Chapter 7

Oklahoma City to Los Angeles - approximately 1,330 miles, and the web site estimated that it would take almost 20 hours to get there. He was driving alone, still recovering from his injuries, so if he made 400 miles a day he'd be lucky. He didn't want to waste any time, but he really had no choice. It was the slow way or no way. Sam covered his tracks on the library computer, logged off, and walked out into the blazing heat. It didn't help that the entire trip would be spent going through some of the hottest parts of the country. No sense complaining about it, just hit the road. He bought a cooler that fit on the floorboard on the passenger side of the truck cab, filled it with ice and drinks, and he was ready to go.

He found an oldies station on the radio and blasted it when he felt tired, letting the classics spur him on when he was ready to quit for the day. By the time he reached Santa Rosa, New Mexico, Sam felt as if he'd run the whole way. He found a motel, grabbed a sandwich at a nearby fast food place, and washed it down with a soda from the gas station as he watched the evening news. He tried not to pay attention to the news over the past few months, afraid he'd see his picture on it along with a report on a big manhunt. The station only had things of local interest, and he wasn't in it, so he was happy.

"Police are looking for Theresa Ramirez, 29, of nearby Vlachos. She's wanted in connection with the disappearance of her husband Octavio Ramirez, the city manager." He flipped to another station.

"Now on to the weather."

"Tomorrow will be another scorcher folks, with temperatures in the low 100s..."

The sound of gunfire woke Sam from a deep sleep, and his head came up from the table. His eyes focused on the television that was on, tuned to a black and white Western. Mumbling, he scrambled for the remote, turned it off, and dragged himself out of the chair. Then he dropped onto the bed stomach first and fell asleep. When he awoke again, he felt refreshed and ready to take on the day. After a shower and a change of clothes, he packed up and headed for the office to check out.

"How was your stay, Sir," the woman behind the desk asked.

"Slept good. Almost too good," he replied with a wink. He glanced at the clock on the wall and checked it against his watch. "Crap," he muttered. "Is it really almost 10 a.m.?"

"Yes, Sir!" She handed him his change. "Have a safe trip, and if you're ever in the area again, please consider staying with us."

"Thanks, I will." He gave her a smile and left the office. He approached the truck, unlocked the door, and threw his bag onto the passenger seat.

"Ow!"

In a fraction of a second, Sam had his gun out and pointed at the source of the sound. "Put your hands up where I can see them. Now!"

The duffel bag rolled off onto the cooler as the figure shifted and put her hands up in the air.

"Now, sit up."

It was a woman, a nice looking one at that. But he wasn't about to let a pretty face convince him to put down his guard. Unlike him, it looked like she didn't sleep well at all the night before, if the circles under her eyes were any indication. If she camped out in his truck, he could imagine that had something to do with it.

"Please, don't shoot me. I was just looking for a place to spend the night."

"That's why we're all here at the motel, lady."

"I didn't have money for the motel." She looked down at him and her green eyes sparkled with unshed tears. The wind whipped a lock of her blonde hair into her face, and she blew it out of the way. Her hands were still up in the air.

Sam kept his gun up, but he studied her. In the shade of the cab, he thought he saw a bruise on her cheek. A scar ran alongside her right eye, and her tank top exposed where another bruise flowered on the underside of her upper arm. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Who are you, and why'd you decide my truck was the best place to spend the night?"

"My name is Theresa."

Sam's eyes widened. "Theresa Ramirez, that chick from the news?"

Her eyes widened and she shook her head vigorously. "No! No, that's not me! Really!" She jutted her chin at her arm. "This is why I spent the night in your truck. My husband did this, and he's looking for me." Her eyes spilled, and she dropped her hands to hide the tears. "Please, Mister, I need help! He wants to kill me!"

Sam didn't need complications like this. Getting involved in other peoples' messes would only pose a greater risk for himself and get them tangled in his own situation. He stood by helplessly as she sobbed, her entire body shaking on the seat. He looked around. Good, she hadn't attracted any attention yet. But if he didn't do something, she would. And he'd be standing there with a gun out in the open looking awfully guilty of something. With a grumble, he put the safety back on, stuffed the gun into his waist band, and placed a hand lightly on her knee. He didn't expect her to screech and kick at him as she scooted back toward the driver's side.

