Passenger Seat
Sixteen years of receipts. One that didn't add up.
Dana Pruitt has kept the books for her husband's trucking business since the day he bought the truck. Every quarter she sorts Wade's fuel receipts at the kitchen table, matches them line by line to his logbook, and files the state tax report. In sixteen years she has never found a mistake.
Then, in the spring of 2007, she does.
A diesel receipt from West Memphis, Arkansas, stamped 3:12 a.m., on a night Wade's logbook says he was asleep in Amarillo, six hundred miles away. The same week, a young woman's body is found in a culvert two miles from the Pruitts' front door.
Wade is a deacon, a softball coach, and the best-liked man in Cane County, Oklahoma. Dana tells herself it's a clerical error. Then, cleaning his cab, she finds a small turquoise ring wedged in the track of the passenger seat, with a girl's name engraved inside.
Nobody listens to a suspicious wife. The local deputy is Wade's fishing buddy, and the state investigators see a jealous woman with a grudge. So Dana does the only thing she knows how to do. She goes back through three years of logbooks and receipts and checks them against the dates when women went missing along I-40.
The closer the numbers come to adding up, the closer Wade watches her. And the only way to prove what he's done may be to climb into the passenger seat and ride west with him.
The Passenger Seat is a slow-burn Southern domestic thriller about a marriage built on not looking, the women nobody counts, and the wife who finally does the math.
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