“But have you seen him close up? Those eyes.” Kathleen finished eating and scrunched up the bag. “What a way to go. And anyway, you’re lucky enough to be traveling with a woman who beaned an intruder with a skillet, so you should feel very safe.”

“I think that experience might have given you a slightly overinflated opinion of your own self-defense skills.”

“This is my trip—it’s up to me who I invite.”

“I’m the driver. I could go on strike.” And then Martha realized she was using all the wrong arguments. “Anyway, there is no room in the car. He tops six foot. Long legs. Not that I’ve been looking—”

“I’ve seen you looking.”

Martha sighed. “There is no way he is fitting in the back.”

“He doesn’t have to. I will fit in the back perfectly and he can sit in the front with you.”

“I’d be trapped with him.”

“Exactly! You never know—the two of you could be a perfect match.”

“That would be a miracle.”

“A good relationship doesn’t require a miracle. It requires the right person at the right time.” Kathleen slid her sunglasses onto her nose. “Onward.”

12

KATHLEEN

ST. LOUIS~DEVIL’S ELBOW~SPRINGFIELD

Kathleen closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.

She hadn’t been exactly honest with Martha when she’d said she was fine. She didn’t feel fine at all. Her insides were all churned up, and it had nothing to do with the pulled pork sandwich. Thoughts and feelings that she’d managed to outrun for so many years had all finally caught up with her. They seeped past all the barriers and buried themselves in her brain where she couldn’t shake them off.

It was that conversation with Martha that had started it all. Why hadn’t she shut it down?

It was Martha, of course. Her warmth and kindness had a way of melting all Kathleen’s usual reserve. Shrimp on ice. No matter how serious the topic, Martha still managed to make Kathleen laugh.

And now she couldn’t stop thinking about Ruth.

Should she have opened those letters?

“Are you all right back there, Kathleen?” Martha glanced at her in the mirror, a dangerous glint visible in her eyes before she covered them with sunglasses. “Not too squashed?”

“Never better.” Her discomfort was caused by something less easy to fix than a lack of legroom in the rear seat.

She knew Martha was frustrated that she’d offered Josh a ride, but she was willing to weather her new friend’s disapproval if it meant coaxing Martha out of the little protective bubble she’d formed around herself. Kathleen recognized fear when she saw it. She didn’t think for one moment that Josh was a serial killer, or a threat of any kind. And the last thing Martha needed for the next month was to be closeted with an eighty-year-old, however much they enjoyed each other’s company. The girl needed youth and excitement.