"Hey, sister, watch what you're doin'!" He jumped back just out of range of her feet. "If you want my help, you're gonna have to calm down. I won't hurt you."

"I-I'm sorry. It was an instinctive reaction." She sniffled and moved forward to sit on the edge of the seat, her feet dangling down to the running board. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine," Sam replied softly. "Theresa, I don't know what you want me to do. Is there some kind of women's shelter you can go to? I'll take you there..."

"No, I have to get out of here, out of New Mexico."

"Why?"

She glanced around, her gaze flitting about and not lighting on anything until she came back to his face. "Please, I'm scared! My sister lives in LA. If I could just get to her..."

"Okay, okay, settle down." Sam held out a hand as a silent signal to calm herself. "I'm going to LA." He hesitated, and hoped he wasn't making a big mistake. "I'll, uh, I'll get you there, Theresa."

"You will?" Her eyes lit up along with a wide smile that showed she was missing a molar along the right side of her face.

"Yeah, I'll help you get there." He held out his hand. "The name's Jake. Jake Baldwin."

"Theresa Sillman." She took his hand and shook it. "Thank you, Jake."

"You're welcome. Now, just throw my bag back there between the seat and the back of the cab, and maybe we can situate that cooler between us on the seat, and then you'll have plenty of room."

Theresa stowed his bag, and together they figured out how to make the cooler work on the seat. Shifting would be a little difficult, but once he was on the freeway, it didn't matter.

"We'll fill up on gas and restock the cooler before we go," Jake said as he started up the truck. He watched Theresa put on her seat belt, and once she was secured, he drove them to a gas station close to the freeway. "I'll fill 'er up, and you go get some more ice, water, and sodas, okay?" He was taking a chance giving her a twenty, but if she came back with everything he asked for and change, he figured she was trustworthy enough to go the long haul.

"What do you like?"

"Iced tea, Dr. Pepper."

"Alright, I'll be right back." Theresa smiled like a giddy kid and hurried to the shelter of the mini-mart.

By the time Jake finished filling up the tank and going inside to pay, Theresa stood at the counter with her purchases in a plastic bag. He paid cash for the gas and took the change and the bag of ice from her, then led the way back to the truck.

"I can do this. You clean the windshield or something," Theresa said as she carefully dumped the water and remaining ice out onto the concrete island.

"Yes, ma'am." He squeegeed the windshield and kept an eye on her the entire time. He was impressed by how she packed all the plastic bottles in and dumped the ice around them. When she was finished, he hefted the cooler up onto the seat. "Okay, let's get going."

Theresa trotted to the passenger side, her eyes scanning the area around them. She got inside, slammed the door, and put on her seat belt. "Yes, let's get moving. I want to be out of here as soon as possible." Her voice shook. "I hope I never have to see this town again!"

"Can you drive a stick?"

"Yes."

"Good. I might have you drive later if I need a break. That way we don't have to stop overnight anywhere, and I can get you to LA as soon as possible." Jake started up the truck and got them on the street that led to the freeway. He made it a few blocks and the interchange was in sight. A light at an intersection before it turned red, and he stopped. Jake glanced over at Theresa, and he noticed her studying the reflection in the side mirror. "Theresa, what's wrong?"

"It's him. My husband," she whispered.

"Oh, great," Jake muttered. In his side mirror he saw the driver get out of the car stopped behind his truck. Another guy got out on his side, and two more on the passenger side. They all carried automatic guns and rifles. "Oh crap. Hang on, Terri." Jake stepped on the gas and the clutch, and Theresa screeched as they shot through the intersection, barely missing a car with the right of way.

The good old boys scurried back to the car, a tricked up 70's royal blue Nova, and the driver ran the red light to go after them. Somehow, the car made it through safely. The passengers hung out the windows, shooting at the truck, attempting to get him to stop. But Jake knew evasive driving techniques, so he swerved and sped up, and generally made the truck untouchable. It wasn't as easy as driving a car, but he was glad for the fact that the truck was only a few years old. It had the chops to do what he wanted it to do, and in no time he turned the wheel and felt the tires grip the road as the truck sped onto the onramp. The Nova followed, but as both vehicles got on the freeway, a sheriff's deputy came up on the left. The shooters ducked inside the Nova, too late. The deputy saw them and was on his radio as he pulled back. His bar lights went on, and he settled in behind the Nova.

