The Nobody Girls (Kendra Dillon Cold Case Thriller Book 3), Rebecca Rane [best book club books of all time txt] 📗

than she felt and keep the denim-clad giant as far away as possible.

“My name’s Minnesota. I am TAT Trained. I’m keeping my distance because I understand I can be frightening. That said, I can crank the crap out of those bolts there if you need help.”

“Tat?”

“Truckers Against Trafficking.”

“Which is?”

“As a professional truckdriver, I’m aware that sometimes legitimate business locations, like this one, are used in human trafficking. I’m here to keep my eye out. And well, when I saw you, all of—what, a buck-fifteen?—wrestling with your tire, I figured I’d just let you know. I’m here. And I’ve got my eye out.”

“Okay, uh, thanks?” Kendra wasn’t one-hundred percent sure about Minnesota. But she did have a tire to change.

“Did you need me to help jack that up?”

“You know, I’m good, but you could, while staying over there, if you don’t mind, tell me more about this TAT.”

“Our mission is to saturate places like this with literature, learn how to spot problems, and report it when we see it.”

Kendra contrasted this with the experience she’d had just a few days ago. The sign on that trucker’s dashboard had read: Grass, Cash, or Ass, No One Rides for Free.

Minnesota produced a card from his wallet with the letters CTAT printed on it.

“And that means?”

“Certified Trucker Against Trafficking. Are you in danger? Can I call the state police on your behalf?”

“I’m not, currently, in danger. And thank you.”

Kendra’s Jeep was jacked up. She got to work on the bolts for her now totally decimated rear tire.

“Run over something?”

“Not exactly. A jerk out there on the highway rear-ended me while we were going about eighty miles an hour.”

“That’ll do it.”

Kendra removed all the bolts and rolled her tire off.

“Can I at least put it in the back of your Jeep for you? It’s dirty, and you’re all dressed up.”

“Minnesota, I think you’re restoring my faith in humanity.”

He laughed. And kept his distance. He clearly knew that approaching a woman who was alone in a parking lot could terrify her.

Kendra secured the spare and started tightening the bolts.

“Who taught you to do that so quickly? You on some pit crew somewhere?”

“My dad. He insisted I know how to change a tire and how to rip out the heart of a bear-sized trucker and show it to him while it was still beating.”

“You’re funny.”

“Thank you, and I think I’m done.”

“Since you just mentioned there’s a psycho out there that tried you run you off the road, do you mind if I hang here and watch as you get back out there? Maybe even escort for a mile or two?”

“On one condition, you tell me who to talk to for a podcast interview?”

“Come again?”

“I host a show called The Cold Trail. Your organization needs to be featured. I’m doing a season on murders that happened a long time ago, but the guy who did it was a trucker. And it turns out you’re not all bad by a long shot.”

“There are over one million TAT-trained truckers. We made nearly three-thousand calls to authorities last year, so no, we’re not all bad.”

Kendra walked up to Minnesota, well within bear swatting distance, and handed him her card.

“I’m Kendra Dillon.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“I’d be honored if you’d share the highway with me for a stretch, and like I said, let me know who I can interview. More people need to know about TAT.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Kendra checked her tire again; it was tightened and ready to go.

She had Minnesota’s information and realized that in all the stories she had done, and the ones to come with Ewald’s interview, that TAT would be a good counterpoint.

And she imagined they’d welcome the good press.

Kendra got in her Jeep, and Minnesota, as promised, followed from a safe distance. Her own personal bear escort. Kendra eased back on the highway. Minnesota was in her rear view the entire trip. When she was close to her exit, she flipped on her blinker.

Minnesota honked his horn. It was loud as heck; she was glad she was ready for that!

She pulled off the highway, and he continued on.

There was no one behind her now.

She drove past her condo. She was headed to her old house. The one she shared with Scott when they were married.

Tension finally left her neck as she pulled into her old driveway. The porch light glowed. She took a breath. It had been a long day, fraught with dangerous people.

She was here to get Swisshelm. It was her weekend. She had a lot of work ahead of her with the Ewald interview and continuing to track down the Hawkins family, but she’d do it with Swisshelm cuddled by her side.

Kendra did not expect to fall into Scott Goodrich’s arms, but that’s exactly what she did.

Chapter 21

“That was, uh, unexpected.”

Scott walked into their formerly shared kitchen and put his arms around Kendra’s waist.

She had started making the coffee. She was fully clothed, now, but she’d literally just turned back a year of life without Scott.

Kendra had woken up early and tried to process what she’d just done.

The night before, Scott had opened the door and offered his ear.

He hadn’t nagged her about safety or complained about her work. He’d listened and poured a glass of wine, and then another. She’d relaxed into what was good about their relationship. Scott hadn’t pushed her to stop the investigation like he might have if they were together. He’d just let her vent. He’d also made her laugh. He’d praised her for her good sense in the face of the maniac driver. He hadn’t blamed her for being out on the road. And well, it had just sort of happened.

“If Stephanie could see us now, she’d be throwing a party.”

“I hear she’s been spotted back at your house. I can’t imagine that scene.”

“Oh, yeah, that…well, I can’t begin to tell you how weird my parents are right now. But if my Dad’s blood sugar is under control, who am I to judge?”

“So, this—how am I supposed to