Shades of Truth. Sandra Orchard
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dropped it when the shot rang out.
Ethan’s silencing glare swept over her a second time.
“Why are you in the neighborhood?” the officer asked as he recorded the license information.
Ethan motioned to the row of duplexes. “I moved into 103, second floor apartment, on Saturday. Haven’t had time to change my license yet.”
“And the woman?”
“Kim Corbett.”
“Relationship?”
“A friend,” Ethan said, with a lilt that implied something more.
Kim’s heart gave a funny kick.
“She hurt her ankle,” Ethan explained. “I’m taking her to have it checked.”
The officer wrote down everything Ethan said, and then looked at her. “Address?”
“Two-thirteen Maple Crescent.”
His attention zeroed in on Ethan again. “Do you have any weapons in the vehicle?”
“No, sir.”
The officer opened Ethan’s door. “Could you step out of the car, please?”
Ethan turned off the ignition, his expression pained. “It’s okay,” he said to her before climbing out, but suddenly every warning her brother had ever voiced about her being too trusting screamed through her head.
She’d known this man less than twelve hours—twelve hours in which she’d been threatened twice. He lived in a seedy neighborhood and maybe carried a gun. And she’d just let him convince her to leave the scene of a crime!
If he was really an ex-cop like he said, why didn’t he tell this guy? Play up the professional courtesy card?
Or was that why he was playing it by the book, not making waves?
Too trusting! The voice in her head screamed.
The officer patted Ethan down, glanced at the interior of the car and then said, “Do you mind if I look in your trunk?”
“Not at all. I’ve got nothing to hide,” Ethan said easily, although Kim thought she glimpsed the muscle in his jaw flinch.
The officer riffled through the trunk, and then handed Ethan back his license and registration. “Thank you, sir. Have a good day.”
Kim closed her eyes and let the air seep from her chest. He didn’t have a gun. That was good, at least.
Ethan climbed in the car. “What were you saying about your phone?”
“I dropped it in the street.” She lowered her voice. “When I heard the shot.”
“Okay, we’ll go back and find it.” He rolled down the window again. “Officer, my friend dropped her phone. I need to turn around for a minute and see if we can find it.”
“Go ahead.” The officer backed up a few steps so Ethan had room to turn on the narrow street.
Kim pointed to a pothole a few yards past the factory’s entrance. “I stumbled up there.”
Ethan parked, then scouted the area in ever-widening sweeps. After what felt like hours, he returned, frowning. “I’m sorry. There’s no sign of it.”
Her throat went dry. She felt like gagging, and it wasn’t from the sickly scent of gumdrops. “If those punks picked it up, they’ll know my friends’ numbers, my home number. With reverse lookup, they’ll figure out my address.” If they were brazen enough to chase her in broad daylight, who knew what they’d try under the cover of darkness?
Ethan slanted her a sideways look as he slid into the car beside her. “Why are you worried they’d come after you again?”
Her heart skipped as she realized that from his perspective there was no logical reason why they would. Why would they risk getting caught after they’d already gotten away?
She tried for a self-deprecating smile that felt weak even to her. “I guess because Dad drilled into our heads the importance of keeping our private information private. Residents will use anything as leverage to manipulate us.”
He regarded her steadily, intelligence shining out of his chocolate-colored eyes, and she shifted on her seat. “Is that the only reason?”
Blake’s ultimatum to her brother—I go down, you go down—flashed through her mind. She needed to talk to Darryl, find out why he thought Blake had targeted her. Find out if he’d snuck back and shot him.
No, she couldn’t ask him that. He’d be horrified that she’d think him capable. And she sure couldn’t confide in Ethan that particular fear.
His fingers brushed past her cheek and gently pulled a leaf from her hair. “Kim, I want to help you. But unless you level with me, I may not be able to protect you.”
She straightened. “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”
Ethan arched his eyebrow.
“Okay, today was an exception. But nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”
He started the car and nodded at the officer as they passed. “Skulk around in neighborhoods like this one and you’re asking for trouble.”
“That from a man who lives here,” she said wryly.
“That from a man who doesn’t want to see you hurt.” His words burrowed into her wounded heart and nestled there. She recalled his stricken expression when he’d knelt over her in the ditch. He’d feared the worst, and something told her he’d seen the worst before. And that the experience still haunted him. He looked at her now with a mixture of frustration and disappointment.
She dropped her gaze, fiddled with her shoelaces. “Take the next left to get to my street,” she said, loosening the laces pinching her swollen foot. She tried not to wince at the way it throbbed.
Ethan jerked the steering wheel right.
“Where are you going? I said turn left.”
“Not anywhere you’re going to be happy about.”
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