Jake smiled and stayed at the speed limit. The Nova crept closer to his bumper, but the deputy put on his siren, warning the driver to pull over. The car was so close he couldn't see the reactions of the people inside, but then the distance between them lengthened and he saw them shouting at each other and trying to stash their weapons. He chuckled.

Theresa looked behind them, her mouth agape. At first she was speechless. Then she slowly turned to him and asked, "How... how'd you learn to drive like that?" She pulled a lock of her short hair behind her ear and stared at him.

"You don't wanna know," Jake replied with a smirk.

"I thought that we were dead. If they didn't shoot us, I thought we'd crash."

"No, I crashed once last month. I don't need to do that again." His eyes slid sideways and he almost laughed at her reaction.

"What? Are you an insane driver or something?" Her head jerked around, looking for a way to escape, but they were going the speed limit. Jumping out was not an option, not if she wanted to live.

"No, I was driving a really old pickup on a country road, and this steer was in my lane. I tried to evade it, but my truck wasn't equal to my driving skills."

"Oh, I bet the cops loved that explanation," Theresa said, still looking wild eyed at him.

"Actually, they never interviewed me about the accident. Never mind. The point is, you're safe with me behind the wheel." He glanced at her with a warm expression. "Anybody else might have crashed back there. Trust me."

"I have a hard time doing that, considering that you're of the same species as my husband."

"Well, you must have some room for trust. Otherwise you wouldn't have accepted a ride from me to begin with."

Theresa folded her arms across her chest. "You have a point."

Jake laughed. "Relax. If you could talk to my friends, they'd tell you I'm an honorable guy."

"Where are they? LA?"

He sighed and kept his attention on the road ahead. "I'd rather not talk about it."

"Hmm. So, where did you learn how to drive like that? I've only ever seen cops do those kinds of fancy moves."

"In the military. But..."

"Oh, let me guess." Theresa held up a hand and gave him a smile. "You don't wanna talk about it." He nodded and she smirked. "It's going to be a long trip."

"What kind of music do you like?"

"Anything between the 60's and 80's."

"Alrighty, then." Jake punched the volume button and turned on the radio, found a station that had something they both liked, and filled the cabin with music. He was intrigued by Theresa. She was running from a psycho husband and his homies, a life of abuse, and probably an environment where drug deals and usage were daily occurrences. She didn't look like a user, though. No needle tracks or signs of cocaine use. He'd have to keep an eye on her and be about as wary about her as she was him.

As the miles passed beneath the truck tires, Theresa grew more at ease in the cabin. Her body relaxed, her arms uncrossed, and she grabbed a soda from the cooler. "Want anything?"

"Sure. Surprise me." He smiled at her.

She pulled out a Dr. Pepper and twisted off the cap for him.

"Thanks!" He took a good swig and set the bottle in the cup holder. She held onto her water and rubbed it against her forehead. "Are you warm?"

"No. I just have a little headache, that's all." She stared out the window watching the scenery go by, one arm up on the window frame, and her toe tapping to the music. He heard her soft voice singing along with the song.

"You don't have to keep quiet on my account," he said with an amused expression. "Go ahead, belt it out!"

Theresa's eyes scrunched up as she laughed, and for a moment he saw what she may have looked like before things got so messed up in her life. But his staring at her caused her to shut down, and she stopped mumbling the words and turned back to the window. Jake could have kicked himself. But then, he didn't know she would be so self-conscious.

Just barely over the music, he said, "I couldn't hear much, but it sounded like you have a beautiful voice."

She swallowed. "Thanks."

Because he got such a late start and had the distraction of Theresa's husband, Jake didn't make it was far as he would have liked. They were at least seventy miles from Flagstaff when they stopped for dinner. Jake paid for her meal, despite her protests.

"You can pay me back by driving when I get tired. How about that?" He flashed a smile with a dimple, and was pleased when she nodded in agreement. "Great. Go ahead, order what you want but keep it cheap." He chuckled. "Just kidding!"

