“Let’s call it a night.”
Arnie looked up from the report he was typing on the computer. “You look like hell.”
Curiously, the blunt pronouncement lightened something inside Joe. “Feel like it, too.” He tried to recall the last time he’d had eight hours of sleep. Or even six. He gave up the task as useless after a moment. The last twenty-fours he’d been running on adrenaline alone, but he was about to crash, physically, and he wanted to be in the comfort of his home when he did.
Arnie pressed Save and rose. “You’re right. We may as well go home. Everyone else has.” Mitchell had left an hour ago. Even Tapahe had finally exited the NTP station forty minutes earlier, and it was rare to be in the building without the other man being in his office.
The two men walked out together, calling a goodbye to the skeletal crew that made up the night-shift. “Do you think Graywolf was blowing smoke earlier? With the crack to Mitchell about never looking at one of your own?”
“I don’t know. Graywolf isn’t known for his honesty, but even he has to realize that making claims he can’t substantiate won’t get him anywhere.”
“You think he’s saying they had some Customs or Border Patrol official in their pocket?” Arnie’s words seemed to mirror the direction of Joe’s own thoughts. “That would explain them getting away with this business as long as they did.”
“He’s probably trying to sweeten the deal he’s working. I believe him about one thing, though. There’s someone above him calling the shots.” Joe stopped at his Jeep, his hand on the door. “Someone had to have the contacts in Mexico not only with the cartel, but also to become known as a guide who can get people safely over the border.”
“Which could have been Graywolf and Lee.”
“Sure.” Joe rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms. Lack of sleep had them feeling grainy. “But once up here, who had the slavery contacts? Lee? He spent more than half his time living in Mexico. From questioning Martinez, the driver, I have him figured as strictly muscle. And it sure wasn’t Graywolf. He’s got the drug background but no one is going to trust a young punk like him in an underground slavery ring. He doesn’t have the credibility.”
“So that leaves…who?”
Joe shrugged. In his mind he’d eliminated the three, but he was no closer to figuring out the identity of their superior. He was too tired right now to try, at any rate.
“Want to stop somewhere and get something to eat?”
“I need to get home while I can still function. Food can wait until tomorrow.”
Arnie pulled open the door on his SUV. “You really going home?”
Ready to turn down another dinner invitation Joe replied, “I’m really going home.”
“Because I thought maybe you’d be stopping by to see your little belagana.” Arnie grinned at his narrowed look. “She wasn’t any too happy with you when she was here yesterday, but you weren’t exactly showering her with gratitude, either.”
He didn’t want to recall that scene, or the way the hours had passed with interminable slowness until she’d walked into the NTP headquarters. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know what I saw. And the sparks coming off the two of you were enough to heat the whole office.”
Joe got in his vehicle. “Sounds like you’re getting hot flashes. Better go home, Arnie.”
“I’m just saying. You might sleep a whole lot better if you first deal with what’s really bothering…”
It gave Joe a measure of satisfaction to shut the door on the rest of his friend’s words. But the action didn’t prevent them from echoing in his thoughts as he pulled out of the NTP lot. He could be thankful for the break in the case that had allowed them to intercept the smugglers while still damning the way it had come about. And if that made him a hyprocrite, he had only to recall his first reaction when Tapahe informed him about Delaney’s suggestion.
Anger had been a much preferable emotion to the sick fear that had twisted through him from the moment he heard of the plan until he’d seen her safe again. The relief that had hit him then had weakened his knees and ignited his temper.
Because it wasn’t supposed to be like this. No strings meant no emotions, didn’t it? He’d been as eager as she for a casual relationship without expectations or promises. The last thing he needed or wanted was involvement with another woman who couldn’t hope to understand how interwoven he was in the fabric of his culture.
But he’d gotten her understanding. The memory slammed into him as he pulled into his driveway, of her soft voice full of disbelief. She didn’t know you very well, did she?
That perceptiveness made him edgy. She saw things other women didn’t, from a perspective of suffering few others could imagine.
How could a woman who was supposed to mean nothing to him so quickly become a raging hunger in his blood? How could he, a man of innate caution, have failed to see the risk she presented? Or recognizing it, failed to take heed of the warning?
He stared at his darkened house without really seeing it. The smartest thing to do was stumble to his bed, lose himself in sleep for the next twelve hours.
