Final Masquerade by Cindy Davis Page A

here."
    "Some are like that. I spend so much time on the road I needed something more."
    "You have electricity?"
    "Uh-huh. A really long extension cord from my apartment.” Chris reached over the visor and took out a notebook. “Logbook,” he announced, seeing her interest. “It's to write down every place I stop and how long I spend there. In case you're interested, we're going east on Route 40. Got to make a delivery in Fort Smith first, then another in Memphis and Chattanooga where I'll pick up another load. From there, it's north to West Virginia. You're welcome to stay on as far as you'd like. All I ask is that you make the bed, brew the coffee and throw together some snacks or something when we can't be stopping. Is that agreeable?"
    "Will there be any cooking involved?"
    He threw back his head and repeated the same laugh she'd enjoyed in the restaurant.
    "Is that all you expect from me?” Paige wasn't sure she really wanted an answer.
    "Don't I have a trustworthy face?” He lifted his eyes from the logbook and stared soberly into hers. “Isn't this face the reason you picked me over the others?"
    She made a pretense of examining the front of her shirt. “Hey, a girl's got to protect herself as best she can."
    "Then you shouldn't be hitching rides with strange men."
    "You don't look that strange."
    Chris flipped the book shut and placed it back over the visor, then reached for her bag. She maintained an almost imperceptible grip on it for a second, but finally relinquished it to him.
    "Give me your handbag, too. I'll put them in back so you'll have room for your feet.” He moved her things to a cabinet in the bunk area, settled into his seat, and fastened his seatbelt. “Buckle up, we're ready for blast off.” As he hollered out the countdown from TEN, he adjusted some dials and turned down the volume on the radio. When he reached ONE, he shifted the truck into gear and pulled out of the lot.
    "Comfy?” he asked.
    "Yes."
    "How long have you been on the run?"
    She sighed. “Three days, but it seems like forever."
    The motion of the truck was unlike any vehicle she'd been in before. The perpetual drone of the engine vibrated the cab beneath her feet, much like her foot-massaging machine at home. She leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. For quite some time, she peered between her lashes at the man who seemed engrossed by the truck's dials and the long, black stretch of highway.
    She woke in darkness and reached up to run a hand through her hair, suddenly remembering the wig and the circumstances. The only light drifted in from a nearby streetlight. Paige focused bleary eyes on Chris, who was just tapping shut the lid of his cell phone.
    "What time is it?"
    "One a.m. You slept eight hours."
    "You're kidding."
    "When was the last time you had any sleep?"
    "Really slept?” She hid a yawn behind the back of a hand. “About a month ago."
    "I thought you said you'd been on the run only a few days."
    "I have. Who were you talking to?"
    "My dispatcher."
    "Why would you call him at one o'clock in the morning?"
    Chris hesitated. “I check in every time I stop. Lets him know where I am."
    "I thought you were self-employed."
    "You sure are suspicious."
    She squinted out into the darkness surrounding the truck. “Where are we?"
    "Truck stop in Jamestown.” He answered the next question before she could ask. “Just outside Gallup, New Mexico."
    "That still doesn't tell me much."
    "Come on, let's stretch our legs and get something to eat. Want your handbag?"
    Chris took a drag of his cigarette, holding it in that unusual way between the second and third fingers. “How long have you been having nightmares?"
    "What? Oh, about a month.” She forced her eyes from his hand.
    "What started them?"
    Paige put her mug down with a smack. “Stop, will you? I'm not telling you. If you know too much, it could be dangerous."
    "You need to trust somebody."
    "I've gotten along fine all this time without it.” She