Next of Kin

by Sharon Sala

  “Do they hurt?”

  “Some.”

  “Want me to open your soda for you?”

  Beth was surprised by the kindness of the offer and almost smiled. “Yes, please.”

  He took her money, then unscrewed the soda cap and pushed the bottle across the counter.

  The condensation burned a little, but the cold felt good on the scratches.

  “Thanks, mister. Look, I have a ride on the way. Not sure how long it’ll take for them to get here. Okay if I wait up front?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said, then watched her walk away.

  Beth found a spot where she could see traffic coming and going, and settled down to wait. A couple of minutes later she heard the clerk walking up behind her. He was carrying the stool he’d been sitting on.

  “Might as well have a seat while you wait.”

  Thankful for the kindness of strangers, she nodded. “Thank you.”

  She eased down onto the stool, grateful to take weight off her sore knee. Once she was settled, she opened the honey bun and took a bite. The slightly crunchy sugar-sweet icing and the soft, sweet bread tasted as good as anything she’d had in days. She finished it off, washing down bites with intermittent sips from the Coke while watching the traffic.

  Cars came and went, as well as an occasional pickup or an SUV, but no big rigs. She made a quick trip to the bathroom again, then washed the sugar off her hands and finally used the antiseptic cream on her cuts before she came back out to resume her wait.

  It was coming up on thirty minutes since she’d talked to Uncle Will, and she was getting anxious. She was about to call him again when she saw a semi pull to a stop at the traffic light down the street.

  Her heart started pounding as she got to her feet. Was this her ride? Please, God, let it be! She needed to get out of this city.

  The truck took a right at the light.

  Her heart skipped a beat. It was coming this way! Oh, God, please let this be my ride.

  Air brakes squeaked and hissed as the semi pulled up at the pumps. Big rigs used diesel, but this one had stopped at the gas pumps, which meant he wasn’t here for fuel. Unconsciously, she pulled her purse around in front of her like a shield and watched as the driver swung down from the cab.

  He was a stocky man of average height, maybe in his mid-forties, with warm brown skin and long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. He was wearing faded blue jeans, a green John Deere T-shirt and cowboy boots run down at the heels. He walked with an easy stride, and when he saw her standing inside the doorway, a slow smile spread across his face.

  If this wasn’t her ride, it suddenly hit her that he might think she was a hooker. Alone at this time of night, blatantly visible in the lighted doorway, it could easily appear as if she were soliciting. She took a quick step back and held her breath. Then the door opened, and she saw the expression in his eyes. Empathy. Kindness.

  “Angel?”

  Beth felt like weeping. God bless Uncle Will. He’d done it.

  She nodded.

  “I hear you’re in need of a ride.”

  “Yes, please.”

  He held out his hand. When she reached for it, he saw her palm and stopped.

  “You’re hurt.”

  “It’s not so bad,” she said softly.

  Bo glanced at the clerk and frowned, then slid his hand protectively onto Beth’s shoulder.

  “My name’s Bo. Come on, Angel. Let’s get you out of here.”

  Special Agent Ames was not a happy camper. Not only were his superiors ticked, but the state attorney general was also furious. Everyone above him was on his ass for losing their witness. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t even been on the premises when it happened. He was the lead on the case, and their only witness against Ike Pappas was gone.

  He’d already gotten a snide, in-your-face phone call from Detective Burroughs at the LAPD asking if it was true that they’d lost Beth Venable. He hadn’t answered, because he didn’t have to, but he didn’t like the man’s attitude. However, it was Burroughs’s next question that made his gut knot. That one he’d already asked a dozen times himself.

  “How do you know she’s running? What if the shots from out front were nothing but a ruse, so someone could drag her out the window?”

  Ames didn’t answer Burroughs and soon disconnected. His gut was telling him that she was on the run. If Pappas’s men had seen her in that bedroom, he was convinced they would have simply shot her. They wanted her dead, not held for ransom. However, what he thought was immaterial. Right now it was just a waiting game to see how long it took for her body to show up. Or maybe they would get lucky. Because if she was on the run, she would eventually slip up—use a credit card, make a phone call, do something they could trace—and then they could go get her. He was praying for the latter, but fearing the worst.

