Page 57 of The Woman with the Handcuffs

“You too. I hope you’re being good to our girl here.”

“He’s been great,” Caitlin insisted.

“So, you’re here to take the tractor.”

“Yeah. I mean, for right now. I was wondering if it would be okay if I left my car here in its place. It’s totally fine if that’s not all right. We will get a lift and tow it. So now press—”

“Nugget,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over her rambling. “Of course, it’s okay. It makes more sense to leave it here and pick it up on your way back to the city.”

“Thank you,” Caitlin said, exhaling hard, like it had been weighing on her all morning that he might say no.

“Don’t even mention it. Sorry, I have to get this,” he said when the phone rang. “You know where the tractor is.”

With that, we made our way back out, climbed into her crossover, then drove down the long rows of tractor-trailers.

“This is it?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’ll move it out of the way.”

“I can move it.”

“Wait. You can?” Caitlin asked, brows furrowing.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, anyone can. But you need a license to drive it.”

“I have a CDL.”

“What? Why?”

“Seemed like a smart idea when I started this whole scheme. When did you get your CDL?”

“My dad made me. He said I would need it if he ever passed away and I wanted his tractor.”

Hm.

I wondered if that was because he did have something wrong with him physically. Something he didn’t want to share because he had to know how anxious his daughter already was, how much she would spiral if she knew he was sick, that he was getting progressively worse.

I wasn’t going to bring that up to Caitlin again. She was already stressing about every little fucking thing that happened each day. I would keep that concern to myself until I had some proof to go on.

“Okay. I’m gonna level with you here,” Caitlin said, taking off her belt. “I can’t back my car into a spot. So I’d rather pull the tractor out.”

“Got it.”

With that, we did the little car dance, moved our luggage, shuffling half of it into an underbody storage compartment. The rest, we pulled up into the truck with us.

“I guess I should give you a tour,” Caitlin said. “Driver’s seat, passenger’s seat, cab with a bed and mini fridge. And this over our heads is another little bed. That’s where I slept.”

“Your whole life in here,” I said, glancing around.

“I mean, a lot of it, yeah. But we also spent a lot of time checking out local attractions.”

“And school?”

“Online.”

“No friends?”