Which didn’t explain why, moments later, he shifted the vehicle into Reverse, and headed toward the town limits.
Delaney stared at the rough outline of the book, mentally adding photos to the future chapters that would accentuate the oral histories and narrative. The actual writing always proved to be the easiest part for her. When it came to choosing the appropriate photos, or worse, limiting how many would make the final cut of the project, she’d agonize for weeks.
But she was a long way from that point. Right now she needed to begin sorting through the photos she’d already shot, putting them in picture libraries according to subject matter so that she could find them easily, deleting the pictures that weren’t of the highest quality. She had very exacting standards when it came to her art. In this area, at least, she could control her finished product in a way she wasn’t always able to control events in her own life.
Her reaction to Joe Youngblood, for example.
Delaney’s blood simmered anew recalling his expression when she’s seen him at the NTP station. She’d read the temper in his eyes. His gaze had been as scorching as a laser, and she’d been left with little doubt as to his reaction to her involving herself in his case.
Which was too damn bad. She punched a command into the keyboard with a little more force than was necessary. No man had ever been allowed to dictate her actions and if this was all about tiptoeing around his ego, well, then he had some hard lessons to learn about her.
By the time she heard the knock on her door her temper had gone from simmer to a boil. It was late and she really hadn’t expected to hear from Joe, so she took the precaution of checking the judas hole. Recognizing him she pulled open the door and unlatched the screen, spoiling for a fight.
“Can I assume from your visit that you’ve come to thank me for my help?” she said with mock sweetness. “Oh, wait, I forgot. Joe Youngblood doesn’t need anyone’s assistance. He’s the Navajo’s answer to Superman. Tell me.” She cocked her head challengingly. “Did you bust that operation you were investigating all by yourself, or did you let your partner help?”
His lips tightened at her sarcasm, but his voice was even when he answered. “There was an entire task force deployed to make the arrests.” He walked by her into the room, leaving her to follow.
“A whole task force?” She widened her eyes in mock surprise. “Well, don’t feel too bad. Even superheroes occasionally let their sidekicks in on the action.”
The muscle in his jaw was clenched tightly. “They were all law enforcement. Professionals trained to handle dangerous situations.”
“Is that what this is about? That I’m not a cop?” She gave a short laugh. “Be honest. It’s because I’m a woman.” She ignored the dangerous glint in his eyes, to continue. “I’ve got a news flash for you-I’ve been making my own decisions for a few years, now. I even manage to dress myself daily without help.”
“You deliberately put yourself into a high-risk situation,” he said, anger lacing his words.
“Well, your captain disagreed with you about the risk.”
“You got lucky. No one was at the site, but you didn’t know that. And neither did he. You could have been shot at. Maybe hit this time, killed. Did you weigh in those factors at all when you dreamed up this idea?”
Her voice raised. “Or I can get hit by a bus crossing the street. If people sit home and assess risks all day, they never accomplish anything.”
“I don’t care about ‘people’,” he bit out, shoving his face to hers. “I care about you! More than I should. Do you know what I went through, waiting to hear from you?”
“I didn’t ask for that,” she whispered. Her throat dried out abruptly, her temper squelched like quenched flame. She took a step away from him, and then another. “I don’t want that.”
She couldn’t be responsible for his feelings. She wouldn’t be. It was bad enough recognizing that she’d gotten involved with him deeper, faster, than she’d ever thought possible. Whatever emotions he dragged to the surface inside her, however, she’d handle them. But she couldn’t handle his. Couldn’t manage the guilt and recriminations that would invariably follow her failure to be what he wanted. Who he wanted. The thought of having to try scared her to death.
“You think I want this?” His face was a mask of frustration. “That I was looking for it? My personal life is a shambles and the last thing I need right now is to fall in love with a woman I just met.”
“This isn’t love,” she interrupted, a little wildly. Denying it loudly enough, often enough, could make the words true.
“The hell it isn’t.” He strode over and caught her arm. “It’s love when I’m sick with fear until you show up safe and sound at the station. And when I think about you even though my mind should be occupied with the case. Maybe neither of us planned on it, but we’re in deeper than we ever intended to go.” She tried to turn away, but his hand on her arm stopped her. “Yes, we are. You can’t deny it and neither can I. Now the question is, what are we going to do about it?”
