“I guess.” She turned to stare blindly out the passenger-side window, wondering when Agent Callahan, er—Marc—would find a place to stop. The aftermath of adrenaline left her feeling shaky and weak. Exhausted.
Of course her fatigue could just as easily be related to her condition.
He fell silent again, maybe brooding about the case. A few minutes later, he exited the freeway. He waited for the light to turn green before heading down to a parking lot located in front of a small single-story motel. No fancy names here, just Ravenswood Motel located in the nondescript and unincorporated town of Ravenswood.
When he pulled up in front of the lobby, he turned off the car and took the keys out of the ignition. “I need you to wait here.”
She sighed. “Not like I have much choice considering my ankle is swollen and hurts like crazy.”
He barely looked at her. “If it’s just a sprain, I’d rather not risk taking you to an emergency department.”
Yeah, she wasn’t really keen on that idea, either. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
He gave a terse nod, then pushed open his door and slid out from behind the wheel. The moment he disappeared inside, she was nearly overwhelmed by a wave of loneliness.
Ridiculous, because she wasn’t alone. Marc was here with her. But the sense of camaraderie she’d experienced earlier seemed to have vanished.
Where was the nice, chivalrous guy who’d carried her to the car so she wouldn’t have to walk on her bum ankle? The man who’d tossed out his own cell phone as a way to keep her safe?
She blew out a breath, realizing that his changed attitude was likely because she was pregnant and not married. From the moment she’d discovered she was expecting, she’d run into some of the same judgmental sneers, especially from the older generation.
Not that she was proud of the fact she’d given in to temptation. At the time she’d justified her actions by the fact that she and Vince were engaged to be married in a few short months. They were in love, or so she’d thought.
Until he’d disappeared without a trace, leaving her high and dry. And pregnant.
Shame tasted bitter on her tongue, but she refused to let it get to her. Her baby was a precious gift, one she was determined to cherish, no matter what.
Ironically, the place she’d found solace and acceptance had been in her friend Amy’s church. The people there had been wonderful, including the pastor. Someday, soon, she’d have her baby baptized there.
Something to look forward to.
The thought of raising her baby alone was both thrilling and terrifying. She wished her mother were still alive to offer some advice. Especially since her own father, much like Vince, had disappeared, leaving her mother and her to survive on their own.
Despite being abandoned, her mother had always maintained a sunny outlook on life, while providing a loving, stable home environment for Kari. Not that things had been easy, because they hadn’t. Still, she couldn’t complain. In fact, she hoped and prayed she’d find a way to do the same with her own baby.
Marc returned to the car, interrupting her thoughts with his intimidating presence, even as he wordlessly slid behind the wheel. He drove the short distance to park in front of room number seven. He climbed out again, then came around to open her passenger-side door. “Ready?”
“Of course.” She summoned the strength to swing her legs around, wincing when she placed pressure on her left ankle. Marc surprised her by holding out his arm. “Lean on me.”
The radiating pain shooting through her foot didn’t give her much choice. She braced herself on his arm and hobbled the few steps it took to reach the door. Then she rested against the wall of the building, waiting for him to use the motel key card to open the door.
He held out his hand again, so she leaned against him, making her way inside. By the time she collapsed on the bed, her ankle felt as if it might explode. She closed her eyes, fighting a sense of helplessness.
Not being able to walk made her dependent on Marc for more than just keeping her safe.
Her eyelids sprang open in surprise when he lifted her swollen ankle up off the mattress. “What are you doing?”
“You need to keep this elevated on pillows,” he said calmly, untying her shoe and stuffing two pillows beneath her calf and heel. He gently probed the skin around her ankle, emitting a low whistle from under his breath. “This looks worse than I expected.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. He disappeared into the bathroom, ran water and then returned with an icy cold towel, which he wrapped tightly around her ankle. She had to admit the coolness against her swollen joint offered a bit of relief.
“I’ll get some ice.” He grabbed the plastic bucket off the small table and disappeared again, the door of the motel room closing loudly behind him.
She let out her pent-up breath in a heavy sigh. Was it normal for FBI agents to blow hot and cold so quickly? One minute he’s scowling and brooding, the next he’s fetching ice for her ankle.
Men. Who could figure them out? Vince had already fooled her once; she refused to be gullible again.
She placed a protective hand over her abdomen. She’d dreamed of having a large family, a future Vince had conned her into believing he wanted, as well. Unfortunately, it wasn’t meant to be.
She was facing her future, alone.
Please, Lord, give me strength.
The door opened a few minutes later and Marc walked in, bringing the familiar sandalwood scent with him. She didn’t want to be so aware of him, but she was. He wrapped some crushed ice in a towel and then pressed it against her ankle.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. “We need to talk.”
What she really needed was sleep, but she turned her head to look at him. “Okay.”
“Where’s your baby’s father?”
Huh? She frowned, wondering why it mattered. “I have no clue. I haven’t seen him in a long time.”
His green eyes were skeptical. “Are you sure? He’s probably worried about you. Give me his name and contact information. I’ll find a way to keep him informed.”
She stifled a sigh. “Vince left me three months ago. He doesn’t even know I’m pregnant.”
He lifted a surprised brow. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, Vince what?” Marc picked up the motel pen and notepad.
“Ackerman. Vince Ackerman.” She rattled off the last phone number she had for him. “You can try to call, but trust me, the line has been disconnected. I honestly don’t have any idea where he is.”
“I believe you.” His tone was considerate, but that didn’t stop him from writing Vince’s name and number on the sheet of paper. “Did Detective Monique Barclay do a background check on him?”
She shrugged. “I have no idea.” She wasn’t sure why anyone cared about Vince. It wasn’t as if he was involved in the bank robberies.
“Try to get some rest, okay?”
“Sure.” Easier said than done with the way her ankle throbbed.
“I’ll be in the connecting room right next door.” He rose to his feet, then hesitated, staring at the motel phone that sat on the bedside table beside her.
Her stomach clenched. Was it possible that he still didn’t trust her? She half expected him to disconnect the phone from the wall, but then he walked past the device toward