“It’s okay. Are you all from Montana?”
“No.” He searched for the right words. “We have relatives there, but we don’t know them well. The ranch is a safe place if you ever need safety.” No way could he go into deeper detail, even if the truth was believable, which it wouldn’t be.
“You live in the gray area—no black or white?” she asked softly, an odd sadness curving her bottom lip.
He drove into the hotel parking lot, wanting to soothe her but not sure how. While he couldn’t tell her everything, he could be honest with what he said. “I think that’s safe to say. Why? You don’t?”
“No,” she said. “My dad was a cop, a good one, and I’ve always walked the line.”
“Yeah, I figured that about you already.” He quickly rolled the SUV to a snowy stop. “Not all cops are good.” He knew that firsthand, unfortunately.
“Most are,” she countered.
Whoa. Talk about different lives and realities. Maybe it was fine that she believed right always won. He fucking knew better.
Enough with philosophy—they had a killer to catch.
Heath studied the bright pink doors against the solid white building. “Which room?”
“One-oh-three.”
He jumped out and scouted the nearly empty parking lot. The hotel was small but quaint looking. Raised voices from one room caught his attention. A man and woman fighting about somebody named Bonnie. “There’s an argument going on in room one-twelve. If it escalates, somebody might call the cops. Let’s hurry.”
She paused and looked toward the room. “I don’t hear anything.”
My senses are a little above average.” At her raised eyebrow, he smiled. “Okay, a lot beyond average.” It felt right to share a truth with her. But a sense of urgency took him by the throat. “We have five minutes. Let’s move.”
She gave him a look but hopped from the SUV and led the way to her room. He allowed her to unlock the door and then set her aside to enter first, quickly scanning the entire area. “Clear.”
Her snort showed she wasn’t taking the danger quite seriously yet.
He stepped inside and walked immediately to her notes and pictures spread all over the small table. His whistle filled the silence. “Where in the world did you get all of this data?” He turned to see her blushing a very pretty pink. Fascinated, he could just stare.
She shuffled her snow-covered boots. “I, ah, may have copied Loretta’s file right after she was taken and before Reese confiscated everything.”
Smart. Illegal, but smart. Talk about untold depths. “So much for right and wrong.”
Her lips firmed. “Catching this asshole is the right thing to do.”
He studied the woman. She’d set herself up for a serial killer to avenge her sister. While reckless, that was strong. That realization had the unfortunate effect of stirring his cock to life.Down, boy.“I’m fairly certain stealing FBI files is a felony, darlin’.”
She twisted her mouth and studied the wall. “Probably, though I didn’t actually steal anything. Just made copies. Since I’m working as a consultant on the case, it’s okay.”
Probably true. “Start packing.” His phone buzzed and he lifted it to his ear. “No lecture.”
“Just turn on the television,” Ryker said.
Heath moved for the battered set and twisted a knob to ignite the TV. It sizzled and then a picture formed of Anya talking to the reporters. He turned the channel. Same scene. “Damn it,” he murmured. The killer would certainly see it. Even on the crappy screen, Anya’s determination and dare came through bright and clear. “You’re on every channel.”
She stepped up next to him, her hands full of pictures and notes. “That was my plan.” Her voice shook, and her skin paled.
Her pallor concerned him. “That was very brave, darlin’.” He could give her kudos before he argued with her.
“I’m not brave.” Her sigh held pain and sadness. “I’m scared to death of this guy and definitely don’t want to end up alone in a room with him.”
That was the very definition of bravery. “You won’t.”
“Hey,” Ryker snapped from the phone.