It must be due to some genetic flaw in her makeup that she preferred his temper to his emotion-roughened voice. His tone had turned low, his touch caressing. As if he understood that his angry declaration had her wanting to flee from his feelings. From her own.
“You can’t run away from it, Delaney. I know you better than that. You don’t run away from much in this life, do you?”
He was crediting her with a bravery she didn’t deserve. The flashbacks of the bombing of the Iraqi hotel weren’t the only memories that had left scars. There were the still-fresh recollections of what it meant to love a man who could only give her leftovers of himself. And what was left of Reid after he’d poured most of his energy and emotion into his work had never satisfied. She wasn’t sure what had scared her more-the thought that someday she would have walked away from him, or that she would have settled. And lost a little of herself in the process.
“Look at you.” Was that amusement in his voice? Her gaze flew to meet his. “You’ll walk into the middle of a war-torn country for a story, but right now you look terrified. Is it that bad, admitting you…feel something for me?”
She didn’t miss that hesitation in his words. And she certainly didn’t mirror his amusement over this scene. “I don’t know how to do this,” she said rawly. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
A measure of tension seeped out of him. His thumb skated over the sensitive skin above her palm. “I don’t want anything you don’t give freely. Nothing has changed.”
But she knew that wasn’t true. Everything had changed with this conversation, not the least being that she was nearly paralyzed with panic. “I need to think.”
“No. You need to quit thinking. So do I.” He drew her closer, his arms looped around her loosely, seeming not to notice the stiffness in her limbs. Or determined to ignore it. “I handled this badly. We don’t have to have this conversation now. We’ll just see where things lead. It doesn’t have to be more complicated than that.”
But he was wrong and they both knew it. Sex was uncomplicated, relationships weren’t. Invariably emotions ruined everything, changed everything. It was only a matter of time before they had to deal with that. The thought pierced her with a sliver of the pain that surely was to come.
But not tonight. She could read the exhaustion on his face. There was no way to solve this now, and really, what was the point? She already knew how it would end. Best to back away from the declaration he’d made and pretend, at least for a time, that it didn’t alter everything.
She strove for a steady voice. “Does this mean I don’t get to see you in your tights and cape?”
“Keep it up, Carson.” He nuzzled her neck. “I may be tempted to show you some of my superpowers.”
“I’d be interested in seeing those myself.” They both jerked, as the screen door opened and a figure stepped inside, pointing a gun in their direction. “Barring that, I’ll settle for a little information.”
“What the…Bruce?” Joe released Delaney and turned toward his ex-father-in-law, automatically placing his body between her and the gun. His mind responded sluggishly as he struggled to reconcile the unfamiliar sight of the mild-mannered schoolteacher with an automatic pistol, complete with silencer.
“You kept me waiting, Joe.” Bruce Glenn moved into the room, his gaze going from him to Delaney and back again. “We could have handled this just between the two of us if you’d shown up at home. As it was, I had no choice but to follow you out here.”
“Whatever this is about, we can still handle it between the two of us.” Carefully, Joe took a step toward the other man, halted when the pistol was raised and pointed toward his chest.
“It’s too late for that. I don’t have much time and you have something I need. So both of you will have to come with me.”
Eyeing the man speculatively, Joe wondered if he’d gone over the edge. His entire demeanor at the NTP station had been off, but he’d figured Bruce had just been upset about his lack of contact with Jonny. He’d showered the boy with attention since his birth. But now…he was acting entirely too comfortable with that gun, and Joe had never known him to have one before.
“Just tell me what you need.” The number one rule in volatile situations like this was to keep the gunman calm. But he also wanted to get the man away from Delaney. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what you want.”
Bruce’s smile was chilly, and completely unlike him. “What I want is my grandson. You’re going to take me to him.”
Joe’s fingers clutched the steering wheel in a grip that made them ache. Bruce had insisted they take the SUV he’d arrived in, one Joe had never seen before. Checking the rearview mirror again, he met the other man’s gaze. “She’s fine,” Bruce said, indicating Delaney, who was seated next to him, bound and gagged. “She’ll remain that way as long as you cooperate.”
He wished desperately that he could shift the mirror’s position to see Delaney’s expression. Professional instincts warred with all-too-personal emotion, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted by it. But emotion had reared the instant the man had stepped into Delaney’s house and pointed a gun at her.
“Why don’t you tell me where we’re going?” he asked with a calm he was far from feeling. “Seems simpler that way.”
