Ann watched him stroll past several fuel islands and enter the truck stop’s building. She scanned the parking lot, searching for potential help. The hour was late, and she spotted only one person nearby, a bearded truck driver, washing the windshield on his idling rig a dozen yards away.

She waved, and screamed at the top of her lungs. But the sealed cab’s tinted windows rendered her nearly invisible, and her muffled cries went unheard over the idling engine. She reached for the truck’s air horn but couldn’t quite stretch her fingers far enough. The bearded man climbed into his rig and pulled away, oblivious to Ann’s plight.

She searched the truck’s interior for something to use as a weapon. But the cab’s interior, even down to its glove box, was stripped clean except for a map and laptop computer on the front seat. Ann lunged for the computer.

She reached with her free hand and grasped the computer, flipping open its monitor and powering it on. As it booted up, she glanced out the window. Pablo stood at the register, purchasing some items. She’d have very little time to send a plea for help—if the truck stop had Wi-Fi.

She held her breath as the computer screen slowly lit up. After an eternity, a bubble icon asked if she wanted to join the Lexington Diesel & Dine network.

“Yes!” She clicked the icon. A few seconds later, an Internet search page opened.

Her joy was short-lived when she glanced out the window to see Pablo exiting the building. Her pulse raced as she considered what to do. There would be no time to sign on to her e-mail account or relay a message through the NCIS website. A desperate idea popped into her head. She quickly typed in four letters and waited for a response. When a new screen popped up, she scrolled to the bottom and found a query link. Clicking on it, she hurriedly typed a message and looked up. Pablo was just ten feet away.

Her fingers flew over the keypad, stopping to click “Send” as the door latch clicked. She slammed the monitor closed and tossed the computer onto the front seat as Pablo opened the door.

Her heart beat wildly, and she felt her face turn flush, as he climbed into the driver’s seat. He turned and looked at her quizzically as he swung his hands around.

“Ham and cheese or tuna?” He held up a pair of wrapped sandwiches.

“Tuna, please.” She exhaled, and reached for one of the sandwiches.

Pablo pulled back onto the highway, eating as he drove. The break had relaxed him, and he finally turned his head over his shoulder briefly and spoke to Ann. “You are in love with me,” he said, grinning.

“What?”

“Yes, you must be in love with me. Why else do you keep turning up?”