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Authors: Karli Rush

Let Your Heart Drive (4 page)

BOOK: Let Your Heart Drive
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“Dad?”

“Sinead?”

“Okay, well uhm…I’ll just…” I nip on my lip anxious to change the subject and thankfully Dad knows what to say at the right time.

“Call me at your next stop, love you.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

“Oh, and Sinead, be careful.”

“I am,” I tell him rolling my gum up in the wrapper I saved. My eyes dart inside my bag with the mace, it’s my turn to let out a weighty sigh as I adjust my sunglasses back down and pull out onto the highway.

I finally see a sign, fuel at exit 325. The gas gauge is sitting very close to that infamous E mark. I only have about thirty-five miles left before I get to the Arizona, New Mexico state line. Since I see that not only my supply of fuel is dangerously low, my food and drink supply are also out. I pull onto the exit ramp just around five in the evening. I wonder what side the gas goes in on this thing. I’m guessing the passenger side and pull up to pump five.

Inside the store I see it’s a quick stop slash souvenir shop. I saunter up and down the aisles. I love looking at the trinkets and unique souvenirs, but don’t like them once I get them out of the store, so I just enjoy looking, mostly. My stomach growls reminding me one of the reasons why I stopped in the first place. I grab two bottles of water, I hold the door open for a woman with a newborn in her arms and another child latched onto her leg. She clinks two ICB Root Beers together as she yanks another drink out. I snag a turkey wrap from the cooler that looks pretty good and a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos.

I splurge a little on the finer things in life, gummy bears, energy bars. Oh. My God. They have Pop Rocks! Yes, I am getting these. I’m on a mission now, to break the urban legend that eating Pop Rocks and drinking Coke will make you explode. Oh the fun. I accidently bump a guy as I turn to chunk my armload of stuff on the counter.

“Oomph, sorry,” I mumble jerking the bag of Doritos from my teeth, my arms are so full I had nowhere else for them.

The tall lanky guy quirks a thin brow at me and shrugs a shoulder.

“You’re fine,” he mumbles back.

It takes him five seconds to whip out some cash and pay for a pack of Marlboro Light cigarettes. The clerk, a young guy who looks Native American, greets me, “Hi, how are you doing today?”

I tuck a stray unruly hair behind my ear and ask, “You really want to know?” I stare at him as he blinks twice uncoiling momentarily from some chronic sales clerk manner before nodding his head. He doesn’t look like he’s slept a wink in days. He swallows hard and I watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat. He cracks a slight smile, a tired smile, but it’s a smile nonetheless.

“Yeah…I asked, guess I do,” he laughs shaking his head. He scans the next item and glances up for a moment with a drained expression. “Sorry, it’s been a long week.”

I grin back. “No problem. I’m glad you asked though because I am having a pretty decent day and I haven’t had a chance to share it with anyone. Do you know how much farther it is till I hit the state line?”

“Yeah, it’s about half an hour drive from here.”

“Thanks, I don’t trust my GPS like some do.” If I know my dad well enough then I know he’s tracking it too. I pay for my pile of goodies and he quickly bags it all up. “Oh, before I forget, I need to fill up on pump five.”

The clerk ducks his head around the front window logo and stares hard out the streaky dull window. He gathers a mass of dark hair that dangles in front of him and manages to flip his long sleek hair away from his earth-brown eyes and glares blankly at the pumps. “Um…Which one?”

“Five, it’s that black SUV,” I answer as I lean over the counter to point at it, but I don’t see it. “Hold on, let me look to make sure I got the right pump number.”

“I don’t see any SUV’s at all. Just a mini-van and some rustic, beat-up old pickup. Sure you didn’t pull up to the side of the store first? Lots of people do that.”

My stomach dives into an ocean of knots. “Let me check, I’ll be right back, okay?” I try not to run to the door and as I walk back out into the heat of a dying day my hearts dies right here too. The car is gone! Stolen! Oh. My. God. What in Sam hell am I going to do now?  I spin around the deserted gas station with my mouth gaping like a fish out of water. It was right here, I parked right here.
How could…. When could someone…Why would—I need to call the police
. I speed walk back inside and tell the clerk, who happens to be the only other person here right now. Everyone else that I could have questioned has vanished.

“Someone stole my car!  I can’t believe this! Everything I own is in there, except my cell phone.” I grip my cell almost dropping it twice, I unlock the keys and stare at the clerk in desperation. “I’m calling the cops, what is the name of this place?”

The clerk, whose name tag displays— Jonathan, in black and white, picks up the store phone. “It’ll be quicker if I call this in. My uncle is the Sheriff here, just give me a second.”

He holds the phone close to his ear as he glances outside and then back to me. “Hi Sherry, no, no one is robbing me. Look…I—I know, but listen I have a customer here that just had her car stolen about five minutes ago. Can you send the closest guy you got out? Yeah, she’s right here, let me put her on.”

