Not something she was looking forward to.
Briar had trudged maybe three-quarters of a mile more when a rumble alerted her of another approaching vehicle. Headlights appeared out of the misty dusk and then she saw the hulking form of a tow truck heading in her direction. It was driving slowly as if keeping an eye out for her. The SUV driver must have called it for her, which was nice of him. She shrugged. Guess he wasn’t a murderer after all, but it wasn’t the first time she’d prejudged someone, probably wouldn’t be the last.
As she waited, the truck slowed to a stop and the driver rolled down his window.
“I hear you have a flat?”
He was younger than Briar, maybe in his late twenties, with shoulder-length hair and a smile that reached his eyes.
She nodded and pointed back over her shoulder. “It’s back there a mile or so.”
“Hop in and I’ll give you a ride.”
Briar only hesitated for a second, once again trusting her instincts. The SUV driver had sparked a warning that he was dangerous in some way she could not quantify. This guy wasn’t worrisome. And if she was wrong, her Glock was easily accessible.
“Thanks,” she said before crossing to the other side of the road. The passenger door popped open and she climbed inside the warm cab.
“I’m Jordan,” the driver offered as he shifted the big truck into gear. “We’ll go check out the situation and have you back on the road in no time.”
“Briar. And thank you again.” She buckled her seat belt before stripping off her gloves and rubbing her cold fingers.
“Really,” Jordan said as he pulled back out onto the highway, “you should thank my brother for calling me.”
Briar eyed Jordan—the shaggy dark blond hair that hung to his shoulders looked like it needed a trim, and he hadn’t shaved recently—but she still wasn’t getting any kind of serial killer vibes off him. To be fair, the guy in the SUV hadn’t made her nervous, more wary… alert, as if there was something she was missing.
“Your brother, the guy in the black SUV?”
“Yeah.” Jordan laughed. “I keep telling him it makes him look like a creep, but he doesn’t believe me.”
They’d arrived at Briar’s rental. The flat looked even worse now, the car listing to one side like a sinking boat. Jordan made some indecipherable noise in the back of his throat as he drove past it, then made a U-turn and pulled over in front of the car.
“I’ll be sure to let him know if I see him again,” Briar quipped.
Jordan laughed again. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll see him again. Wait here. I’ll go check it out first.”
Briar wasn’t going to argue; cold didn’t begin to describe how she was feeling. Her entire body was one constant shiver and her fingers and toes were numb. In the twenty years since she’d left Rexville, she’d managed to forget the damp chill that pervaded this type of northwest weather.
She kept an eye on the rearview mirror, watching as Jordan approached her car and crouched down to examine the damaged wheel. Not a minute passed before he was shaking his head, then he stood up to jog back to her side of the tow truck.
A sinking feeling took over her stomach as Briar reluctantly rolled down her window and asked, “What’s wrong?” A gust of wind came up and blew rain inside the cab, stealing away her saved-up warmth.
“The wheel itself is damaged. Maybe you didn’t realize it was flat and drove on it for a while? Doesn’t matter, it’s not drivable. I’ll hook the car up and tow it into town where I can take a better look at it.” Briar must have made a face because he grimaced back at her. “I’ll be honest, I’m not sure this is an overnight fix. I hope you have rental insurance.”
She did, but that wasn’t the problem.
“It’s not how long the repair will take. I’m staying in Rexville for a while. I just don’t want to be without a car.”
As he maneuvered the tow truck onto the road and toward town, Jordan said, “Royce will fix you up with something while you’re here.”
The universe shifted and Briar narrowed her gaze at Jordan as something settled into place, a piece she’d been missing before when the man driving the SUV had stopped to talk to her.
Rexville was a small town, and there probably was only one Royce around. Twenty years had passed since she’d last laid eyes on the man who was part of her detested high school years. Then there was that embarrassing crush she’d refused to admit she’d had on the sexy, confident senior who was way out of her league. And he was the one who’d christened her with the nickname Thorny.
She asked, “Royce is…?”
“My brother.”
“Ah.”
It would be a cold day in hell before she accepted any help from Royce King. Any more help, that is, because he’d obviously sent Jordan out to pick her up.
The rest of the short drive was quiet. They passed the empty fruit stand, now more of a fruit shop, and the odd Scandinavian-themed antique store (she still had no idea how that place survived) before crossing the bridge that led into town. The river was moving fast and dark, with debris swirling and catching on the pilings below them.
After pulling into the auto shop lot, Jordan opened his door and directed his gaze across Main Street, toward a hand-lettered sign that said “Sheriff’s Office” in an old-fashioned cursive. Quaint. “Yep, Royce just got himself the sheriff’s job, and from the bitching I heard last night, it’s the last thing he wants to do.”
Stunned, Briar followed Jordan’s gaze. It must have been Royce she’d talked to on the phone yesterday. She stifled a groan; she was, as usual, going to have to do all the heavy lifting if she wanted to find out what happened to Tor.
“I’ll be right back.” Jordan slid out of the truck cab and headed toward the office of the auto shop. Briar waited in the truck, her attention focused on the low-slung building across the street and the light in one window. It wasn’t going to come to her. Opening the tow truck door, she jumped to the ground.