What She Saw by Rachel Lee Page A

start.
    “Thirty-four. Closer to thirty-five. You?”
    “Twenty-four.” She hoped that didn’t sound too young to him, but she supposed it was impossible to be anything but what she was, a small-town girl with very little experience in anything except caring for an ill mother.
    “You grew up here? Do you have any family in the area?”
    “I’ve spent my whole life here. I thought I mentioned that. My only family was my mother, and she died of cancer just a little over a year ago.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    She looked up from the ham she was slicing into bite-size pieces. “What about you? You live in Seattle? Your family?”
    “I’ve got a sister who works for the State Department. She’s in India right now. Other than that, nobody. And I don’t live in Seattle. I don’t exactly live anywhere right now, except my truck.”
    She studied his face, noticing again how every line of it seemed to appeal to her. It was a strong face, with a square jaw and little sun lines around the eyes. No laugh lines. She wondered if he didn’t laugh or smile much. “How do you stand that?”
    He shrugged. “After years of going where I was told and doing what I was told to do, it feels kind of free. Nothing ties me down.”
    Those words might as well have come in flashing neon, she thought, lowering her gaze to the food. Rolling stone. No wish to be tied down. She knew the price of losing someone you loved all too intimately. Do not go there.
    Disappointment swamped her, but she forced it down and kept her guard up.
    “So Claire spoke to that driver, huh?”
    Her head snapped up and the first words that occurred to her popped out. “You’re very single-minded, aren’t you?”
    One corner of his mouth lifted. “Sometimes to my own detriment. I’ve been called a bulldog.”
    “I can see why.” He said very little about himself, but kept on coming right back to the mystery he wanted to solve. So much for a casual “getting to know you” conversation over breakfast. Probably safer for her, she thought. “I told you what Claire told me. She recognized the guy and asked him about off-loading the crate or whatever they were doing. And I told you what she said he said.”
    “Would she have mentioned you?”
    “Like I told you, she said she didn’t. I’ve never known her to lie. We didn’t talk about it after that night.”
    “Can you remember anything about the truck?”
    She almost put her fork down, feeling as if she was being grilled. She probably was, she thought with a sudden spark of amusement. What did she expect from a former cop who was on a case? Besides, she had agreed to be his cover.
    “I couldn’t see all that clearly. You’ve looked out those windows at night, and the trucks were parked at the far end of the lot. Let me think.” She closed her eyes, trying to summon as vivid a memory as she could.
    “It wasn’t new,” she said after a moment. “It looked a little dirty. I don’t even know if I described it right when I called it a box truck. It was one of those trucks where the cab is separated from the container on back, but it’s all one piece.”
    “I know what you mean.”
    “What else?” she wondered. “It had one of those stubby noses that don’t stick out, kind of like the driver is sitting over the engine. I saw it from the side, but just briefly.” She sighed. “It was white, I think. Maybe. I can’t be one hundred percent certain, because of the lighting in the parking lot, and it was mostly in the dark. I suppose it could have been a very light yellow?” She paused then shook her head. “I get the feeling it was white.”
    “How dirty?”
    “I seem to recall some mud splash. Not unusual around here. I didn’t see a company name on the side. Overall it didn’t look very clean.” She shook her head and resumed eating. “Take it from me, there was nothing to make it stand out. If it had looked new, that’s something I would have noticed. Basically, it was the kind of truck