Sally: Autumn Storms (F&L Story #4)

Sally: Part 39

Part 39

Sally forgot what a nuisance big trailers were to haul up and down mountainous roads. Her poor Dodge truck protested many times, and she made a mental note to have the engine looked at when she got a chance. But she made it. Crossing into Missouri lifted a leaden weight off her heart. In less than half an hour, she'd be with Wilson again, and she smiled into the windshield.

Turning off highway 65 into Ridgedale, she glanced in the rearview mirror. A light kept flickering off and on in the camper. That was odd. She checked the gps directions on her cell phone. Only five more miles. The light can wait.

A loud crash emitted from the camper, and it rocked slightly to the side, making her truck to swerve onto the shoulder. What the hell? She frowned as she pulled off the road into an empty gas station parking lot. If there were rats in there causing all that ruckus...

Please, don't let it be rats. They'd have to be huge to make the camper sway like that. And besides, she'd have to wait until she reached Wilson to get rid of them. Visions of fat, mangy rats scurrying out of the camper, scampering along the trailer hitch in an extremely-long, single-file line and falling into her truck cab through the open back window...

Sally shuddered and climbed over the seat to hastily close and locke the sliding glass panels behind her. She allowed the diesel engine to idle and stared at the camper. The light continued to flicker...like rats chewing on the wiring...

Wilson would take care of it later on. She'd give him lots of incentives. He wouldn't mind at all. Five more miles...she'd greet him with a kiss and a long, fulfilling session of lovemaking, and then she'd ask him to go exterminate the camper. Problem solved. He'd just smile at her...or roll his eyes...or maybe he'd just stare at her like she was being ridiculous. They were just ugly, creepy animals.

Yeah, and they'll poop and piss and chew up everything until they're gone.

She'd better take care of it now. Hesitantly, she emerged from the cab of the truck and approached the side door of the camper. Maybe, she should go back and get her pistol out of the glove compartment...

Then again, she'd only shoot holes in her camper, trying to kill the little rodents. Sally sighed and unlocked the door. Cracking the door open just enough to see inside, she scanned the floor quickly. The light over the kitchen sink continued to blink, as though loosing power. Technically, the light shouldn't be able to come on at all. When not hooked up to a power outlet, the electricity ran off a series of batteries that needed to be charged. Sally couldn't remember if she ever did that. Wilson might have, though.

She cocked an ear to the interior. No scratching, scurrying sounds came out. Maybe the light had a bad connection and it turned itself on when she hit a bump...which could explain the crashing sound – something falling out of a cabinet. Only, the road through here was newly paved. No potholes. No bumps. Nothing but a smooth ride for the last twenty miles.

Sally listened for a long time and studied the camper intensely. She heard no evidence of rats or anything else. Eventually, she shrugged and unscrewed the light bulb with a dish towel. Purged into darkness, she felt her way back to the door. Her hand curled around the handle the exact moment a cold strip of steel pressed against her neck. Sally froze as hot breath irritated her earlobe.

“You sure took your sweet time getting back here.”

She recognized the voice, even though it was low, harsh and gravelly. Her jaw clenched, and she saw red. “Peter.”

“That's right, sweetheart,” he growled, flattening the blade of his knife firmly under her chin. He wrapped his other arm around her, pinning her arms to her side and her back to his chest. “Did you honestly believe I would give up that easily? That I would give you up?”