  Four

  Adam Pappas was taller than Ike, but he had his father’s swarthy complexion and muscular build. His hair was black and wavy, his eyes dark and soulful, and he knew the ladies loved him, both for his looks and his money. He’d known before he was twelve what his father did, even though his mother had tried to hide it. Instead of being horrified, he’d been intrigued. By the time he was sixteen, he’d made it perfectly clear to Ike that he wanted to follow in his footsteps. He knew his father had been surprised, but he’d also seen a measure of pride that only added to his intent. The only rule between them had been that his mother must never know.

  And now she wouldn’t. For Adam, watching the pallbearers carrying her casket to the grave site felt like an out-of-body experience. He could not believe he would never hear her voice again, or feel her arms around his neck. Knowing how she’d died made him sick with anger. All he wanted now was five minutes alone with the son of a bitch who’d killed her. He didn’t want the man caught and arrested. He wanted him dead, and he was doing everything in his power to make that happen. He had connections of his own, and the word was out that he would pay a lot for a name. With that news out on the street, the assortment of mob bosses at the funeral was telling. None of them wanted to be conspicuously absent and unintentionally incriminate themselves by giving the Pappas family the impression that they weren’t sorry for what had happened.

  The head of the Russian Mafia had sent a huge basket of flowers.

  The leader of the Chinese tong had come to the house last night to pay his respects, and the drug lord from the barrio had been the first one to speak to Adam at the church.

  T-Boy Lollis, who ran women and numbers in South Central L.A., had been trying to catch his eye ever since the prayer service began at the cemetery. If Adam hadn’t been so heartsick about his mother’s murder, it would have been comical. Thank God for his father, who’d been a rock through the entire ordeal. He glanced up at Ike, then unconsciously stood a little taller, a little straighter, measuring his worth against his father’s power.

  Ike was hiding his expression behind dark glasses, hoping it came across as subdued sorrow for his son as well as the death of his ex-wife. He had a plan to make this go away, but he had to get rid of the witness first. After that, he would find a patsy to take the fall for Lorena’s murder and the problem would be solved.

  When he saw tears rolling down Adam’s face, he slid an arm across his son’s shoulder, pulling him close, blood of his blood, flesh of his flesh…and cold enough to take him out if he ever found out what he had done.

  Beth crawled up into the sleeper bunk of the truck cab behind Bo Jackson’s seat. She stretched slowly, easing her bruised knee into a comfortable position, and then noticed the photo taped to the low ceiling above the bed. A pretty, dark-eyed woman holding a baby, with two other children standing beside her. She guessed this was Bo Jackson’s family. She thought of all the time he had to spend away from them just to give them a good life and wondered how he coped. Then she rolled over onto her side and closed her eyes.

  Hours later, when she woke, there was a moment of panic, of trying to remember w
here she was; then she saw the picture and relaxed. She rolled over and parted the curtains, saw the long black ponytail hanging down the back of Bo’s head, then looked over his shoulder to daylight on the horizon.

  Bo heard her stirring.

  “You okay back there?”

  “Yes.” She was stiff and sore as she climbed out of the bunk and into the seat beside him. “Where are we?”

  “Coming into Flagstaff, Arizona. This is where I leave you. Your next ride will be with a trucker named Rob Louis.”

  There was something that needed to be said, and Beth had to say it before they parted company.

  “I don’t know what Uncle Will told you, but I want you to know that you saved my life.”

  Bo eyed her briefly. “I’m glad I was able to be there for you at the right place and time.” He dug a cold bottle of water out of a small ice chest, opened it, then handed it to her before he exited the highway and began winding his way through city streets. Before long they were pulling into the shipping yard of a large warehouse. Several eighteen-wheelers were in the process of being loaded and unloaded.