I step up to the counter and take the phone, I give the details and a description of the SUV. By the time I explain everything and hand the phone back to Jonathan, the police are pulling up. I sure hope my dad doesn’t hear about this before I get the chance to tell him, hopefully after I get the car back.

Tears are on the verge of breaking through my armor of self-control and I am giving it my all to keep them under wraps. The deputy is a short brunette woman, last name Conner. As she goes through the questions that I’d just answered with Sherry, I wonder why they aren’t out looking for my car. “Ma’am, do you own the car?”

“No, it’s a rental.”

“Where are the keys?”

“In the car, that’s how they stole it.”

“So, you left the keys in the car?”

“I guess I did.”

“Have you contacted the rental company?”

“No, I called you first trusting that you would actually get on the radio and put out the word that my car was stolen and maybe, track it down. They can’t be that far away the gas tank was almost empty. Whoever took it can’t go that far, maybe only ten miles before the gas will run out.”

“Ms. Noelle, since the vehicle is a rental, we cannot proceed with anything unless the rental company agrees, it is their car after all, so why don’t you give them a call and then I want to speak with them once you are done, okay? We want to recover your vehicle for you, but certain steps need to be taken first.”

I didn’t think my heart could sink any lower, but the idea of calling Trey to tell him that special car he got me only lasted about a day before I lost it. 

“Okay, just give me a minute here, to get my head straight,” I tell Deputy Conner pacing in front of her. I pull my phone out and as soon as I look at the screen display, I see a text message.

 

Hey Sin, how do you like the new car, enjoying your road trip? – Trey

 

Well that’s just peachy, and here I was secretly hoping he would text me all day, but
not now
. I quickly text back.

 

Are you at work?

 

Yeah. Why? –Trey

 

Can you call me? On your work line, it’s kind of important.

 

Sure, I’m just getting back from my break, give me a sec. –Trey

 

Less than ten seconds later my phone rings. “Hey, Trey?”

“Yeah, is this Ms. Noelle?”

“Sinead, yes it is.”

“What is happening, Sinead, how can I help?” His authoritative voice holds a reserved interest in it.

“The car was stolen…” Holding my breath, I wait for him to say something.

Dead silence.

And then his tone eases me, “Are you okay, where are you?”

Holy mother of God, this was not the reaction I had anticipated, but one I am gratefully thankful for, his first thought was of me, not the car.

“I’m in Arizona, a gas station at exit 325 on Route 66, or interstate 40. The police are here, but they refuse to help me unless you tell them to.”

“What? Put the cop on the phone.”

“Deputy Connor? This is a representative from the rental company, asking to speak with you.” I hand my phone over and chew on my thumbnail like a mad woman. The conversation takes about five minutes before the phone is handed back to me and the Deputy starts chatting it up on her police radio.

“Sin, are you there?”

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m so sorry for losing your car.”

“It’s just a car, Sin, it could have been much worse. The police should be reporting it as a stolen vehicle. The cop said something about not much gas?”

“Yeah, I’m at a gas station and I didn’t fill up before someone took it.”

“How much gas was in the tank?”

“Fumes really, I was actually kind of worried I would run out.”

“Good, maybe it will do just that, but in the meantime hang tight and let me make a couple of calls, okay?”

“Trey …
thanks
.”

“Hey, it’s no problem, it’s what I do.”

I end the call and feel as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, I breathe out and glare at the Arizona sky. Peppered with feathery white clouds and as the sun peeks through warming my face I whisper to myself
what else could possibly go wrong before I reach Oklahoma?

Chapter 4

 

“The future will soon be a thing of the past.”

–George Carlin

 

 

My phone rings
and I pace a few steps away from the circle of police. I clutch my sides and sigh out, “Hi Dad…” Rehashing my dilemma and talking him out of flying to me is hard enough when my phone bleeps with another call. “Dad… yes, I know, but can you hang on for a second?”

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Trey…”

“Hey, what did you find out?”

“Well, I was hoping to get you another car, but it looks like we need to find this one first.”

“Oh yeah, I kind of expected that.”

“Hey, I’m sure that if it was on empty you probably only had about ten miles remaining before it ran out of gas, then the car isn’t that far.”

“One can hope…” I say as another deputy saunters up.

“Ms. Noelle?” the deputy interrupts. He’s built, with a golden-tan and smiling a thousand watt smile from ear to ear and follows up with, “We found your car. It’s about eight miles east of here, just off the interstate. If you would like, I can take you there.” He’s young, mid-twenties with a tribal tattoo peeking out along the cuff of his right arm. From the way he stands, thumbs casually looped through the front of his leather police belt and accented with mirrored Aviators on, he’s jaw dropping gorgeous.

