needed—if he could just keep her in line. “A pretty little thing like you with that sassy mouth and no husband or boyfriend? Are you a widow or a workaholic?”
“Am I a...?” He met her glare this time, and she quickly glanced away. “It’s...complicated.”
As intriguing as that answer might be to follow up on, Nash had the information he needed. She lived alone. No one was expecting her for a date. No one would worry if she didn’t check in for the next few hours. Steer clear of the cop big brother—if he wasn’t just a story she’d made up to try to intimidate him—and this plan could work. “Trust me. I understand complicated.”
“I bet you do.” They passed a sign indicating a state highway up ahead. She pointed to the traffic lights in the distance. “Am I taking you to your place? Just tell me where to turn. I’m bad with street names. I promise if I see the address, I’ll erase it right out of my head.”
“I’m not from here.”
“Are we going to your hideout?”
“Hideout?” Amusement threatened a smile again. “Isn’t that a little Sam Spade-ish?”
“Whatever you call it. To meet up with your friends? Will they take care of you? Or are they the three men who did that to you?”
“They were from...” Ah, hell. He was saying too much. He didn’t want to give her any names or places she might share later. “I don’t have friends in K.C.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” She adjusted her lights down from bright as a car coming from the opposite direction appeared over the next hill. “Why are you here?”
“You ask an awful lot of questions, darlin’.”
“Darlin’? I think I prefer Peewee.”
Nash considered her answer. He could give a little as long as she was cooperating. “What’s your name again?”
“Teresa.” She rolled her R with a musical lilt.
“Take me home, Teresa.”
“You said you weren’t from here.” Her gaze darted down to the dashboard, and her posture straightened a tiny bit, putting him on guard. “Oh. I wondered where the twang of yours was from. How far south are we going? I’ll need to stop for gas if we’re driving any distance. There are a couple of gas stations up on 40 Highway.”
Really? She thought she could outfox him and stop in a public place where she could call for help? His momentary lapse into nice-guy territory had just ended. “Don’t get too smart, Teresa.” He nodded toward the needle on her dash before raising his gun in his lap. “Your tank is practically full. Very responsible for this kind of weather. Nice try, though. I’m guessing our destination isn’t that far or you wouldn’t be on this backwater stretch of road. You’re taking me to your place.”
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