Page 50 of Hard Rain
Whip frowned.
“The truck at the motel?”
Axel eyed him.
“The fact you know which story I’m talking about is exactly the problem. Ya nut.”
Whip looked pleased with himself.
“I was right.”
The fire popped between them. Outside, rain rattled steadily against the roof. The storm sounded farther away now.
“We spent half a day looking for that guy,” Axel said. “Six blue pickups in the parking lot. Boone was ready to strangle somebody.”
“Probably you.”
“That’s fair.”
Whip smirked into the mug.
“Everybody thought the suspect left in one of the trucks,” Axel continued. “Nobody knew which one.”
“Your point?”
“My point is, we’re all standing around arguing, and you suddenly look at one truck and go, ‘That one.’”
Whip took another drink and smiled.
“It was that one.”
“Based on absolutely nothing.”
“Broken passenger mirror.”
“There it is.” Axel tossed back another handful of mix. “That. That’s the part where normal people leave the conversation.”
Whip looked satisfied. “The mirror was broken.”
Like that explained everything.
“We’d been there twelve hours.”
“So?”
“Nobody noticed the mirror, but you did.”
Whip shrugged.
“Room fourteen. Tuesday morning.”
Axel stared.
Even now the answer arrived too fast.
He wasn’t sure it would ever stop surprising him.
“See?” He jabbed a finger toward Whip. “That’s not normal.”