  “Sit tight while I go find Rob,” Bo said.

  Beth dug the painkillers out of her purse, downed them with a gulp of water, then called her uncle Will. This time he answered before the second ring.

  “Bethie?”

  “We’re in Flagstaff, Uncle Will. Bo said I’m supposed to ride with a man named Rob Louis. Is that right?”

  Will heard the uncertainty in her voice and hated it that he wasn’t right there.

  “Yes, that’s right. I know you’re uneasy about getting into trucks with total strangers, but I need you to understand. I know these men. I wouldn’t pick one I didn’t trust you with, okay?”

  Beth felt easier. “Okay. Where are you now, Uncle Will?”

  “I’m southbound on the I-29, driving through South Dakota. I’ll meet up with you in Oklahoma and take you the rest of the way myself.”

  “When will you sleep? Aren’t there rules about driving only a certain number of hours before you have to stop and rest?”

  “I picked up a friend who’s riding shotgun with me. He’ll take over after we cross into Nebraska, and I’ll catch a few hours’ sleep.”

  “Does Granny Lou know I’m coming?”

  “Yes, honey. Don’t you worry. I’ve talked to her twice since your call. She’s organizing stuff on her end. All you need to know is that you’re no longer alone in this.”

  She struggled to keep the tears out of her voice as she said, “I can’t wait to see you.”

  “It won’t be long.”

  “Okay. I love you, Uncle Will.”

  “I love you, too.”

  She dropped the phone back in her purse, and then wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Whoever Rob Louis was, she didn’t think he would want a bawl-baby hitchhiker in the seat beside him. All of a sudden the door opened. Bo pulled himself up onto the steps and then held out a hand.

  “Your ride is here. Do you have all your gear?”

  She slid the purse strap over her shoulder and nodded.

  Bo steadied her elbow. “Easy does it,” he said, as he helped her down.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much,” she said.

  His dark eyes softened. “You’re welcome, Angel.”

  At that point a tall, heavyset man walked up. “Is this Angel?”

  Bo grinned. “It sure is. Angel, this is Rob. He’ll take you from here. Safe journey.”

  Rob seemed aware of her hands and didn’t offer to shake them. What he did do was smile, then point toward his truck.

  “That’s my baby. Her name is Missy. She’s the prettiest purple truck on the road. Don’t mean to be rude, but I thought you might want to wash up a bit before we head out.”

  “If that’s a polite way of asking if I need to use the bathroom, then I’m saying yes.”

  Rob grinned. “Then let’s get this show on the road. I always wanted an angel riding with me. I finally got my wish.”

  It had been raining on the mountain since noon. Ryal was in his woodworking shop, hand-sanding a small table he’d just finished and listening to the rain peppering down on the roof. It was times like this that fed his soul—the peace of living on the mountain while working at a job he loved. If he could only shake the feeling of dread, he would be completely satisfied.

  A few moments later a large clap of thunder rocked the mountain, rattling the glass in the windows enough that he jumped. At that same moment, his cell phone rang. A little surprised that he was able to get a signal during this kind of weather, he glanced at the caller ID, then frowned.

  Lou Venable.

  He couldn’t imagine why Granny Lou would be calling him. He hadn’t seen or talked to her since the Walker/Venable family reunion two months ago. Curious, he answered quickly.

  “Hello?”

  “Ryal, this is Lou Venable. We got a problem, son, and I’m gonna be needin’ your help.”

  Ryal’s gut knotted. This explained the sick, unsettled feeling he’d been having.

  “Yes, ma’am. What’s wrong?”

  “Beth is in bad trouble. She witnessed a murder, and now the killer is after her.”

  Ryal’s heart stopped. Beth in danger? She might not love him anymore, but he couldn’t think of a world without her in it.

  “A murder?”

  “Yes. The killer is some big L.A. crime boss. He’s already tried twice to kill her. The last time it happened she went out a window during all the gunfire and ran. She called my boy, Will. He set up a relay with some of his trucker friends to get her away. They’re bringing her here to Rebel Ridge, and we need a place to hide her until the Feds can get a handle on this mess.”

