Sundown on Top of the World: A Hunter Rayne Highway Mystery Read Online Free PDF

– – – FOUR
     
    Hunter was just pulling his rig into the Petro Canada station south of Kamloops when his cell phone rang. He frowned as he picked it up and flipped it open. Not many people used this number. Just El and his two daughters, and because of them, his ex-wife. “Hello,” he said, wondering which one it was, and chiding himself for always expecting bad news.
    “Hey, man. Where ya at?”
    Hunter shook his head. He’d forgotten that Sorry had this number, too. “On my way to Alaska. Where are you?”
    “Alaska? What a fuckin’ great idea. That’s where I’m heading, too.”
    “You’re joking, right?”
    “Where are you now, man?”
    Hunter paused. Would Sorry want to meet up with him or what? If he did, would that be such a bad thing? “Kamloops.”
    “Perfect. I’m just outside of Savona, came up the Canyon. Wait for me, okay?”
    “I’ll be in the restaurant at the Petro Canada station–” Hunter was about to say he’d probably be finished dinner by the time Sorry got there, but Sorry cut him off.
    “Another fuckin’ great idea. Order me a steak and fries, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
    He wasn’t kidding. He must have opened up the throttle on his Harley, because he slid into the booth seat opposite Hunter exactly twenty minutes later, almost knocking over Hunter’s water glass with his German army helmet. Hunter had managed to snag a booth where he could just manage to keep an eye on The Blue Knight, as El Watson sometimes called his Freightliner, which he had fueled up and parked in the blistering sun. Although the waitress had breezed by with water and coffee, she had not been back to take his order.
    “Put that beanie on the bench,” said Hunter.
    “What’s the matter? Is it being seen with a biker or being seen with a Nazi helmet that’s got your shorts in a knot?”
    Hunter glowered and Sorry moved the helmet.
    “It’s a fake, if that makes you feel any better. Some asshole lifted my old one.”
    “What’s this about you going to Alaska?” Hunter asked.
    “I could ask you the same thing. Why’s Big Mother Trucker sending you so far north?”
    “Why not?”
    Sorry shrugged, batting a salt shaker from hand to hand along the tabletop like a hockey puck. “Can I go with you?”
    “I don’t need another driver. I’m doing just fine with single hours.”
    “Yeah, but for company. Or just in case you need help or something.” Sorry kept his eyes on the salt shaker, but Hunter could read tension in the way the biker’s lips worked under his blond moustache.
    “Why? What’s up with you? You lose another job?”
    Sorry’s broad chest rose and fell with a massive sigh. “Yeah, but it’s worse than that. Mo kind of kicked me out.”
    Hunter raised his eyebrows and waited for Sorry to elaborate.
    The biker swiped hand across his mouth a few times, then straightened his moustache with the tip of an index finger, as if he were debating how much to say. “I lost the job for being an insolent jerk, as usual, and Mo was really pissed at me. This thing with Mo, it’s been building for quite a while. Remember I took her and the kids down to see my folks in Yreka at Easter?”
    Hunter nodded. He’d been pleased to hear about it, knowing that Sorry and his dad had barely spoken to each other for over a decade until Sorry took an hours-of-service break in Yreka with Hunter’s truck back in February and the two started talking again.
    “Things got a little tense again between me and my old man, and the only thing that seemed to keep us comfortable with each other was if we downed a few beers together.” Sorry shrugged, as if to say, ‘what choice did I have?’
    “You’ve been drinking again?”
    “Yeah. Beer. Only beer. But that got me doing more weed, too. I kind of got back in the habit and Mo’s been warning me for weeks that I had to get my shit together or else.” Sorry’s mouth and eyes got hard. He slammed the salt shaker down on the table. “Never