arm. “Wait a minute. When I was returning to the office, a car came careening around the corner, tires screeching and everything. Do you think it might be connected?”
“What kind of car? Did you get a look at the driver?”
“It was an old car, beat-up, midsize and dark. I didn’t see who was driving, but can you tell the detective?”
“I’ll tell him and you can tell him yourself when you talk to him again. This lot is straight in-and-out, right? No attendant?”
“If you’re a visitor, you take a ticket on your way in and pay at a machine before you leave. There should be some record around that time.” She slipped the photo into her purse.
“I’ll pass it on. This your car?”
It was the only car left in the aisle, maybe on the entire level.
“This is it. Thanks.” She hit the key fob, and the officer waited until she got into the car. She waved at him in her rearview mirror as he stepped back into the elevator.
Then she broke down.
Her messy cry lasted a good five minutes. When she got it all out, she bent forward and reached into her glove compartment for some tissues.
As she straightened up, she heard a whisper of movement behind her. Her eyes flew to the rearview mirror and she met the steady gaze of a man in her backseat.
Austin held his breath. He had to play this right or this emotionally overwrought woman just might go ballistic on him. And he’d deserve it.
He held up both hands. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m a friend of Dr. Fazal’s, and I think I know what happened to him.”
One of her hands was gripping the steering wheel and the other was covering the center where the horn was located. If she drew attention to them, to him, it would be all over.
Her breath came out in short spurts and her gaze never left his in the mirror. “Do you have a gun on me?”
He could tell her he did and she’d probably do whatever he asked, but he didn’t want to frighten her any more than he had—any more than she had been by tonight’s events.
“I don’t have a gun on you. You can lay on that horn and I’ll hightail it out of your car, out of your life, but you may never know what happened to Hamid... And your own life may be in danger.”
Her dark eyes, beautiful even with makeup smudged all around them, narrowed—not exactly the reaction he’d expected.
She blew her nose with the tissue and tossed it on the floor of the car. Turning slightly in the driver’s seat, she asked, “If you know so much, how come you’re not up there right now talking to the Boston PD?”
“For the same reason I didn’t come and knock on your front door or give you a call. I’m trying to keep a low profile—for reasons I may not be able to tell you.”
“Because you killed him?”
“I didn’t kill him, and I won’t harm you.”
“How do I know that?”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?” He relaxed in the backseat, his hands on his knees in full view. “You already know I’m no threat to you. You sense it. In fact, you’re a street-savvy woman, aren’t you, Sophia Grant?”
She spun around to face him. “Who the hell are you? How do you know me? Dr. Fazal?”
He splayed his fingers in front of him. “I’m going to reach into my front pocket.”
Nodding, she curled her hands into fists as if ready to take him on.
He slipped his military ID from his pocket and held it in front of her face. “That’s me. I’m US military, and I’m on an assignment.”
She squinted at the laminated card and shifted her eyes to compare his face to the picture on the ID.
He asked, “Can we go somewhere and talk? You might feel more comfortable in a public place.”
“I might feel more comfortable if you sit in the front seat where I can see your hands.”
He held up his hands again, pinching his ID between his fingers. “They’re right here. I’d rather stay in the back for now. I don’t want to be seen in your car in case...”
“In case someone’s watching me, following me?” She started the car’s engine. “Why would someone be interested in me?”
Why wouldn’t they be? Austin dragged his gaze from her luscious lips and met her eyes. “Because you worked with Dr. Fazal.”
“It wasn’t suicide. He didn’t kill himself.” Her chin jutted forward as if daring him to disagree with her.
“He may have killed himself, but only because he had no choice. The men after him would’ve killed him anyway—and probably after hours or days of torture.”
She gasped and covered her mouth with one hand.
A twinge of guilt needled his belly. He’d gone too far. Just because she hadn’t screamed and hit the horn or fainted didn’t mean she had a hard shell impervious to pain.
“I’m sorry, and you’re right. Dr. Fazal was not suicidal, but I would like a better idea of what was going on with him. Can you help me out?”
“I knew it.” She smacked the steering wheel. “Those idiots were trying to tell me he killed himself when the office had obviously been searched.”
“Searched?” His pulse sped up. “Was anything taken?”
“Just his computer as far as I could tell. The cops had me look around, but I was too rattled to see straight.” She put the car in Reverse and backed out of the space. “I know a place in Cambridge, not too far from here—dark, not too crowded, but crowded enough so that we won’t be noticed.”
“Sounds good.” He ducked down and lay across the backseat. “I’m going to stay down. I want you to check your mirrors when you drive out of the parking structure to make sure you’re not being followed. Keep an eye out. Slow down and let cars pass you, take a few turns if you think someone’s tailing you.”
“You’re not making me feel any better.”
“You’ll be safe—with me.” The same couldn’t be said for Dr. Fazal, and Austin felt the failure of showing up too late to protect him gnaw at his gut.
The tires squealed and the car bounced as she pulled out of the parking structure. Austin’s forehead hit the back of the driver’s seat. “Did you see someone?”
“All clear so far. Why?”
“You stepped on that gas like you had the devil himself on your tail.”
“To
