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Dewayne would give up the search. After what her friend had given, she had to be successful in her escape, else Lauren’s early demise would be in vain. Lauren’s death gave her one more reason to hate Dewayne. He’d caused the explosion and the fire. Of that she was certain.
    Her camping spot faced the dilapidated travel court rooms. They were connected by small garages. At one time they’d been the height of fashion as far as motels went. Now they resembled skeletons of a time gone by. The once-graveled parking area hosted weeds and grasses. Trash blown in on the wind littered the area. Fortunately, the spot where she’d parked was less overgrown, and she’d deemed it safe to place the lantern several feet from the foot of the recliner so she wouldn’t be lit from behind.
    The sky above her resembled an endless length of dark blue velvet whose uneven surface gave it shades and textures. Stars dotted the expanse, and a few twinkled. She closed her eyes and pulled the blanket up around her shoulders. The air, though crisp, smelled clean and refreshing. It was peaceful here. If only things were different—if she were in a different place in her life, not on the run and hiding from Dewayne.
    Yet, if that were the case, would she be out here in the middle of nowhere? Alone? For all she knew, she wasn’t by herself. Anyone could be out there beyond the lamplight. Her skin prickled. Should she get in the van and head farther west? She peered into the darkness, looking for signs of danger. Nothing. Nothing she could see. She closed her hand around her gun. Its presence lessened her apprehension somewhat. Her eyes burned, and she allowed them to drift shut...for just a minute.
    Few sounds permeated the darkness. The muted road noises and the hum of tires on concrete from Interstate 40 resembled the drone of insects, the occasional eighteen-wheeler louder in its insistent thrum.
    Something wet and cold touched her cheek. She slapped it away, as her eyes jerked open and a screech ripped from her throat. She scrambled from the chair, revolver clutched in her hand. With the gun held in front of her, she turned, searching for…for what...what...a wolf? She screamed, “Get away. Shoo.” She cocked the gun, and trained it on the beast. No, it was a dog. The animal started toward her and then stopped, plunked its butt down not far from her, tilted his head, and woofed as if he wanted to play.
    She giggled, and then sobered when the shepherd’s ears perked and he turned toward the east. The sound of running footsteps crunching on gravel drew her attention away from the animal. Startled, she turned and aimed.
    “Drop your weapon, lady, or I’ll shoot.” The voice from the darkness belonged to a man. “The dog won’t hurt you.”
    Susan struggled to keep her voice steady. “You drop...your gun...first.” The hand holding her gun shook so hard she had to steady it with her left.
    The man stepped into the circle of light. “Look, lady, the dog is mine. He won’t hurt you, and neither will I. He heard something and thought you were in trouble. Took off before I could stop him.” He smiled and patted his leg with his free hand. “Come, Hans.” The dog trotted to his side.
    Hans? Wasn’t that the name of the dog at the café this morning? The man—the one who’d served her breakfast?
    His eyes darted around her makeshift campsite. He raised an eyebrow. “Looks like he might be right. You shouldn’t be out here all by yourself. You have car trouble?”
    Heat rose in her face, and Susan prayed he couldn’t see her flush of discomfort in the glow of the lantern. She could imagine how odd her being out here alone appeared. “No.”
    When she didn’t elaborate, he sputtered, “What the hell are you doing out here, then?”
    “I received bad news today, the passing of a dear friend. I was too upset to drive. Not that it’s any of your business.”
    He ignored her rudeness. “Oh, I’m sorry, but hey, you can park your