He shook his head. “It’s not a good location.”
She closed her eyes. This was too real. Someone—probably Richard Prentice—wanted her dead.
“I’ll feel better when we get out of the open,” he said. “Someone will probably come along soon to see if we crashed—to make sure we’re dead.”
She swallowed hard. “Can we talk about something else, please?”
He didn’t take his gaze from the horizon. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“I had six older sisters.”
“Big family.” She envied him. Sophie was the only family she had. “Do you see them often?”
“Not really. They live in California.” He fell silent for a moment, then added, “Only four of them are still alive.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“One sister died of an overdose. The other disappeared. We don’t know what happened to her.”
And here she’d thought she was the only one with troubles. “That must be hard,” she said. Not the innocuous conversation she’d hoped for.
“It is what it is.” He straightened. “Here’s our ride.”
A Cruiser identical to the one Marco usually drove made a U-turn and pulled in behind Lauren’s disabled car. Montrose County sheriff’s deputy Lance Carpenter, the local representative on the task force, left the vehicle running as he stepped out of the driver’s seat and pushed his Stetson back on his head. “Trying out for the demolition derby?” he asked.
“Very funny.” Marco shoved the car keys into Lance’s hands. “Give these to the wrecker driver—and make sure nobody touches anything around the brakes until the techs have gone over it.” He took Lauren’s hand and pulled her toward the Cruiser.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Lance asked.
“I need to get Lauren out of here before whoever cut those brake lines shows up to admire the results of his handiwork.”
“What am I supposed to do?” Lance asked.
“Wait here for the wrecker driver.”
“Should we have left him?” Lauren asked as Marco gunned the engine and they headed toward the park.
“The wrecker will be there any minute now, and I wasn’t comfortable with you standing around out in the open.”
“The idea that I have a target on my back doesn’t seem real to me.”
“The trick is to balance the awareness of danger with the need to keep from panicking.” He glanced at her. “Not easy, I know.”
“I think I’m glad I got the extra meds.”
“I want to stop by headquarters and talk to the captain, then we’ll get you settled at my place.”
“I left my bag in the car.”
“Lance will bring it.”
“You seem pretty sure of that. Do you Rangers communicate via ESP or secret code or something?”
“He’s got my back.” He glanced at her. “Now you’re with me, so he’s got your back, too.”
His words—and the certainty with which he spoke them, sent a different kind of heat curling through her—part old-fashioned lust and part the unfamiliar warmth of acceptance. Her disease had separated her from others for so long. How ironic that a threat to her life had involved her with a community of friends again.
Half a dozen Cruisers filled the spaces in front of the task force headquarters building. “Something’s up.” Marco parked along the side of the road and was out of the vehicle before Lauren had even unbuckled her seat belt.
She hurried after him, running to keep up. Inside the building, uniformed officers crowded the small, low-ceilinged rooms. “What’s going on?” Marco asked.
“You’ll find out as soon as everyone’s here.”
The captain retreated to his office, shutting the door behind him.
“Any idea what this is about?” Lieutenant Michael Dance, Abby’s boyfriend, asked.
Everyone shook their heads. “All I know is, the captain has been on the phone most of the morning,” Carmen Redhorse, an officer with the Colorado Bureau of Investigations, said. “Whatever this is about, he’s not happy.”
Twenty minutes later, Graham finally emerged from his office and surveyed the room full of officers. “Where’s Lance?”
“I’m here.” Lauren looked over her shoulder to see the deputy in the doorway. He made his way over to them and handed Lauren her overnight bag, then gave Marco a slip of paper. “The car’s on its way to the impound lot.”
“Did you take a look at the brake lines?” Marco asked.
“Yeah. They look cut to me, but we’ll know more when the techs are done.”
“If I could have your attention.” Graham stood at the front of the room and held up one hand. A hush settled over the crowd. Lauren clenched her hands into fists and fought to keep still; the tension was contagious.
The captain cleared his throat. “The grand jury has failed to indict Richard Prentice of any of the charges against him,” he said.
Chapter Four (#ulink_ae878bf0-53a8-5449-9329-41a60f4b13a4)
Lauren blinked, sure she had heard the captain wrong. He must mean the grand jury had indicted Richard Prentice, right? She turned to Marco, his face the stone mask of an Aztec warrior. “What’s happening?” she asked.
“Somehow, Prentice managed to get off,” he said.
“I don’t understand,” she said, still dazed. “He kidnapped me. He held me prisoner. You saw where he was keeping me.”
“We saw.” Rand’s expression was as grim as everyone else’s. Even Lotte, who stood by his side, looked upset. “We know you’re telling the truth, not just about the kidnapping, but about the other crimes he’s involved in.”
“At least you believe me,” Lauren said. “The jury obviously didn’t. They believed Richard when he said I was making everything up.”
“Maybe it wasn’t you,” Marco said. “Maybe it was something else.”
“They didn’t believe me because they think I’m crazy,” she said. “I’m mentally ill, so of course I must be a liar, too. I made the whole thing up. It was a wild fantasy I concocted just to get attention.” Online columnists and bloggers had already wasted plenty of bandwidth speculating on the reasons for Lauren’s “obsession” with the billionaire. Because of course, why would he ever be obsessed with her? Sure, she was pretty, they said. But she had a history of wild behavior. So of course, her side of the story couldn’t be trusted.