That was his chance.
Lucien dusted his hands against each other, checked his reflection on one of the truck windows and tentatively approached her car.
At six-foot-one, he bent over just enough for the woman to be able to see his face.
‘Excuse me, ma’am.’
Lucien was a master impersonator. At the drop of a hat he could put on any voice, any accent, any intonation he saw fit. As he spoke, his voice sounded velvety and deep, possessing an almost hypnotic effect. His accent carried an impeccable Tennessee drawl.
The woman kept her eyes closed and her hands and head against her steering wheel. Lucien noticed the empty space on her wedding finger. A light dented and discolored skin band marked exactly where her ring used to sit.
The woman didn’t reply.
‘Ma’am?’ Lucien called again, this time using his right index knuckle to knock on her window.
The knock, even though gentle, startled the woman. Her shoulders bounced up, her breath caught in her throat and her body jerked back awkwardly. Her head twisted left in a fright and her teary blue eyes locked with Lucien’s dark brown ones.
‘Is everything all right, ma’am?’ he asked. The concern in his voice was mimicked by the look in his eyes.
‘What?’ the now confused woman asked without rolling down her window. She seemed annoyed at the stranger disturbing her.
‘I’m very sorry,’ Lucien said in a charming but apologetic tone. ‘I don’t mean to pry, but I saw you with your head against the steering wheel and now I can see that you’ve been crying. I was just wondering if everything is all right. Are you feeling OK? Do you need a drink of water or something?’
In silence and for the next several seconds, the woman studied the stranger standing at her car window. There was no doubt that he was an attractive man – tall and muscular with high cheekbones, full lips and a strong, squared jaw. His eyes seemed kind, possessing a penetrating quality that she immediately associated with knowledge and experience. His dark brown hair was long enough to cover his ears and his beard was thick, but well kept.
The woman’s eyes left Lucien’s face and refocused on his clothes. He wore a dark blue, military-style uniform. There was some sort of large emblem sewed onto the right sleeve shoulder, but she couldn’t quite make out what it said. Just above his shirt pocket there was another sewed-on patch. This one said, ‘M. Vargas’. A thick, black leather belt rounded his waist.
‘Are you a cop?’ A mist of confusion and hesitation still clouded the woman’s eyes.
Lucien saw that that was his chance to get her to roll down her window. He pointed to his ear and gave her a slight shake of the head, as if the combination of the closed window and the noise coming from the highway was blocking the sound of her voice.
‘I’m sorry, what was that?’ he said.
It worked, at least partially, because the woman lowered her window just shy of halfway before repeating her question.
Lucien smiled back shyly. ‘No, not exactly, ma’am.’ He then twisted his body just enough for her to be able to read the official patch stitched onto his right shoulder. ‘I’m a United States federal prison guard. I work at Lee Penitentiary. Just ended my shift, actually.’ He didn’t give her a chance to comment. ‘Why? Are you in need of some police assistance, ma’am? Is that why you pulled into this resting area? I could radio them from my truck, if you want. It will get them here much faster than a phone call.’
Lucien injected just enough concern into his tone of voice and facial expression to ease most of the woman’s doubts.
‘No,’ she replied. ‘I don’t need the police, thank you.’ Her voice deepened into sadness. ‘I pulled in here because I got a phone call.’ She shrugged. ‘A bad one. No way I could drive, talk and . . . cry at the same time.’
Lucien gave the woman a new, subdued smile, mainly as a reward for her keeping her sense of humor through something that was obviously hurting her.
‘I’m really sorry to hear that, ma’am. Is there anything I can do to help? Would you like some water? Maybe a candy bar? Sugar can be good for you at times. I’ve got some back in my truck.’ He threw his thumb over his right shoulder.
The woman lowered her window all the way and studied Lucien one more time. That was when he knew that he had sufficiently weakened her defenses to be able to push past them. He could see that she didn’t see him as an imminent threat anymore. Why would she? He was handsome, polite and well spoken. He had shown concern for her well-being. He worked for the United States Federal Government as a penitentiary guard and he had just offered to radio the police for her if she so wished.
The woman’s eyebrows arched. ‘Right now, what I need would be something a lot stronger than water.’
A new smile from Lucien. ‘I hear you. Unfortunately, all I can offer you right now is water . . .’ He paused and scratched his chin. ‘Or a cigarette.’
Lucien didn’t smoke, not anymore, but he had seen a couple of cigarette packets inside the glove compartment of the pickup truck.
‘I quit two years ago,’ the woman said, as her head tilted to one side. At the same time, a thoughtful look came over her. ‘But do you know what?’ she continued. ‘Fuck it. I quit just to please that cheating, good-for-nothing piece of shit.’ She shrugged. ‘Well, he can go fuck himself.’ Her gaze returned to Lucien. ‘Yeah, I’d love a cigarette.’
‘Sure. Give me just a sec.’
Lucien turned on the balls of his feet and walked the short distance between the Audi and the Colorado. As he reached into the glove compartment, he heard the Audi door open and close behind him. He stopped the smile before it reached his lips. When he turned around, she was leaning against the driver’s door, looking out in the distance, away from the highway. As Lucien moved to her, he unwrapped the cigarette packet, tapped one out and offered it to the woman.
‘Thank you,’ she replied, placing the cigarette between her lips.
Lucien took one for himself before lighting both of them. Hers first, of course.
As the woman took her first long and melancholic drag, her eyes closed and her head tilted back almost sensually. The expression on her face relaxed into one that was clearly full of pleasure, a pleasure that she had unwillingly given up.
‘Oh my God!’ she said, staring at the cigarette between her fingers. ‘This feels soooo good.’
Lucien also took a drag of his cigarette, but said nothing in return. Instead, and without giving it away, his eyes studied her a little bit more attentively.
The woman was about five-foot-six and voluptuous. Her hands had been professionally manicured. Her clothes and shoes had clearly come from designer stores, and on her right wrist she sported a $3,000 Omega Constellation watch.
Lucien peeked at the highway. Still no cars seemed to be slowing down to enter the resting area, but Lucien knew full well that toying with Lady Luck was a very risky game, one that he had no intention of playing.
‘Yeah, I know,’ he said, walking around to the front of the Audi. ‘I’ve given up a bunch of times, but I always end up going back to it. We’re all going to die anyway, right? Might as well have some enjoyment.’
‘I’ll smoke to that,’ the woman said, having another drag as she joined Lucien.