Swiping at the mascara tracks staining her cheeks, Cheryl hurried behind her. “Yes.”

She should have known. Creeps gravitated to each other, often running in packs like wild dogs. “Do you know when they’ll go back there?”

Cheryl shook her head.

Alice said, “I’ll figure it out.” How, she had no idea. Eventually she’d have to tell Reese. Or better yet, she could call... No. She wouldn’t do that.

Maybe she could trust Rowdy. Reese was the law, and he saw things as black-and-white. But Rowdy understood the fine balance between right and wrong. He would balk at venturing into illegal territory—as Alice herself had just done. For right now, Rowdy’s propensity suited her just fine.

As long as he didn’t tattle to Reese. Honorable men, she knew, had this weird loyalty to one another.

Decisions, decisions.

She unlocked her car with the clicker before they’d even reached it. “Get in.”

Alice circled around to the driver’s side while Cheryl crawled in, her fearful gaze going everywhere, waiting for more hurt to come her way.

Alice started the car and drove straight ahead, then took the first left, and another. No one followed.

They were safe. For now.

Beside her, Cheryl held herself so stiffly that Alice wondered if she planned to leap out at any moment.

“What would you like to do? I can either take you to the police—”

“No.” Cheryl gripped the door handle.

“Or,” Alice said, understanding, “I can rent you a hotel room, or even put you on a bus.”

Cheryl fretted, unsure of her offer. “A b-bus?”

“No strings attached.”

A sob tore from Cheryl’s throat. “Why  would you do this?”

“I want to help,” she said gently. “That’s all. I swear.”

Close to hyperventilating, Cheryl watched her. “I believe you’re not a cop. But h-how can I be sure you’re not working for the competition?”

“What competition?”

“The other dealers? A supplier?” She pressed into the door, cowering. “How do I know you won’t take me somewhere and d-d-do awful things?”

Drugs and dealers. What awful  things? “So this... It’s about drugs?” She hadn’t figured it that way at all. Alice waved a hand. It didn’t matter, not right now. “Whatever’s going on, I just want to get you someplace safe. I swear.”

For the longest time, the only sound was of Cheryl’s erratic breathing. Alice pulled into more traffic, willing to give her time to think, to compose herself.

Suddenly Cheryl ripped at the bandage on her arm. Her sobs escalated as she exposed an odd tattoo, a design of overlapping numbers and lines. “He marked me so they’d know.” She used the wadded up bandage to scrub at her still raw skin. “That’s why I had to get the tattoo. Others will see it and kn-know I’m carrying the drugs. They’ll know who I’m with, that deals are made—”

“Shhh.” Keeping her eyes on the road, Alice reached out to touch her arm lightly. “Please, don’t hurt yourself, Cheryl. Please.”

Defeated, Cheryl curled in on herself. “I want to go home.”

Relief took the strain out of Alice’s backbone. “You have family?”

She nodded hard, eyes squeezed shut, lips trembling. “I ran off from college. Everyone told me he was no good, that he’d hurt me. But I didn’t believe them, and I ran off with him and n-now my parents are probably—”

“Worried sick,” Alice finished for her. “That was him I met? Hickson?”

“No.” She shuddered in revulsion. “He’s just the guy who gets us tattooed.”

Us. More than one girl? “Do your parents live far away?”

“A few hours.” Cheryl scrubbed at her eyes, wiped her nose.

Driving one-handed while she reached into her purse, Alice produced a pack of tissues. “Use the visor and try to clean yourself up.”

Cheryl sobbed a rough laugh. “Do you have everything in that purse?”

Everything she might need. “I like to be prepared.”

Alice knew what to do now, and that shored up her courage. She drove toward the bus terminal. “I’ll get you on a bus, with enough money for a cab from the station, and you’ll be home before nightfall. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

Thank God, this time she could make a difference.

Maybe a big difference. Alice glanced at her. “While I drive, tell me everything, please. Especially about that tattoo.”

* * *

FURIOUS, ROWDY HUNG back in the churchyard, watching through binoculars as Alice went into the bus station with a bedraggled woman who looked to be young: nineteen, maybe twenty. Slim, pretty, but now with swollen red eyes and blotchy cheeks.

What was Alice up to?

After falling behind, it had taken him a few moments to locate her again. To expedite his search, he’d pulled into a quaint stone church sitting atop a rise that overlooked the rest of the area. Using binoculars, he’d spotted her car, then located her at the motel just as she’d hauled ass out of the place with the other woman. Thinking she ran from someone, Rowdy started to rush to her rescue—but his alarm had faded when Alice paused long enough to sabotage the truck tire.

No one in hot pursuit.

Settling back, he’d watched her high-step across an overgrown lot that probably hid snakes, rats and too many insects to count. He tracked her as she drove through the neighborhood, circled around and headed toward the highway. He thought she’d finally be heading home, plus one passenger, until she pulled into the bus station.