Daniel gunned the engine and threw the truck into Reverse.
They flew backward into a field.
“Diner’s closed,” Daniel said. “I’m taking you somewhere safer.”
“But Ricky will come back to the diner looking for me!”
Another shot sounded in the distance.
“You sure your pal’s coming back for you? Someone took our picture. And who else had any idea where you were? For all you know, he had something to do with what just happened to you.” Tires spun in the mud. Windshield wipers slashed back and forth through the downpour. They were hurtling across a field into dark and empty nothingness. Did he even know where he was going?
“You can’t possibly suspect Ricky had anything to do with that!”
Daniel stared straight ahead. “It’s my job to suspect everyone.”
“Was. Was your job. You’re not my bodyguard. I’m not some helpless debutante who needs you to chuck me into your truck and make all the decisions for me.”
One eyebrow rose. But he didn’t even answer. She pressed her lips together and stared at the water pouring down the window beside her. Okay, that probably sounded pretty ungrateful considering he’d just saved her life. Again. But since he’d been the one who’d suggested they have some secret meeting in the middle of nowhere, it was probably his fault that her life had been in danger, too.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything I can cut your ties with here.” Daniel drove up a steep incline. They bounced through a drainage ditch and hit another field. “I do have a utility knife with me. But I’d have to stop the truck to get at it. Since those are heavy-duty plastic zip tie cuffs, it would take me a couple of minutes to hack my way through them. Under the circumstances, getting away from whoever just tried to kidnap you is my top priority.
“Also, it would take me half an hour to drive to the closest police station, and I made the call not to head back to the main road because if that thug has backup that’s probably where it would be waiting for us. But my place is less than three minutes from here and it’s not on the kind of road a stranger could just stumble on easily. Once we’re there, I can snip off those cuffs and we can call the police. Now, did that answer all your questions?”
Pretty much. “Enough for right now.”
“Great.” A wry grin crossed his lips. “And for the record, considering you just managed to escape from a moving vehicle while some thug had a gun pointed at you, helpless and debutante probably aren’t quite the words I’d use.”
Hang on, was that a compliment?
He risked a sideways glance. “I must admit, I’m kind of curious how you pulled that off.”
Looked like it was. They came out on a thin, unlit road. The rain slowed to a steady patter.
“Well, I didn’t realize it wasn’t Ricky at first,” she said. “By the time I got close enough to see it wasn’t his car, someone had already stepped out of the trees, covered my mouth and stuck a gun in my face. He ordered me into the car. Said if I didn’t go willingly he’d stick me in the trunk. I played along, but the first second the gun wasn’t pointed directly at me, I opened the door, swiveled on the seat and kicked him in the jaw.”
“Impressive.” The grin on his mouth spread all the way up to his eyes.
They pulled onto a dirt road and the truck slowed to a crawl. Trees pressed up against the window. Lightning flashed across the sky. She looked up.
A stone farmhouse loomed in front of them. Derelict and deserted looking, the building was three stories tall, with a wide, sagging front porch. If this whole area was mostly a ghost town, then this manor was definitely the broken jewel of the battered crown. He drove past the house and farther up the driveway to a rather big and surprisingly modern-looking barn garage. At the press of a button clipped to his visor, the garage door rolled up. “Welcome to my home.”
They pulled out of the rain. The door rolled shut behind them.
“The house itself isn’t much to look at yet.” He turned off the truck and climbed out. “I’m restoring it from the ground up. Just the kitchen, one bedroom and the study are livable so far. The living room’s nothing but a foundation pit and the whole second and third floors are structurally unsound. I still spend most of my time at my apartment in the city.”
She scanned the garage. Rows of both antique and modern tools were arranged over a reclaimed wood workbench. Piles of lumber lay neatly stacked against the wall. He walked around the truck and opened her door. The gentle smell of sawdust filled the air. “I built the garage before I started gutting the house. There’s a loft over the workbench, which doubles as both storage and sleeping space.”
She glanced up. A thick wave of wet red hair tumbled over her face.
“May I?” he asked. She nodded. He brushed the hair gently behind her ear. Then he unbuckled her seat belt. “I’m really very sorry to leave you sitting in those cuffs so long. Come on. Let’s get them off you.”
She started to step out of the truck. Her left foot snagged on some kind of strap underneath the passenger seat. She tumbled forward. Her body fell against his chest. His arms wrapped tight around her.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He set her on the ground.
A flush rose to her cheeks. “My foot’s just caught on something.”
She looked down and sucked in a breath. It was the Torchlight News camera.
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