  He didn’t care why Lou had called him, or take a second to wonder how he would feel to see Beth again.

  “You know I’ll help. Just let me think a minute about where to hide her.”

  “I wouldn’t be askin’ this of your people except we fear if anyone figures out where she’s gone, they’ll immediately assume it would be to the Venables—not to her mama’s side of the family. I realize this might be a bit uncomfortable between the two of you, considerin’ you used to be a bit sweet on each other.”

  Ryal closed his eyes, remembering how it felt to be inside Beth’s body. Sweet on her wasn’t the term he would have used.

  “Kin is kin, Granny Lou, no matter how distant, and you know it. We’re happy to help.”

  “And we thank you.”

  “How much time do we have before she gets here?” Ryal asked.

  “Probably no more than another twenty-four hours. Will was in the Dakotas when she called him, and he’s driving hard to get to her. I’ll let you know more when I hear from him again.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Don’t you worry. We’ll figure out a good place to keep her out of sight.”

  Beth didn’t talk much on her leg of the trip with Rob Louis, because Rob never stopped talking long enough to let her. She heard about his life from his first memory at the age of three right up to last year, when he’d gotten divorced from his third wife. They’d stopped in Albuquerque to get fuel and some food. About the only time Beth had spoken through lunch was when she’d given the waitress her order.

  When they got back in the truck, Rob began getting some chatter on his CB radio. Beth took the opportunity to crawl into the sleeper bunk, where she noticed the only pictures taped to his ceiling were of him holding a succession of really big fish.

  She fell asleep and dreamed of Ryal standing naked beneath the little waterfall above the creek that ran behind his home, and in her dream she cried when he suddenly disappeared.

  When she woke it was late afternoon. She crawled out of the bunk and back into the seat. Right after that, they had to pull over at a weigh station. She took advantage of the stop to take a bathroom break. About a half hour later they were back on the road. Rob picked up his conversation right where he’d left off, as if she hadn’t been absent for several hours,
and talked all the way to Amarillo. Finally he changed lanes and angled toward an exit off Interstate 40.

  “This is where we part company. I go north to Denver from here. You’ll be riding the rest of the way with ol’ Hank.”

  Beth didn’t know who ol’ Hank was, but she hoped he was the strong, silent type. She was thankful for Rob’s participation in her trip, but grateful she wouldn’t have to listen to him talk any longer. He was starting to repeat himself.

  “Come on inside, Angel. We’ll eat us some supper in here, and by the time we’re done, Hank oughta be here. He’s coming in on the I-27 from Lubbock.”

  True to his word, they were finishing up their meal when Beth saw Rob’s face light up. She turned to look as a giant of a man entered. He was huge, both in height and girth, but there was something about the way he looked at her when they were introduced that relieved whatever anxiety she’d been feeling.

  “Is this the angel?”

  Rob nodded. “It sure is, and she’s a sweetheart. Angel, this is Hank Wilson. He’s taking you the rest of the way into Oklahoma City to meet Will.”

  Hank read the nervousness on her face, saw the condition of her hands and clothes, and wanted to put her at ease.

  “It’s a real pleasure to meet you, Angel. You put me in mind of my oldest granddaughter, Patty, who happens to be the light of my life.”

  At the mention of granddaughters, Beth started to relax. “I’m glad to meet you, too.”

  Beth noticed Rob was getting up to leave. “Thank you for everything, Rob, including the food, the ride and the conversation. I don’t know what my uncle told you, but you’re all helping save my life.”

  Rob patted her on the head. “Stay safe, Angel,” he said, then thumped Hank on the back. “She’s all yours. Take good care of her.”

  Hank sat down at the table with Beth and waved at a waitress, who headed their way.

  “I need a couple of burgers with fries on the side and a large sweet tea to go.”

  “You got it,” she said, and hurried away to place the order.