“Meg—” April dragged a piece of pita bread through the hummus on her plate “—please mind your own business.”
“I second that.” Kyle pinched Meg’s chin between his fingers and placed a kiss on her lips.
Meg and Kyle’s infatuation for each other left April and Clay free to discuss their morbid topic. The more April picked Clay’s brain about what he believed happened in New Mexico, the better prepared she’d be to do her own search. That search might go easier with Clay by her side, but he’d never agree to it and she’d already been warned about keeping away from him.
April’s eyes darted around the patio strung with lights. Could her tormenter be watching them right now?
By the end of the meal, April and Clay had abandoned their speculations and joined Meg and Kyle in more pleasant conversation. Meg had a glow about her that twisted a knife in April’s gut.
She couldn’t be happier for her cousin, but she missed that giddy feeling of uncomplicated love. She and Clay had that once. Or had they? Had her life ever been uncomplicated since the murder of her mother and the accusations against her father?
Clay had been here at the time of the murder, a brand-new Border Patrol agent. She’d been away at school and they didn’t start dating until she’d come back to Paradiso after the murder and after she’d graduated from college. The events swirling around her family had already tainted her by the time she met Clay, already changed her.
She’d been carefree, majoring in dance choreography, the world wide open. When she returned to school, she’d changed her major to accounting. She’d wanted stability, security, order. She’d been determined to take care of Adam, who’d gone into a treatment facility immediately after the murder.
Maybe that’s why she fell for Clay. He’d represented stability and security to her.
And then Adam had stripped that away from her, bit by bit. Her brother’s catastrophes had become hers.
Their dinner wrapped up with the two guys fighting over the bill until Meg plucked it from their dueling fingers and waved it and her card in the air for the waiter. “This was my party, and I’ll pay for it.”
Kyle bundled a tipsy Meg into his car and winked at April. “We’ll leave you two the house. I’m going to take Meg back to my place.”
As Kyle roared off, April raised her eyebrows at Clay. “Kinda pushy, isn’t he?”
“Are you okay at the house by yourself with the security system in place?”
“Of course.” April gave silent thanks to the dark desert night that hid her hot cheeks.
Clay was making it easy on her to stay away from him. She wouldn’t have to convince him to drop her off tonight. She wanted an early start for Phoenix tomorrow morning before Clay could even realize she’d left.
“I have my gun, too. I’ll be fine.”
Clay opened the door of his truck for her. “Are you going to try to talk to Adam tomorrow?”
“Yes.” She pulled the door from him and slammed it. Clay hadn’t asked if that conversation was going to take place face-to-face—and she wasn’t telling. She’d take that two-hour drive up to Phoenix and meet Adam’s plane. Then she’d present him with her proposition.
Clay aimed his truck out of town, back toward her house. The wine and the meal had a somnolent effect on her, and her eyelids drooped as she leaned her head against the window.
Clay turned down the music on the country station playing on the radio and hummed off-key to the song.
April’s lips curved into a smile. Clay had always been a lousy singer, but that never stopped him.
A loud noise reverberated in the truck, and April’s head banged against the window as Clay jerked the steering wheel.
Another crack came out of the night. The back window shattered, raining glass down on her head. She squeezed her eyes closed and screamed.
The truck squealed and the back wheels fishtailed on the road.
“What happened? What did you hit?” She peeled one eye open and focused on Clay’s profile.
His jaw tensed. “I didn’t hit a damned thing. Someone’s shooting at us...and he just got my tire.”
Chapter Fifteen
Clay wrestled with the steering wheel. It took all the strength he had to keep the truck on the asphalt—and he had to keep the truck on the asphalt.
If he swerved onto the shoulder, the truck could flip or skid out to a stop. They couldn’t stop. Whoever shot at them wanted to disable the vehicle. Wanted them to be stranded in the desert.
Through his teeth, he ground out, “Call 911 now. We just passed mile marker 11, just before the pecan grove.”
He heard April scramble for her phone as the truck rattled down the road, lurching to one side as the air escaped from his tire.
She spoke breathlessly into the phone, giving the details of their location, vehicle and situation.
Clay shifted his gaze to the rearview mirror and swore.
April ended the 911 call and cupped the phone between her hands. “What? What now?”
“I see lights behind us. The bastards are coming after us and our crippled truck.”
“Go faster, Clay.” April’s fingernails dug into his thigh through the denim of his jeans.
“I’m afraid to go too much faster on that bum tire. We’re riding on the rim now. The whole wheel could come off.”
“If they catch up to us, they’ll shoot out the other tire.” She twisted around in her seat. “I can’t see any lights, but then I think we went around a curve in the road.”
“How fast will the highway patrol be here?”
“The 911 operator said they were on their way. Out here, who knows how fast that is?” She snapped her fingers. “Your weapon. Give me your weapon.”
“You can’t go shooting into the dark.” He reached under
