undisturbed. As she got behind the steering wheel, Cassie tromped around to climb into the passenger seat. “So maybe you have an admirer,” she said to Andie. “Has anyone been flirting with you?”
“Who has time to notice? We’re run off our feet in there. Unless someone pinches me, or pats my ass, I don’t even look at their faces.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen you ‘look at their faces’ a time or two. I thought one asshole was going to faint. What did you say to him?”
She knew exactly the incident Cassie was referring to, because her eyes and voice must have telegraphed her absolute sincerity to the driver, and he’d turned dead white. “I told him if he touched me again I’d stick a fork through his nuts.”
The old Andie-Drea-Andrea…hell, she didn’t know who she was anymore…would have pretended not to notice the pinch or the pat. She’d have been sweet and slightly vacant, not causing any problems, but inside she’d have been sick with anger and contemptuous that no one realized she was faking everything. Being dead had changed her in more ways than one, because she couldn’t act sweet and vacant now. She had buried her temper years ago, but in the past few months it had clawed its way to the surface and seemed determined to stay there.
Cassie threw back her head and laughed in appreciation. “I’m surprised he didn’t tell Glenn.”
“He did. Glenn told him to keep his fucking hands off the waitresses if he didn’t want his balls ventilated.” Andie smiled in memory. That was what she liked best about Glenn. Some guys would have been jerks and told the waitresses to put up with it, that he didn’t want to lose any customers, but not Glenn. One of his daughters had helped pay her way through college by working in a restaurant, so he had a different view of what waitresses sometimes endured.
As Andie carefully steered the Ford through the long lines of rumbling trucks toward Cassie’s rig, Cassie cleared
