The sheer amount of food the waitress delivered to the table was enough to catch the attention of the nearby tables.  Most of the surrounding customers had the decency to look away and not stare but the little boy at the booth across from Clara couldn't stop staring.  She offered him a little smile and a wave of her fingers before focusing on the feast laid out before her.  This wasn't going to be a sprint to shovel food in her face.  This was a marathon.  The French toast disappeared first, then the sausage and bacon, followed by the omelet, and pancakes.  She piled the scrambled eggs onto the biscuit and ate the sandwich she'd created before washing it all down with chocolate milk.<br/><br/>"You need anything else or do you want the check?"<br/><br/>"The check is fine," replied Clara as she nibbled on the chunks of fruit from the small glass bowl.<br/><br/>"I'll take it whenever you're ready."<br/><br/>Without saying a word, Clara fished the stolen credit card out of the back pocket of the stolen jeans and handed it to the waitress.  The older woman sighed heavily and headed toward the waitress station.  She returned and set down a stack of narrow slips and a pen which Clara promptly picked up to scrawl what she hoped was an appropriate tip and an illegible signature.  Transaction completed, she returned the credit card to her pocket and headed out.<br/><br/>Sticking around town, with a stolen card in her pocket and a death investigation starting blocks away, didn't exactly seem like the best idea.  Which way was the fastest way out of town though?  Pausing on the sidewalk outside of the IHOP, Clara lifted her nose to the air.  There was a distinctive smell of nature - trees and grass and decaying matter - but that wasn't what she was searching for.  What Clara wanted was the smell of asphalt, rubber, and gasoline.  That meant cars and more than likely, highway and highway meant getting father away from Nowak.  Setting her feet in motion, she headed off toward that concoction of aromas that was going to lead her to freedom.<br/><br/>Twenty minutes later, the long-awaited road finally made its appearance.  Finally feeling like something was going right in her day, she didn't bother to hold back a smile.  Stealing a car would only draw more attention and it would only be a matter of time before someone remembered the small blonde woman and her gigantic companion.  But hitchhiking?  No one cared about someone trying to thumb a ride.  Clara placed herself right on the shoulder and stuck her thumb out.<br/><br/>The first few cars whizzed on by, the people inside focused on getting wherever it was they were going.  She was patient though.  All she needed was one car to pull over.  As if some higher power was rewarding her for her patience, the next car, a rusted-out beat-up pick-up truck pulled over and came to a stop on the gravel shoulder.  Picking up the pace, Clara jogged to the passenger side, putting on her best helpless smile.<br/><br/>Inside the truck's cab sat an older man, his clothes worn but clean and well-maintained.  "Where ya headin'?"<br/><br/>"Anywhere.  I just need to get out of here.  I had a fight with my boyfriend and he took the car...," she offered apologetically as if her presence was an inconvenience.<br/><br/>He nodded knowingly.  "Well, c'mon then.  Hop on in and I'll take you as far as I'm goin'."<br/><br/>"Thank you so much.  You have no idea how much this means to me," she said as she yanked open the door and climbed inside the truck.<br/><br/>The man inclined his head then pulled them onto the road.  "The air conditioning don't work.  I hope you don't mind.  Just leave the window down as much as you can stand it."<br/><br/>Clara smiled, her gaze directed out the window.  "It's okay.  I like the fresh air."  The fresh air that was carrying her scent out the window and into the air behind them, a scent trail for anyone with the capability to sniff her out.