He kept his eyes on the road, still navigating in total darkness. “It’s no good to me now. They won’t be able to do anything with it, either. It’s untraceable. Unlike this Jeep. We’ll have to ditch it.”
“Ditch it?” Willow gaped at him. “It’s the only car I have.”
“Are the plates registered to you or someone else?”
“Me.”
“Then it has to go. The sooner the better.” He drove faster, pushing the vehicle to its limits on the steep upward climbs of the pass. “Where do you live, Willow?”
She gestured vaguely behind them. “About twenty miles back the way we came, in the next town over.”
“So, you weren’t living here in town?”
“No. Laurel didn’t think it was safe for us to live that close to each other. She didn’t want anyone recognizing me when I came and went from the cabin.”
“Did anyone in town know her?”
“No, she made sure of that. She never left the cabin, not for any reason. When she needed groceries and supplies, I brought them to her.”
Razor made a noise in the back of his throat, but didn’t comment. “What about you? Is there someone at home waiting for you to come back?”
Willow shook her head. There hadn’t been anyone in a long time, not even a pet. Laurel was all she had. Now, she was gone too.
“What about a boyfriend?” Razor pressed. “An employer or coworker? Anyone to worry if they can’t reach you? Someone who might reach out to law enforcement or be able to tell them anything about you or your sister?”
“No. I make pottery, so I work for myself. As for the rest of it, also no. There’s no one waiting for me at home.”
“Good,” he said. “You can’t go back there now. It won’t be safe.”
“For how long?”
Finally, he glanced at her. She almost wished he hadn’t, because the look in his grim stare seemed to say that she wasn’t going to like his answer. “Not until it’s safe.”
She frowned. “I can’t just leave my home because you say so.”
“You prefer the alternative? How many witnesses do you think there were who saw us talking on the pass? How long do you think it’ll take the police before they show up on your doorstep? A couple of hours? A day? For fuck’s sake, they could be there waiting for you right now.”
“How is that my problem? You’re the one who killed two cops back there, not me.”
He looked at her again, his dark stare locked on her now. Tiny sparks seemed to smolder in his irises. “I told you, they were dirty. I heard them talking about setting the fire. They killed your sister, Willow. I don’t know why, but I mean to find out. Those two cops would have killed you too, if I’d given them the chance.”
The starkness of that realization hit her hard, bringing a surge of emotion into her throat, but she pushed it aside. Later, she’d have time to dissolve into a puddle of grief and terror over everything that happened today. First, she needed to make this Breed male understand that she couldn’t go anywhere with him. She wouldn’t.
Not when she had her promise to Laurel ringing in her ears like an alarm bell.
“So, we’ll go to the station and explain what happened down on the pass. We can bring the police to the cabin, show them my sister’s grave. They’ll surely have to help us get answers, but not if we run.”
“I don’t know how far the conspiracy goes, Willow. For all I know, there were more people involved in your sister’s murder. I’m willing to bet there’s something bigger going on here, but I’m not going to risk your life in order to find out. Those two thought you were Laurel. Someone else might think so too. Which means you’ve got a target on your back now. Until I know for sure who’s aiming it, I trust no one. And I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
Willow sagged back against the seat. As much as she wanted to refuse to accept everything that was happening—including everything Razor was saying—deep down, she feared he was right. All of Laurel’s paranoias and strange behaviors since her arrival several months ago replayed in her mind like a movie she’d only been able to watch in a foreign language until now, when Laurel’s vicious murder had suddenly made things clear.
Not everything, though.
Willow had more questions than answers. Apparently, so did Razor.
Like it or not, trust him or not, they were in this together.
She glanced at the charred pendant in her hand, wishing she’d pushed Laurel to explain the full story about why she’d gone into hiding in Colorado. What was she so afraid of? What had been so awful that her sister refused to speak about it? What did any of it have to do with the small key Willow wore on her own necklace?