“Just follow my directions. You’ve already made things more difficult than they should be.” The man’s voice sounded with frustrated fury. “I know you’ve discovered where Heather took Jonny. Did you call your cop friends when you figured out Heather was no longer in Window Rock? Or did you go looking yourself?”
Thinking furiously, he said, “Heather’s not in Window Rock? Are you sure?”
The pistol was slammed against his head, hard enough to have him veering on the deserted road. “Don’t play games with me. I’ve already waited hours and I’m out of patience. Where did you find her?”
Distant headlights shone ahead, the first they’d seen since they’d left Delaney’s. Joe slipped one hand lower on the wheel, closer to the lever controlling his brights. Maybe he could flick his lights at the driver. At the least they might call in to report a possible impaired…
“Don’t even think of trying to alert that driver. It’d be a shame if I had to hurt the woman just because you did something stupid.”
“This is crazy, Bruce. I miss Jonny, too, but there are easier ways to get to see him.”
“You’re a little slow on the uptake today. I’m not just going to see him. I’m taking him with me.”
Time crawled to a standstill. A horrible suspicion bloomed, too illogical to be given credence. “Where are you going, Bruce?”
“I think I’ll keep that detail to myself. But I don’t have much time, do I, Joe? How much longer do you think it will be before Graywolf spills everything he knows? He’d sell his grandmother for the right price, and I’m guessing he thinks the price of his freedom is my life.”
The truth hit him with the force of a careening bus. Bruce? Involved with Graywolf? Disbelief filtered through him. “What do you know about Brant Graywolf?”
The man’s expression in the rearview mirror was one he’d never seen before. Calm, matter-of-fact, cold-blooded. “I took precautions. A man in my line of work has to. But an operation is only as strong as the links in its chain and once things start to disconnect it doesn’t take long to bring the whole thing down around your head. When I didn’t get the call from Graywolf telling me Lee’s run was successful I knew I didn’t have much time. I went to your house to find the address for my grandson, but you didn’t write it down, did you, Joe? You’re a careful son of a bitch, I’ll give you that. Turn left here.”
“This isn’t a road.”
“Turn left!”
He gave a sharp turn of the wheel and they bounced over worn ground. The time for pretense was over. “There’s no way I’ll let you take my son.”
“You know, I knew that’d be a problem,” the man said conversationally. He was leaning forward to watch the uneven terrain carefully. “But turns out you provided your own incentive.” He reached over and grabbed Delaney by the neck, pulled her close enough so Joe could see the gun pointed at her forehead.
“Now this would be a tough choice for anyone. But I overheard enough of your conversation tonight to be pretty sure you’d like to keep her alive. And the only way to do that is to give me what I want.”
A paralyzing fear encased Joe. He couldn’t be asked to choose between his son and Delaney. No one should have to make a choice like that. Somehow he had to figure out a way to save them both.
“Turn right. It’s only a few miles.”
The Jeep jolted over the uneven ground, and Joe wondered again where they were going.
“Why don’t you call Heather now, Bruce? Talk to your daughter. To Jonny. You’ve got to see that this isn’t the way to solve things.”
“Heather’s made her opinions clear,” he retorted. “Why do you think she left the reservation? She doesn’t want Jonny contaminated by me. But he’s my grandson! She’s made her choices. Now I’ll make mine.”
Joe’s heart seemed to stop, then slowly picked up speed again. Heather had known about Bruce’s activities. Or at least had suspected enough to send her running with their son. All this time he’d believed she left to be ready to run if she lost custody. Instead, she’d been protecting Jonny, in her own way.
It wouldn’t have been Joe’s way. Anger ignited like a match to a fuse. She could have come to him. Gone to the police with what she knew. Instead she’d chosen to shield her father from the consequences of his actions.
And now her choice just might return to haunt them both.
“There, up ahead.”
Joe peered out the window, but with no regular road to guide him, he was unclear just where he was. He didn’t normally travel reservation land as the crow flies. All he could see up ahead was the dark silhouette of a rocky butte. But he heard the sound Delaney made and was suddenly certain he could guess the site.
The abandoned Graywolf mine.
“Police have been swarming all over this property. We need to go somewhere safer, Bruce. Somewhere we can talk.”
“The police are long gone. Why would they keep it under surveillance when our cargo was intercepted? It’s the perfect destination. Because we both know they have no reason to come back.”
