Eleven Hours by Paullina Simons Read Free Book Online

shouting, “What are you doing?”
    She gasped, stunned by his outburst, and said, “I’m hot. I was going to roll the window down.”
    â€œNo,” he said firmly. “No windows. Don’t want you screaming again, do I?”
    â€œWho’s going to hear me here on the highway?”
    â€œI said no.”
    â€œI won’t scream,” she said. “I’m just real hot. I need air.”
    â€œYeah, well, you should have thought of that in the mall. Didn’t need air then, did you?” he said coldly.
    What was he talking about? And what’s happening to him? Why did he sound so angry?
    â€œI’m real hot,” Didi repeated.
    He swirled one of the central vents on her. “Here,” he said. “Here’s some air.”
    Didi sat back against the brown vinyl seat and closed her eyes. She wiped her sweating head, opened her eyes, and said, “Couldn’t we stop for a drink? I’m thirsty.” She was hoping to bring some of his earlier politeness back.
    â€œNo, we can’t stop for a drink,” he snapped. “What do you think this is? A trip to Disney World? Sit and be quiet. Please,” he added, composing himself.
    Didi had no choice about sitting, but she did shut up. He’s moody, she thought. Is this ma’am and please thing just a facade? God help me if it is.
    After a few moments, he said, “Look, I’m sorry, but we have to make tracks. I have to concentrate, okay? Don’t want to go too fast, don’t want to go too slow. We’ll stop soon.”
    Oddly comforted by his courteous demeanor, Didi nodded and then said, “Don’t you want to call my husband?”
    â€œNo!” His nasal voice was shrill. “Why would I want to call him?”
    Beads of sweat ran down her cheeks. “To ask him for money?”
    Shaking his head, he leaned toward her and touched her gently on the arm. “You’re so naive. That’s what I like about you.”
    Didi wiped her face and then licked her fingers. Ten minutes later, the salt in the sweat made her crazy for a drink, but she didn’t talk.
    What was her Rich doing? He must have realized by now she wasn’t coming to the Laredo Grill. Where was he? Was he trying to call? Then she remembered her cell phone. She’d left it on standby at Warner Bros. after she called him. Could he have called already and she hadn’t heard? Or was that the phone ringing?

3:25 P.M.
    Rich Wood didn’t find his wife at the Valley View Mall. He didn’t find her at the Galleria Mall, either, though the parking there was more complicated.
    Rich knew his wife liked to use valet parking at the Westin Hotel adjacent to the Galleria; Didi loved to just get out of the car and pay four bucks and not worry about parking space. So he drove over to the Westin and asked about Didi’s van at the valet window. The valet, whose name tag read José, asked Rich to describe the van and Didi. Rich did. “Oh, jes, Didi, no, she no park here today. She have baby soon?”
    José said that the last time he’d seen Didi was four days ago, and he always tried to park her car close for her because when she came out of the mall with the bags, “she no like to wait so much.”
    The fact that the valet knew his wife by name because she visited the Galleria so often amused Rich. Oh, you Didi. You lead a secret life away from me. While I work, you’re getting to know José. You never told me you were on a first-name basis with the Westin valet.
    But he didn’t have a wife to say that to just then. He didn’t even have her van.
    Before he left, he dialed her cell phone number again from the pay phone inside the Westin.

3:30 P.M.
    The light trill of the cellular phone was unmistakable this time. Didi didn’t move. Glancing over at the man from the corner of her eye, Didi saw he was hypnotized by the road and the radio’s loud music. He