“Um…” I twitch my lips nervously and peek around his broad shoulder, checking to see where the other cops disappeared. Deputy Conner is scribbling on her metal clipboard in front of her sheriff’s car. “All right.” I motion to the phone that I need to wrap up my call. He nods and gives me a sly grin.

“Hey, can you call me back in a minute, okay?” I quickly switch over and pretty much reiterate my words. “Trey, I will call you right back, they found the car.”

“Trey? Who the hell is Trey?”

Oh, crap. “Ah… Dad. Hey, they found the car, can I call you right back? They’re taking me to it now.” This hunk of a cop has me all flustered.
Get a grip
I berate myself. I slip my cell back into my pocket and give him my best smile like he doesn’t faze me one way or the other.

“Do you have anything here? If so, please grab your things and I will pull my car around.”

I feel my face blushing as I tell him, “Yeah, I bought a few things. It’s in the store. I guess I should go get it and, um, meet you at your car…” Well that was brilliant sounding. This man has me stumbling inside and out as I catch myself watching him walk away. I shake my head as he looks back at me with a questioning look, like,
are you going to stand there all day or are you going to grab your stuff?
I’m so busted, but it was so worth it.

I slide into the passenger seat of yet another police car for the second time on this unpredictable excursion. My insides are gnawing at me as I grip the bag full of food. Namely junk food at that, he probably thinks I’m some type of binge eater. An addict for sugar and the only way to ease my guilty pleasures is to stuff my face with Pop Rocks and Coke.

“I’m Officer Shelton or if you would feel more comfortable you can call me Ben…” he reaches over and I shake his large warm hand.

Why is he asking if I would feel more
comfortable
? There’s no way I can feel even slightly
comfortable
with the way everything has gone haywire today. I nonchalantly glance down at my foot I have crossed over the other, it’s bouncing non-stop keeping time to my own jackhammering heart.

He pulls his hand away and shifts the car smoothly into drive. We pull back out onto the highway. “I was cruising west on forty when I heard the radio call for a 10-29, that’s a stolen vehicle.” He explains to me and I nod not saying a word. I glance at his hands as he drives noticing he’s not married or at least not wearing a ring. “As they give out the description I see the vehicle heading east bound, so I spin my car around and go in pursuit. He tries to run, I pull up fast behind him when a whitish-blue stream of smoke comes out of the exhaust and he starts slowing down. You know how those types are, well, you probably don’t, but he immediately bails and of all things, runs out into the desert. Basically, I chased him down without any problems.”

“So you weren’t contacted through the local sheriff’s department?”

He smiles that earth-shattering smile of his. “No, I’m with the Arizona Highway Patrol.”

“Ohh…” I reply. My bubble of hope for him bursts. He’s exactly like one of those ego inflated guys that uses his position to charm the pants off the girls. I’ve grown up around cops and some are self-confident, but humble guys and some sadly are pompous asses. I’m no Blessed Virgin Mary, but I’m not going to succumb to the damsel in distress syndrome either. 

“Well… thanks Officer Shelton, I’m glad the rental car was found.” I bounce my foot again, but this time I’m not twisted like a pretzel obsessed with him. Granted, looks are not everything, however, I’m not a girl to complain when a guy is hot and has the decorum not to treat her like she’s completely stupid. His one hand rests on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh, I can see my reflection in his Aviators’ as he keeps glancing over at me. 

“So… Route 66 huh?”

“Ah uh…” I nip at my lip wishing I had something to listen to other than him.

“Are you meeting some family or a group of friends on this trip of yours?”

I chew harder on my lip as I answer, “Yeah, my boyfriend is in New Mexico. He’s probably going stir crazy right now.” My brain throws a conniption fit as to why am I doing this?
Lying
. Lying to a man with a badge, my dad taught me better than this. It must be the stress I’ve endured for the past few hours, between my sister, my dad, the rental car.

“Your
boyfriend
…” his voice draws me back from my mental nagging and I snap my head in his direction. The blankness written across my face must have told him I wasn’t listening. Clearing his throat, I watch as the tiny corner of his lips curve up and he asks whatever he was fishing for, out of me. “Your boyfriend… was that him on the phone?”

The words hurl out of my mouth without any thought, “Yes, and my dad. He’s an LAPD officer, he’s just a little overprotective at times.”

“Who? Your dad or your boyfriend?”

I groan inside, I’m really digging this hole of mine too deep. “My dad,” I say honestly, but I ramble on about having a boyfriend to keep him at arm’s length. I certainly don’t need one thing to lead to another even if I thought he was incredibly hot and doable. We talk about how long my dad has been on the force and what influenced him to take on the challenge of law enforcement. The conversation flows rather well actually and without any more deceptions or uncomfortableness, until my phone rings. Just as we pull up to the sleek black SUV that I thought I might not ever see again, I check to see who’s calling.

“I’ve got to take this,” I tell him opening the door.

