“You probably don’t think anyone would want to kill you, either.” He took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest.
“How do I know that Therese wasn’t being forced to tell me to go with you?”
“I guess you don’t. Neither do I. But one thing in our favor is that I’m not forcing you to stay. You aren’t tied up or anything.”
She needed to test that challenge. Could she get up? Get closer to the back door? What would he do?
Even though the house was sparsely decorated, the photographs on the wall really stood out and called to her. She stood and swayed toward one near her—an action picture of a retriever flying into a pond. Water droplets were caught forever hanging in midair.
“That was Birdie. I took that picture when I was in college. She was a great retriever.”
“It’s exceptional. So alive.” Megan looked for signs of a dog. “Is she around?”
“Naw, she died a few years back.” He shoved his fingers through his hair before settling his arms in front of his chest again. And he stayed where he was, not making a move to stop her from wandering.
Even if she was stumbling and leaning on the backs of chairs.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Her head really wanted to check out that aspirin bottle.
“She was a great dog.” He shrugged.
“What did you say your name was?”
“Jack MacKinnon. I’m a Tex—”
“Jack, um...what did you do with my stuff? My laptop? Phone? I don’t see my carry-on.”
“You left it by the gate. Sorry, but there wasn’t time to explain to airport security. Your phone and laptop are still in the truck. Safe for tonight.”
“What if someone sees it and breaks in? Isn’t that risky?”
“Not too many break-ins around here. Everybody knows me and that I’m home this week. Your stuff is safe.”
She shifted to another chair, closer to her goal. “You really don’t know what all this is about?” she asked.
He shook his head, and she believed him. It was her job to know when someone was lying or telling the truth. Jack seemed to be completely at ease telling her everything—or as little as—he knew.
“I really need to call Therese and find out what this is all about.” She needed to know why she needed protecting. She didn’t doubt that she could handle herself when put to the test. But what test?
Oh, yeah, sure.
“I tried your friend. Tried my partner. Voice mail. You’re safe and need some rest, so how ’bout we try again in the morning?”
Scolding herself was nothing new. Being in a life-threatening position wasn’t, either. Shoot, being alone with arrogant men who thought they knew more than her was something she’d dealt with since joining the police academy. The State Fire Marshal’s Office wasn’t much better.
The strange new sensation was that she could trust this man. Weird. She rarely trusted anyone. Getting her feet to even slide was beginning to be a chore. So maybe she could wait until her legs were more stable and could make it out to his truck. Then she’d find out what was going on for herself.
He pushed his hands through his tangled short mop, smoothing and looping some of it behind his ears. “I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I’m not sure what I have in the fridge. You feel like eating? Need another bottle of water?”
“No. Thanks. Look, all I need is a couch for the night and I’ll be out of your hair tomorrow.”
“Why don’t we talk about that in the morning?” He reached forward, and they touched with an electric shock.
Not the kind she’d felt wrapped in his arms. It was a sincere static-electricity pop that had them both waving their hands in pain.
Megan looked between the blinds and saw a couple of porch lights. “Ouch, you pack a wallop.” The houses were far apart and she wasn’t certain the road—that was at least forty yards away—was even a public street. An older neighborhood in a small town? “Maybe I should call a cab to take me home.”
“You could try, but I doubt you’d get one to come here.”
“Where did you bring me?”
“We’re outside Liberty Hill. It’s about forty-five minutes from Austin.”
Doubt was back. No matter how much confidence she had in Therese, shouldn’t she be more upset about being alone with this guy?
Maybe it was the remnants of the drug still in her system. She couldn’t tell or keep her thoughts straight. Why had she allowed herself to be brought here by a stranger in the first place? What had Therese meant? Not having answers was more likely to kill her than a stranger at the airport.
“This is ridiculous.”
“What do you mean?” Jack asked, resting one hand in a pocket and the other at the back of his head.
“I need a phone, please.” She held out her hand, expecting him to accommodate her. Why wouldn’t he? “May I borrow yours or will you get mine from your truck?”
“No. Tomorrow.” Jack clapped his hands together and then opened them, palms up. He stood at attention, ready for something. “Our instructions are that they’ll contact us tomorrow.”
“I am not a helpless victim from a slasher movie. I’m not staying here.”
“Come on, Megan. If you need someplace safe to stay, we’ve done everything right. Why mess it up with a phone call to friends?”
He relaxed, shrugged and took a step away from her. Did he expect her to attack or something? She might have if she hadn’t still been sluggish.
“Right.” She sank to the couch, finally admitting she was too unstable on her feet. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but this situation is absurd and confusing.”
“I get it. Your friend Therese was more than a little cryptic.” He perched on the armchair. “All I got was that you were in trouble and needed protection.”
“I appreciate your willingness to help. Really. But if I am in trouble like Therese thinks, then my best bet is to call the police. I can’t put you in danger, too.”
She was used to being around officers and macho firefighters. She’d taken a lot of years to study guys, their psychology, their body language. And Jack didn’t appear to be surprised by their situation. Or surprised that she was in trouble. If she had to make a guess, he probably had a gun holster under the back of his shirt.
“I’m not worried about it.” He lifted his hands in mock surrender. Mock because it was apparent there wasn’t a cell in his being that would make him change his mind. “I gave my word, okay? If you can clear things up, fine. But you can’t have a phone until the morning.”
Even without her knowing him, there was something about the way he held his mouth that convinced her he was serious. Compressed lips with the corner barely raised. Serious or sure of himself?
Jack MacKinnon was as stubborn as she was.
“Why are you doing this? What’s in it for you?”
“What do I get? Not a thing. Call