Yeah, that was real smooth! What is wrong with you? Did you lose your Sam Axe charm along with the rest of your identity when you turned into Jake? Get a grip, and be yourself! He thought of Elsa, and he glanced at his watch. By now, if they'd been together, they would have been out to some fancy restaurant or maybe some little hole in the wall noodle joint. He never knew what Elsa would be in the mood for, and that was one of the things he loved about her. When he was with her, there was never a dull moment. He hoped that she wasn't at home crying over him, or worse yet, that she'd already found someone else. He'd never given that a thought before. Now that he had, he wished he'd never sent that letter. It was probably the smart thing for her to do, to move on, but his heart broke at the idea.

"Jake?"

"Huh?" He looked up from his plate and blinked.

"Are you okay? You look really upset about something." Theresa sat back in the booth, hugging herself, and Jake looked into her eyes. He saw fear in them.

He forced himself to soften his expression. "It's okay, Terri. I was just thinking about someone."

"Someone you love?" She leaned forward, her forearms on the table and her meal forgotten.

Jake mirrored her posture. "Yeah. I love her very much, and I don't know when I'll get to see her again. Maybe never."

"I'm sorry." Theresa bit her bottom lip. "You're a nice guy, you should go back to her. Whatever caused you two to part, can't it be fixed?" She looked at him with hope in her eyes.

"Not yet." He shook his head. "I don't know if it'll ever be resolved."

"I've heard that couples are supposed to talk about disagreements..."

"It wasn't that. It's something else that I can't tell you about." Jake hung his head. "It's not that I don't trust you." He looked up at her. "It would be dangerous. I had to leave her, to keep her safe."

"Wow, that's quite a sacrifice. I've never had a love like that before."

He swallowed hard, keeping the emotions from rising to the surface. "Neither did I, until I met her."

Jake paid the bill and they were on the road again. What he said left Theresa quiet and contemplative. He should have kept his mouth shut. It sounded like he was bragging, not thinking about the kind of life she must have had with Warren, her husband. After the sun went down, he started running out of gas, both figuratively and in reality. He pulled into a gas station and filled up the tank, and then Theresa took the wheel. He belted in and relaxed on his side of the cab until he dozed. She kept the music low. He could almost hear her breathing, and now and then she hummed along or mumbled the words to a song. He surprised himself when he started singing along. The truck swerved a little, causing his eyes to fly open and straighten his body from its slumped position.

"What happened?"

"You! You were singing!" She glanced at him. "You scared me, that's all. I wasn't expecting that."

"Sorry. Was I that bad?"

She giggled. "Actually, it wasn't too terrible. Stick to a song in a lower key and you'll be fine."

"You know about that kind of stuff, huh?"

Theresa shrugged. "I took lessons long ago, before I met Warren. I wanted to be a singer."

"Well, I think you should go for it when you get to LA."

She flashed him a genuine smile that he saw in the glow from the dashboard. "Thanks, I appreciate the vote of confidence. Amanda's always been telling me that I should pursue it." She paused and let out a breath. "No matter how crappy her own life went, she was always encouraging me. I know I disappointed her by marrying Warren. Probably reminded her of her own mistake marrying that Navy guy who just up and left her."

"Navy guy?"

"Yeah, his name was Sam. Sam Axe. I mean, what kind of a name is that? Jeez, I think it was fake. I told her I thought it was, and that if I was right, maybe they weren't really married."

Jake was speechless. Holy crap, what were the odds of running into Amanda's sister? Only to find out she obviously hates my guts for what I did to Amanda! He was glad for the darkness, because no doubt the blood drained from his face when she revealed her identity. He pressed himself into the seat back, put his head against the rest, and swallowed away the sick feeling that overtook him.

"Hey, Jake. You're awfully quiet there."

"Sorry. I was just thinking. Maybe the guy had a good reason for leaving. Maybe he had to work, like go overseas? After all, if he was in the Navy, he probably had to go fight a war or something."

"The least he could have done was say goodbye in person. A note just doesn't cut it."

Jake leaned back in his seat and ran a hand over his face. He had a feeling that his trip to LA wasn't going to be exactly what he hoped it would be.