Settling into the passenger seat, the feel of the heat on her face warmed her body on the outside. The inside warmth was for a completely different reason. She noticed he slowed at the end of the driveway where the SUV had turned. The sight of a small boy helping his dad with a bag and a woman with a toddler on her hip seemed to ease some tension from Cain’s face.
A good five minutes passed with them riding in silence. Even in the darkness of late dusk, he seemed to continually be scouring the surroundings. Once they reached the main highway around the lake, he kept his eyes on the road ahead for the most part. Years of being part of a law enforcement family had trained her to stay alert when something felt off.
“JB’s going to stop by my house about eight or so tonight,” Cain said. “He’ll bring us up to speed on any of their findings.”
“Sounds good.”
He tapped the top of the steering wheel. “Oh, that reminds me. He said to tell you Marcy had called about an hour ago. She’d already got word on what’s going on.”
“How’d she know?”
“Evidently, she and Joanie keep each other informed on Crayton happenings.” He crossed his fingers. “Sounds like they’re a bonded pair.”
“We all three are.” Betsy laughed. “I should have known there’d be no keeping this a secret.”
He pulled into the parking lot of a small hometown-homemade food diner halfway to his house in Crayton. “Will this do for dinner?”
“Love their food.” The moment he turned off the truck, she undid her seatbelt. “I’m starving.”
Reaching out, he placed his hand on hers. “One more thing before we go inside.”
“Okay.” She glanced in his direction. Saw seriousness in his expression, maybe a touch of sadness in his eyes. She turned sideways to face him.
After sighing, he palmed his hand down his face, then turned to face her, too. “The woman in the photo is named Cassandra, but we all call her Cassie. She’s a DEA agent. Used to work undercover. That photo is from when we were paired up as a couple on a drug dealer job.”
He paused. Swallowed. Watched a group of people walking into the restaurant. She’d noticed he laid his gun in the truck’s center console when they’d gotten in back at the lake. She also noticed he always moved his hand in that direction if people headed anywhere close to them.
“After a few months I got pegged as a Fed. By then, DEA had already pulled Cassie out of the job, but the bastards tracked her down. Shot her up with drugs and circulated photos to draw me in. They figured I’d come to find her. And I did. They gave me the same treatment, along with what they referred to as old-fashioned fisticuffs. Hell, it was fight club on steroids.” He leaned his head against the driver’s side window for a while.
Betsy noticed he’d fisted one hand on top of the console, the other around the steering wheel. Her own insides were pumping with adrenaline, with fear for him, for Cassie. She could only imagine the fear they’d been feeling.
She covered his hand with hers. “I’m sorry.”
Straightening in his seat, he shook his head. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry even telling you this.”
“Go on, Cain. We don’t need secrets between us.”
He didn’t move to get out of the truck. “Finally, we heard a police siren moving closer to where they were holding us. Louder and louder. Then more sirens joined the fray, and the thugs got the hell out of there. Assuming we were done for, they left us where we lay. We heard the sirens split, as if each was following escaping members.
“Somehow Cassie and I crawled our way out of the building and into the concrete jungle of abandoned warehouses and overgrown weeds and bushes and trash. Wasn’t a pretty escape, but we got it done. An hour or so later, we emerged in a residential alleyway, and a man taking his trash out called the police for us on his cell phone. Even had us stay out of sight behind his shed. Waiting there for the police to arrive was one of the longest five minutes of my life.”
Betsy nodded. She’d had some of those long five minutes in her lifetime, too. “What happened to Cassie?”
“She recovered. Still works for the DEA, but she never worked undercover or active assignments again. She’s a desk jockey and loves it.” He paused, opened his door and jumped out of the truck, and they met in front of the hood. “Got two little boys. They call me Uncle Dude.”
She laughed and lightly punched him in the bicep. “I can see that… Uncle Dude with the blue eyes.”
Curling his fingers into hers, they shared a moment. He gave her a small kiss, which she gladly returned.
“I’m glad you made it out alive,” she said, tightening her fingers around his as they walked to the diner entrance.
“Me, too.” Opening the door, he bent in her direction. “By the way, you can have my blue eyes any time you want. But the whole Uncle Dude thing ends now. Because?—
“—you’re definitely not my Uncle Dude.” She winked, and shoulder bumped him. “Now let’s get some dinner. I’m hungry.”
“Well, thank goodness you’re not hangry.”
It had been a long time since she’d felt comfortable and happy going out to dinner with a man, and for a second that was what this felt like. Dinner and a date.
