THE STRANGER AT THE GAS STATION 

The rain had been falling for nearly an hour when Cole Hayes finally decided to stop for fuel. It was close to midnight, and the highway outside the city was almost completely empty. Cole rode alone, as he usually did, his matte-black motorcycle cutting through the rain while the glow of distant streetlights reflected across his black helmet and soaked leather jacket. At thirty-four, Cole had the kind of appearance that made strangers instinctively move aside when he walked into a room. He was tall, heavily muscular, broad through the shoulders, with a rugged angular face, sharp jawline, dark brown eyes, short black hair, light stubble, and a thin scar through his left eyebrow. His black leather jacket, dark jeans, heavy boots, and gloves only made him look more intimidating. But Cole had never been interested in looking dangerous. He simply preferred being left alone.

He pulled into a nearly empty gas station on the edge of town and switched off the engine. The sudden silence was broken only by rain hitting the metal canopy above him. Cole removed his helmet, shook the water from his hair, and began filling the tank. He noticed the old silver sedan at the pump across from him because its hood was open. A woman stood beside it, staring into the engine compartment without actually touching anything. She looked around thirty, wearing a beige coat that was already soaked at the shoulders. She tried the car door, checked her phone, looked at the road, then looked back at the car.

Something wasn't right.

Cole finished fueling but didn't leave immediately. He watched her for another few seconds.

Then he noticed the dark SUV parked across the street.

It wasn't doing anything.

It was simply sitting there with its headlights off.

The woman looked toward it.

The SUV's headlights suddenly came on.

The woman's entire body stiffened.

Cole put his helmet on the seat of his motorcycle and walked over.

“Car trouble?”

The woman turned quickly. She looked at Cole, then at his motorcycle, then back toward the road.

“I... think the battery's dead.”

Cole looked under the hood.

The battery terminals were fine.

The engine wasn't the problem.

He looked at her.

“You've tried starting it?”

She nodded.

“Several times?”

Another nod.

Cole closed the hood halfway.

“Stay here.”

The woman grabbed his sleeve.

“Please don't.”

Cole stopped.

She immediately let go.

“Sorry.”

Her voice was shaking.

Cole studied her face.

“Are you being followed?”

She looked toward the dark SUV.

She didn't answer.

That was enough.

Cole turned toward the road.

The SUV slowly entered the gas station.

The woman stepped backward.

Cole noticed that she was holding something inside her coat.

“What's in your hand?”

She hesitated.

Then she pulled out a tiny black USB drive.

“This.”

Cole looked at it.

“What is it?”

“Evidence.”

“Evidence of what?”

She looked at him.

“My husband has been stealing money from his company for years. I found the records. When he realized I copied them, he tried to take my phone and lock me in the house.”

Cole's expression hardened.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.”