Page 12 of Allie's Shelter
“Fine.” She turned away from him, watching the fields and the occasional home or business roll by.
“That was an invitation to tell me what really brings you back to the old homestead.”
“Like I said, I had some time off and Aunt Ruth agreed I could spend it at her place.”
“Uh-huh.” He checked the rearview mirror again. “Allie, most people taking ‘some time off’ don’t get shot at and attacked with a Taser in the span of twelve hours.”
She slumped into the seat. “I know.”
She had to know he wouldn’t settle for the flimsy excuse much longer, but he opted not to push with so many other things on his mind. Like where he could take her to get to the bottom of this. “Hiding out in another hotel doesn’t do us any good. That fake deputy has me convinced she won’t be the last one taking aim at you.”
“What do you suggest?”
The truth? “Just talk to me.”
It was a fine line they were walking. Even with an alternate identity, and he had the basics for that in the lining of his jacket, word had already spread too fast about the attempt on her life last night. She was too recognizable—and not because of the deep blue eyes and platinum-blond hair. She’d been an icon around here even as a kid and she’d funneled money into good programs around the area as an adult. A ten-year-old with an internet connection could find a good lead on her in less than five minutes.
He knew first hand because he’d done a chunk of the background research himself. The woman—thief—sitting in his car knew how to get publicity, and this time the media machine she used so well had painted a target on her back.
“What’s really going on here?” He hoped like hell the gusty sigh meant she was about to give him an answer he could work with.
“My boss was doing some underhanded things. I tried to report him to his boss and got invited to quit my job for my misplaced concern.”
“That’s all?”
“Isn’t that enough?”
Not even if part of her boss’s story was true. “It doesn’t seem like enough to warrant a hit man and a kidnapper.”
“You’d be surprised. Pharmaceuticals is a tough industry.” She shifted in the seat again, studying him with far too much intensity.
He tried not to squirm. “What’s going on inside your head, Allie?”
“Why didn’t you kill the woman at the motel?”
Of all the things she might’ve said, that was the most unexpected.
He deliberately relaxed his hands, releasing the tension and surprise. He’d changed, they both had, but who’d convinced her he ended lives for fun?
“You killed the guy at Aunt Ruth’s place.”
“It was him or you.” And no room for debate or doubt in his mind.
“I suppose you’re right. After last night I was surprised you went so easy on her.”
He managed not to growl at her. “Whatever you’ve heard about Special Forces teams, we aren’t a bunch of cold-blooded killers.” It annoyed him that people thought they knew what went on in his former line of work. The public had no idea how hard they trained to preserve life and he was long over trying to change anyone’s mind.
“But you worked on covert missions. Isn’t that the right term?”
“In certain circles, yes. I’ve traveled and done some work I can’t talk about yet.” He kept his eyes on the road, feeling her searching gaze roam over him like a caress. “But I’m not an assassin.” Why couldn’t she see he was different from the guy who’d tried to put a bullet through her last night?
“Sorry for insulting you. I’m just in way over my head and—and—”
He heard the hiccup and sniffle and knew she was crying. He said a prayer she’d get it together quickly so he wouldn’t have to pull over and offer comfort. That was a skill they didn’t cover in Special Forces training. “Allie, you can tell me what all this is really about.”
More sniffling. “I’ve said too much already. That probably wasn’t a random home invasion. They must have sent someone after me because they don’t want me to tell anyone anything important. I don’t want you or—or anyone else to get hurt.” She dabbed her eye with a tissue. “Take me back to Sheriff Cochran.”
“Not yet.” His phone hummed in the cup holder. The caller id was blocked, but he had to pick it up. He sent her an apologetic glance, checked the rearview mirror and picked up the phone.