Joe’s mouth dried and desperation ricocheted through him. Unfortunately the man was right. The members of the task force had no idea who they were looking for at this point, and no reason to believe that Graywolf’s boss would head back to the very place they had planned to stash the illegals.
Joe and Delaney were on their own.
His palms were slippery on the wheel as he slowed at Bruce’s command. He had a sudden premonition of just how this was going to go down and the scenario wasn’t pleasant. His best chance was to try and overpower the man, but Delaney’s presence made that trickier. She gave Bruce leverage. And she represented a weakness for Joe.
“Turn left here and stop. Leave the lights on and the vehicle running.”
He made the mistake of turning to look at Delaney. Her gaze was fixed on the mine, and her eyes looked as though she were peering into the gates of hell. He could see the shudders already racking her body and knew she understood what the man intended.
Bruce reached across her and opened the door, then, with his hand gripping her arm, roughly shoved her out of the Jeep. “Get over here, Joe.”
Adrenaline balling in his stomach, he rounded the front of the Jeep and caught Delaney as Bruce gave her a push toward him. “You two stay in front of me. She’ll remain in the mine and you’ll come with me. Call her my insurance policy.”
Joe didn’t have to feign difficulty propelling Delaney toward the mine entrance. She had her heels dug in the ground like a person on their way to the gallows. And if he let himself think about the terrifying panic she was experiencing right now, neither one of them would get through this alive.
Joe gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. There was no way he’d leave her to fight her demons alone inside that cavernous shaft, but they were going to have to enter it. Grimly, he hoped he could transfer a bit of reassurance through his touch but doubted it would penetrate her sheer terror.
When they reached the mine entrance, a quick burst of hope unfurled. It was unsecured, a sawed-through lock lying at the foot of the doors.
Bruce saw it and muttered an oath. “Open the doors.”
Joe pushed one door forward, and then the other. The hinges screeched with age and disuse and he had to catch Delaney in the next moment, as her knees seemed to go to water. “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered urgently as he held her upright. But she didn’t seem to hear him. Abruptly, muscles that had seemed lax only a moment ago seemed filled with extraordinary strength and she fought frantically, with single-minded determination to break free of his grip and flee this confrontation with her darkest fears.
“Control her, Youngblood or I’ll shoot her where she stands.”
It was only the certainty of that threat that would make Joe catch her and swing her around, moving her inexorably into the mine’s entrance. “It’ll be all right,” he whispered the litany in her ear as he held her tightly before him. “I promise it’ll be all right.”
Delaney could hear his voice but the words meant nothing to her. The only thing she was aware of was the yawning blackness that was drawing closer with every step. Her blood had turned glacial, her throat closed with horror. Her frenzied struggles were instinctive, involuntary. She couldn’t go in there. She knew if she did, she’d never come out alive.
It was like being struck blind, every ounce of light blocked by fallen debris and twisted metal. The interior shrinking until each molecule of oxygen seemed sucked away to leave her to gasp and fight for every breath. She’d die like the rest of them, screams turning inhuman as the certainty of her death loomed closer.
“Find something to use on that latch for the doors. I want your girlfriend staying put while you drive me to get Jonny.”
“I’ll give you the address.” Something in Joe’s voice filtered through the fog of Delaney’s fear. “You go and we’ll both stay here.”
“Nice try. The only way to be sure you’ll give me the right address is to have you drive me there. And keeping the woman here gives you a little incentive to follow directions. Stop right there.”
There were three quick thuds in succession. With superhuman effort Delaney strove to focus on the present, as the past threatened to drown her in a sea of terrifying memories. Blinking, she saw that bullets had been fired into one of the timber supports near one side of the mine, splintering it.
“All right, Youngblood. Back away from her and go pick up one of those fragments. One of them should work in the clasp.”
Delaney stared at the timber, but what she saw were twisted metal beams awash in plaster dust and portions of stone supports, bodies pinned beneath.
Desperately, she beat back the memories, focused on the man’s voice. If she concentrated on something other than the yawning pit of darkness waiting to swallow her up she could think of a way out of this.
She watched, transfixed, as Joe moved as if in slow motion. Her mind ping-ponged between a kernel of hope and utter despair. There was no way out. He bent, reached for the piece of wood. It was a miracle she’d lived the last time, and how many miracles did one person get in a lifetime?
