Looking back now, maybe she should have been able to smell the bullshit among the jalapeños and pico de gallo in that Mexican restaurant. But Tony had been her rock, the one person she could always count on. He was her dad, and he’d never once given her any reason to believe she couldn’t trust him. Until now.

Finally, the tears came.

Like a field that hadn’t seen rain for years, Jessica hadn’t realized just how much she needed the release until her cheeks were sodden and her body spent from the wracking sobs.

She cried for the man she thought Tony was and the man he might really have been.

And she cried for herself because she felt like she had lost him all over again.

Jessica must have fallen asleep lying there on the truck bed because it was full dark when she opened her eyes. The lilac sky replaced by inky black. The moon was a tiny cold jewel far in the distance, and there were no stars. The red and blue of the neon sign washed over her in calming, rhythmic waves.

Jessica sat up and rubbed eyes that were puffy and sticky with tears and sleep and globs of mascara. She lowered herself onto the tailgate and dropped to the ground. After securing the tailgate back into place, she fished in her bag for the key fob and made her way across the parking lot to her room in the Blue Moon Inn.

Once inside, Jessica flipped the light switch and fastened the security chain in place. The room smelled strongly of floral detergent from the fresh bedsheets. She dropped her bag on the neatly made-up bed. Her bones felt like they were a hundred years old, and she dragged herself wearily to the bathroom.

The image staring back at her from the vanity mirror above the sink was not a pretty one. Her eyes were bloodshot, and the lids were red and swollen as though she’d been punched. Sooty mascara streaks tracked the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. Her nostrils were clogged with snot. She cleaned up and swapped her clothes for an oversized T-shirt that would be cool enough to sleep in.

As she left the bathroom, Jessica saw a shadow pass across the main room’s window.

It was a fleeting movement, no more than a split second, but she knew what she had seen. A darker shade of black standing out against the starless night.

Jessica dropped to her knees and crawled over to the bed and grabbed the Glock from the bag. She checked there was a full magazine in the gun. There was. She scrambled toward the door, keeping herself out of sight of the window; reached up; and killed the light. Slowly and silently, she rose and pressed her face against the door. She screwed one eye shut and peered through the peephole with the other.