safe. At my house.”
“Take me home first. Then we can call the police.”
Was she only trying to buy time? Would going home be a diversion? He wasn’t letting her out of his sight until he knew why a bunch of criminals were about to come after him.
* * *
Remy gripped the door handle of the SUV as Lincoln drove down the street toward their homes. There was a marked police car in the street and another that was unmarked parked in her driveway.
“What are they doing here?” She’d planned to escape Lincoln, take Maddie and make a run for it, but now she was trapped.
Lincoln didn’t respond. He was probably as stumped as her. How could they have found out about their abduction so fast?
“Keep driving,” she said. “Don’t stop.”
“What?”
“Please. I can’t talk to them.” Oh, God, what would she do? She couldn’t be arrested.
“Why not?”
His sharp tone said enough. She must sound like a real fugitive.
He drove to a stop in front of the house.
Remy saw two detectives at the door. One was in tan slacks with a purple dress shirt and tie, and the other wore dark blue slacks with a white dress shirt and tie. The officers were still in the police car, but as soon as they spotted her, they began to get out.
“No.” The whisper emerged before she caught it.
“Why are you afraid of the police?” Lincoln asked.
She couldn’t answer. Her life could be over in a matter of minutes. All that would be left was rotting in prison.
“You don’t understand.” Shaking, fumbling with the door handle, she opened the SUV door and got out.
Lincoln came around the SUV, studying her intently. “Make me understand.”
She stared at him, numb with all-consuming fear. Stark. Terrifying.
“Ms. Lang?” the detective in the purple shirt called, leaving the front porch to approach. He was in his thirties, younger than his partner, taller and thinner, too.
Remy heard her own breathing, hating her weakness, helpless to be strong when the consequences were so great. She was innocent, but no one would believe her.
“Remy?” Lincoln took her hand.
She focused on his blue eyes.
“It’ll be okay.”
Her heart did a flip from the unexpected kindness, kindness she hadn’t had in more than two months. But he couldn’t possibly know it would be okay.
“We’ll put them off for now.”
Because he wanted to know what she was hiding, why men would not only try to kill her, they’d now want him dead right along with her. She owed him the truth. There was no refuting that. But the consequences were unforgiving if he didn’t believe her.
“Come on.”
Keeping her hand, he led her away from the SUV to the waiting detectives and officers. Did they know? Had Wade told them?
She tightened her grip on Lincoln’s powerful and steady hand. Walking toward the detectives made her knees weak. Lincoln hooked her arm with his and supported her on her death walk. She was seldom like this. There was very little she allowed to rock her. She was a strong woman, but going to jail for crimes she hadn’t committed threatened to break her.
“Ms. Lang?” the purple-shirted detective repeated.
“Yes,” Lincoln said. “This is Remy Lang.”
“Who are you?”
“Why don’t we go in and talk?” he suggested.
The detective passed a studied gaze over Remy and then nodded. They went inside; the officers waited outside. In case she ran?
Lincoln guided Remy to the sofa and sat beside her, a stranger and yet someone she could rely on.
The older detective sat in the chair adjacent to the sofa, and the taller one took out a pen and notebook and remained standing.
After the tall detective introduced himself as Baker and his partner Henderson, he asked, “How well do you know a Mr. Wade Nelson?”
She squeezed Lincoln’s hand, only then realizing she held it again.
“Not well. I met him two months ago.”
“How did you meet?” Baker asked.
Her heart was beating so hard, and her mouth went dry. “I...” This was rapidly going downhill. “Why are you asking me about Wade?”
The detective paused, scrutinizing her. “He was murdered last night.”
Remy covered her mouth with her free hand. Shock ripped away anything else she’d suspected. Murdered...
“How? Who?” They were here questioning her. Did they think...
“How did you meet Mr. Nelson?” Henderson asked from the chair.
She had to lie about that. She was a terrible liar, but she had to now. “I ran into him...at a coffee shop.”
“Which one?”
She gave them the name of one near Wade’s gun store. He went there almost every morning.
“When was the last time you saw him?” Baker asked.
Remy hesitated.
“He came to her house around six o’clock last night,” Lincoln said. “He was threatening her.”
“Was that the last time you saw him?” the detective asked her.
“Yes.” The lie left her numb with dread.
He studied her a moment longer. “Why was he threatening you?”
Remy tried to subdue her shaking but sensed Lincoln picking up on it. “He...h-he must be angry that I broke up with him.”
“You were seeing each other?”
Lincoln was watching her as closely as the detectives.
The lies were terrible and getting worse. “Yes. Not seriously, though. Just...seeing each other once in a while.”
The detectives shared a look, and then Henderson said, “We have a witness who says they saw you meet him last night.”
Remy’s heart flew. Panic