“Boyfriend?” He asks with a brow raising over his concealing shades.

“Yeah.” I step out into the Arizona heat and feel the cop’s eyes on me. I’m still in earshot of him so I answer the only way I know how to in this awkward situation. “Hi Baby, I miss you so much. I can’t wait to get there.”

“Sin, every time I call you it is an adventure.”

“That’s why you love me so much,
play along okay
?” I whisper under my breath trusting Trey will get the hint.

“Who’s playing?” he taunts and I imagine a cunning grin devouring his face. He’s enjoying this.

“And that is why I love you, you’re so bad. You just wait till I get there, you’re going to get it.”

“I like the way this call is going, where do you want to meet,
babe
?”

“Well, I’ve got to sign some papers, get some gas and then get back on the road. Hopefully, it won’t be too long. Okay, baby?”

“Sin, you will definitely have to tell me this story in detail when
whatever
this is, is over.”

“You bet, anything for you.” I may have been laying it on a little thick, but at least the cop has buried himself in writing out his report and I’m no longer under his menacing surveillance. Stepping away from the car more I end the call. I make a direct path for the rental and have relief instantly wash over me. My purse is dumped out onto the floorboard, all the replaceable contents sprinkle the mat, mascara, lipstick, my brush, and my wallet. I lean over and start tossing everything back inside when I feel a warm hand pressing against my back. I practically jump out of my skin and glare over my shoulder at Officer Shelton.

“You may want to cancel your credit cards and…” he begins to state. 

“I already have all my ID’s, Visa, and cash on me,” I interject lifting my driver’s license and cards between us. “I don’t carry these in my purse especially while I’m traveling.” I tuck my cards back inside my wristlet and brush my hair out of my eyes. “So, where do you want me to sign Officer Shelton?”

He has me sign a few papers and as I hand him back his pen he takes off his Aviators. Watching him situate his sunglasses away I discreetly inspect his uniform. Not a speck of dirt on it, pressed, and all the buttons gleam, I swallow timidly as I follow up his pristine shirt and meet his eyes. They’re bold and blue and not what I expected, did he know he was getting under my skin, that I was lying too, is it even possible that he could detect that I was failing miserably at keeping my guard up?

“Ms. Noelle, you have some gas in the car. It’s enough to get you to the next gas station. There is a gas station and a hotel about fifteen miles east of here. If I might suggest, since it has been such a stressful day and it will be getting dark in a few hours, that you might want to start out fresh in the morning.”

“Thanks, and I’m sure you’re right, but I already have a place to stay in Gallup. So, if there isn’t anything else, I’m going to get back on the road. But thank you for all your help today.” Why do I get the feeling he wants to say something, like more intruding personal questions tittering on unfolding, ready to put me through the wringer? But he taps the brim of his hat and quietly strides back to his car.

I settle back into the driver’s seat of my rental and drop my shoulders and whisper, “Weird, weird, weird.”

I let my eyes close and mentally push out all the gut twisting stress pinned up inside. And then I remember my food, all my comfort food is still in his car. Shit! I adjust the rearview mirror and see his patrol car unmoved, it looks like he writing his daily grind down. I let out a growl and hop back out of the rental, once I reach his door I start to tap on the glass but he already sees me. He doesn’t give me a hard time or makes me feel like he’s a wolf in patrolman’s clothing—
even though he most definitely is
. Instead, he politely helps me gather my things and before I know it I’m off to the first Hampton Inn I can find.

 

 

Six hundred and fifty miles away from home and I’m already deviating from all the extensive well-thought out plans my dad has laid out so meticulously before me. Hours and hours we spent tracing our fingertips along the familiar US map, following the bold red marker Dad highlighted along the notorious highway. I wanted this, I wanted to step outside my comfort zone. To do something that would make my heart race, to make me stumble for words, to make me see the world in all its glory. Our finances have never been what one would call stellar and these past few years have been kind of rough, it’s undoubtedly planted an endless seed of debt into our pockets. This trip would be my poor man’s journey. A poor man with a rented Toyota Highlander.

That was part of the deal, travel in something that gave my dad peace of mind. I’m sure right now his mind is not at peace because I’ve had the first rental break down and the second stolen all within forty-eight hours. And since I’m so hip on jumping off the beaten path I decide to drive right on past the Hampton Inn and park at a hotel called El Rancho.

If dad could see how this novel quirky little place looked he’d question my sanity. I read somewhere that this historic hotel has roomed famous movie stars like John Wayne, Kirk Douglas, and even Humphrey Bogart. Back in the day it was a headquarters for movie productions, old timey movies like Ace in the Hole and Sundown.

I peek up to the glowing yellow sign above the entrance, watching as the first flashing neon letter H switches to the letter M—
Hotel—Motel
, “Charm of Yesterday, Convenience of Tomorrow.”

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