She stared at the phone.
Mac drove the U-Haul truck while Clarisse quietly sat in the passenger seat and stared out the window. Familiar sights passed by, and all she could do was concentrate on what she didn’t see. She obsessively glanced in the side mirror at traffic behind them.
“It’s okay, sweetie. We’re not being followed.” Surprised, she looked at him. “I’m not a mind reader, but it doesn’t take one to see how upset you are.”
She nodded.
They called Raquel again when they reached the storage unit. It wouldn’t take long for both of them to empty the unit. Only two pieces of furniture, the rest of it boxes, along with garbage bags full of her clothes. She hadn’t bothered trying to keep them neat, opting for fast and easy.
Mac took the padlock key from her and opened the door, studied the load. “You weren’t kidding that there’s not a lot.”
“I didn’t have time to screw around. I knew I had to be out before he came after me. There’s a few things I wish I could have taken, but it’s not worth my life.”
“Smart girl.” They worked fast. Less than thirty minutes later, he clipped the padlock to the truck’s back door before he pocketed the key. “Where are we meeting your friend?”
She gave him directions. He circled the block twice while Clarisse nervously looked for any sign of Bryan. She didn’t think Raquel was there at first until her phone rang.
“Is that you in the U-Haul?”
“Where are you?”
“I took Tonya’s car. I wandered around for a while before I got here. He couldn’t have followed me. I left the baby with her and my car at her house. She keeps this in the garage, so I wore a different shirt and a hat.” The driver side window rolled down on a blue Honda Pilot parked in the shade in a spot far from the discount store. A hand emerged, waving at them.
Clarisse squealed. She grabbed Mac’s arm and pointed. “There!”
Mac pulled the truck in next to the Honda. Clarisse jumped out and Raquel gave her a huge hug. He stood a few feet away, constantly scanning the area, as the women embraced.
“This is Mac?” Raquel asked with a grin.
“Yeah. My hero. One of them.”
Clarisse noticed Mac actually blushed. He stuck out his hand and they shook. “Nice to meet you.”
“Ready to get the peewee pup back?”
“Am I!” Clarisse followed her around to the back of the SUV.
Still on edge, Mac kept close watch for anything suspicious. Sully had drilled into his brain what to look for, patterns of behavior indicating that they were being observed. It was with some surprise when he noticed the tiny ball of fur Clarisse cuddled. Clarisse was crying.
“Where’s the dog?” he asked, confused, sure that must be one of its chew toys.
Raquel laughed as she lifted a wire crate out of the back of the Honda and handed it to him. “That is the dog.” It couldn’t weigh more than three pounds.
“No, seriously. That’s not a dog. That’s a dog’s hors d’oeuvre.”
Clarisse laughed even as she sniffled. The ball of fuzz eagerly licked her face. “Bart’s a miniature Yorkie. I told you he was small.”
“I thought you meant cocker spaniel small. That’s not small, that’s a cotton ball.”
He loaded the crate and a box of dog supplies way too large considering the size of the dog into the back of the truck.
“I hate to rush you guys,” he said, “but we need to move.”
Clarisse hugged Raquel again. “I’ll give you more info when I can. Use that phone number. It’s a disposable phone. I’ll let you know if I change it.”
Raquel gave her a handful of mail. “Your bank stuff’s in there too.
It all came to the PO box.”
Once inside the truck and on their way again, Mac looked at Clarisse. She wore a bright, happy smile, perhaps the first genuine smile he’d seen from her since they’d met. The little dog seemed totally entranced by her, his mini tail wagging. He looked like a real life teddy bear.
No way would Sully ever object to her keeping him. He’d been worried about that, knowing Sully wasn’t much of a dog person because of allergies, but Bart was barely a dog.
Bart settled in her lap and stared at Mac at a stop light. Mac reached over but Clarisse shook her head. “He bites. He hates guys.”
Mac hesitated. “Bites?”
“I think Bryan did something to him when he was a puppy, even though he never admitted it. He despises all men. I have to take him to a female vet.”
“He’s not growling.”
“He won’t. He just bites.”
Then, as if to make a liar out of her, Bart jumped from her lap and bounded out of her arms and across the seat. Mac prepared to be bitten, which would hurt a hell of a lot less than pretty much everything Sully did to him considering the size of the dog. But the ball of fuzz instead crawled into his lap.
A horn honking got his attention. The light had turned green.
Clarisse looked stunned. “He…he’s never done that before!”
Mac tried to drive without mashing the little critter. “Okay, can we figure this out in a few minutes? Take him, please, before he gets hurt.”
She leaned over and grabbed Bart, who immediately wiggled and whined and tried to get back to Mac.
“I don’t believe it!”
Mac smiled. “Don’t they say dogs are good judges of character?”
Back at the hotel, Mac unloaded the things she’d need for Bart while she unlocked the room. She had to take her shower and nervously set Bart on the floor.
He made a beeline for Mac. He sat at Mac’s feet and looked at him, his tail wagging.
He scooped the dog up and scratched him on the head. Bart promptly rewarded him with a lick on the hand. “Okay, see? He’s not going to turn into psycho piranha dog. Go grab your shower. It’s after nine.”
Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom to find Mac stretched out on his bed and watching TV, with Bart curled up on his chest.
“I still don’t believe it.”
“Save the disbelief, sweetie. We need to get going. Come take him so I can grab my shower.”
She walked over and picked the dog up. “Why didn’t you wait to take one?”
He started to speak, hesitated, then looked at her. “How many details you want? I had a little business I had to take care of, so to speak.”
She blushed. “Sorry. Is that part of the punishment Sully mentioned?”
He grinned. “For you, worth every stroke. He gave me a choice.
Everything has a price, you know.”
“Couldn’t you have done it anyway and not told him?” She wouldn’t have minded helping him.
Mac slowly shook his head. “Never. I won’t do that. Ever. He trusts me, I trust him.” He reached out and stroked her cheek. “That’s something you’ll have to decide if you can live with.”
“Even when you know you’ll get punished?”
“Ah, but don’t forget, he rewarded me in a way too, by allowing me the choice. If I’d jerked off without permission, I’d feel guilty. I won’t do that. I’ll take the momentary sting of the cane over feeling guilty until I confess. It’s not worth Sully not trusting me.”
Maid service had already cleaned their room. When Mac emerged from the bathroom, Clarisse had Bart’s crate sitting on her bed, the dog inside, and Food Network on the TV.
“What’s that for?” he asked, pointing at the TV.
“He likes it. It’s his favorite channel. He thinks Bobby Flay’s the shit. He won’t bark while we’re gone.”
Mac shook his head in disbelief but got them moving out the door.
Mac had put on a suit, and damned if he didn’t look gooood in the obviously expensive and custom-tailored outfit. He could easily pass for an attorney. Sully hadn’t spared any expenses there. Forget a tall drink of water, he looked like a lush tropical oasis in the middle of a bone-dry desert. He drove them in the rental car, following her directions, to the police station in Maxwell.