She was aware he’d risen but her gaze had moved past him, just a yard or two to where the interior of the mine turned to inky shadows, as deep and impenetrable as a grave.
Her grave.
The hypnotizing darkness seemed to exhale, brushing her skin with its chilly breath. When it inhaled it’d suck her in, feeding on her panic like a vulture gorging on a carcass. And live or die, she’d be broken. Spirit, mind, body. So much easier to accept it. The specters of the past sounded like frigid whispers in her mind. Just walk into its frosty embrace and let it happen. I’m so tired of fighting. So tired.
Mesmerized, she took a step forward, eyes wide. There were images stamped on the darkness now, mental fragments that had lingered in her nightmares for two long years. Another step forward, and the past hurtled toward her with the power of an oncoming locomotive.
“Move it, Youngblood.”
The snap in the voice filtered through her trance and she stopped, looked around confusedly. And saw Joe staring fixedly at her, saw his lips moving.
She forced herself to look away. He couldn’t distract her now. Not from this. It was too important. Desperation and acceptance warred inside her. Muscles tensed. Time slowed.
And then she whirled, diving for the man with the gun.
“Sonofabitch!”
She’d lost track of him in the darkness. Instead of hitting him square, her body struck him in the thighs and he stumbled back, his legs tangled with hers as they both went sprawling to the ground. Delaney threw her weight onto his gun hand, felt pain explode as his free fist caught her in the face once, twice.
Then she was free of him with a suddenness that, along with the ringing in her ears, dizzied her. She rolled away, struggled to her knees. And saw Joe and Bruce entwined, rolling, exchanging blows. One clipped Joe in the chin and his head snapped back. But even as Bruce reached for the gun that had slipped his grasp, Joe drew back a clenched fist and plunged the sharp wood fragment he still held into the man’s eye.
The scream that bounced through the mine’s interior was an eerie echo from the past. The memories threatened to rush in, reaching for her with eager clutching fingers. But Delaney was moving, racing to retrieve the weapon.
She had an inkling of what Joe saw when he looked up then, a wild-eyed woman holding the automatic weapon in surprisingly steady hands. She recognized the concern in his expression. His grip on Bruce loosened, as he slowly, cautiously rose, keeping his gaze on her face as he held out his hand for the weapon.
There was a single terrifying moment when her mind replaced him with an apparition that lingered from the nightmare of her past. But an instant later her vision cleared and he was there again. Grim, competent and amazingly unhurt. Gingerly she handed the gun to him. An instant later his free arm reached out to haul her close, and a tidal wave of relief slammed into her, turning her bones to water.
“You did good, ’Laney,” he whispered as they watched the man writhing in pain on the ground. “You did real good.”
The blanket around her shoulders should have warmed her, but Delaney’s form continued to be racked with shudders. Her mind, though, was clear as she watched the police work the scene.
The place was swarming with law enforcement, and once she’d rejected the need for medical assistance, the ambulance had taken Bruce Glenn away and left her alone. In the bustle of the crime scene she was all but forgotten as she leaned against the fender of a police unit. Except for one man, who paused frequently to send a concerned glance her way.
The police units’ headlights had the area lit up like near dawn but she kept her gaze carefully away from the mine hulking in the background. She didn’t want to consider how easy it would have been to succumb to its chilly embrace.
The aftermath of the ordeal continued wreaking its private misery. The warmth of the blanket couldn’t quite chase the chill from her skin. Her heart refused to regain a normal beat and her stomach was a twisted mass of clenching nausea.
But she was still standing. She wasn’t sure she could do it without support, but she was on her feet. She’d faced her darkest fears, and she’d done it without the help of a bottle of Absolut. She’d celebrate her private victories in the tiny increments with which she achieved them.
She didn’t fool herself that there wouldn’t be further repercussions from this experience, but she did believe she’d weather them without reaching for that bottle on top of her cupboard. It wasn’t a drink she wanted right now, at any rate.
Joe detached himself from the group of officers and headed toward her. She noted his searching gaze, and thought he realized just how close she’d stepped to the abyss. For once the thought of allowing someone near enough to know her that well failed to terrify her.
“I’ve commandeered one of these rides. Are you ready to go home with me?”
She stared at him, her mind filled with a sort of clarity that had been missing for longer than she could remember. “Yes.” She pushed away from the car and walked toward him. “I think I’m ready.”