I hesitate, then give him the truth, or at least part of it. "Until I find a decent place to stay for the night.”
His jaw tightens, just a fraction.
"This area doesn't have much," he says. "There's a small motel about fifteen minutes down the mountain. If you keep going straight, you won't miss it."
I nod. "Okay."
He steps back, then pauses. "Ms. Clark?"
"Yes?"
"Take it easy on the road. And if you have any trouble, you can flag down a patrol or call the station."
I meet his gaze, something warm settling in my chest that I don't expect.
"Thank you, Officer Kavanaugh."
His mouth curves, just barely. "Drive safe."
As he walks back to his cruiser, I let out a long, shaky breath.
I wasn't arrested.
I sit there for another moment, hands still gripping the wheel, watching in my side mirror as his taillights disappear around the bend. The adrenaline that's been flooding my system begins to ebb, leaving me hollow and shaking.
But something else lingers too. The memory of gray eyes that saw too much. A voice that asked if I was okay like he actually gave a shit. The way he could have made this so much worse and chose not to.
I put the car in drive and ease back onto the road, forcing myself to stay under the speed limit this time. Fifteen minutes to a motel. Fifteen minutes to figure out what comes next.
As the road winds down the mountain, I catch myself glancing in the rearview mirror one more time.
Officer Kavanaugh is long gone.
But he’s reminded me that good men do exist in the world.
Well, one does.
Chapter 2
Ross
AsIdriveawayfrom the traffic stop, my first thought is that letting her out of my sight is a mistake.
Not because I think she’s a criminal. She clearly isn’t. But my instincts tell me she may be in trouble.
And the thought of Ashley Clark being in any sort of trouble twists my guts into a knot.
I’m tempted to turn the car around and follow her, but I resist the urge. I’ve done my job. I should leave it at that. But as the radio crackles with low chatter, my attention keeps drifting to the image of her packed car and the way she looked like she was holding herself together by sheer will.
People who are fine don't grip the steering wheel like that. They don't blurt out that they're not carrying anything illegal when no one's accused them of it.
I drive toward town, keeping my speed steady. The mountain is quiet tonight, the way it gets when the sun drops and the day hikers are long gone. This stretch of road is my responsibility. Iknow every curve, every blind spot, every place someone might think they could disappear.
Ashley Clark looked like she was trying to do exactly that.
I run her name through my head again. Clean license. No warrants. No flags. Nothing that would justify holding her longer than I did.
Still, instinct nags.
