Nine were men. Six were kids. The remainder were women. A few were too old to fit the bill. A few were brunettes. One was on crutches, one in a wheelchair. Another, though, made Anderson narrow his eyes. The woman stood just outside of the main group, her shoulders slumped, a blanket draped over her head and squeezed at her chin.
Bingo.
He took one wide step toward the crowd. He started to take a second, then stopped short as a hand landed on his arm. Instinctively, he spun, raising his fist as he prepared to defend himself.
By the time Nadine lifted her face, Anderson’s balled-up fingers were already flying toward her face. She knew she should be pulling back or ducking—anything to protect herself from impact—but, instead, she panicked. She couldn’t even squeeze her eyes shut; she just froze, waiting for impact. But it didn’t come. His fist stopped just a hairbreadth from her cheek, so close that she could feel its warmth. It hung there for a long moment before it dropped down to close on her wrist. He pulled her back to the spot between the bush and the pillar and rounded on her.
“Nadine.” Her name was almost a growl. “What’re you doing?”
Her voice shook as she answered, “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
He dropped his arm and he exhaled. “Where were you?”
Nadine held out her bag. “I dropped this when you saved me from the car.”
“Well, I’m thrilled you’re acknowledging that I saved you. But I’m confused about why you thought it was a good idea to go grab the bag? Now?”
“I thought it would look suspicious just sitting there in the middle of the road.”
“You could’ve been caught by the cops. Or by—” He cut himself off and shook his head. “We should leave.”
But she wasn’t going to just let it go—not with the way her heart suddenly jumped in her chest. “Or by who?”
“No one. Let’s just go.”
“By who, Anderson?”
“Whoever’s after you, Nadine.” His hand, which she just realized still clasped her wrist, gave her a little tug. “Let’s talk about it in the car. I’m parked one street over and it’ll only take a second to get there.”
She dug her heels in stubbornly. “Did you see someone? Garibaldi?”
“I didn’t.”
“But someone else did?”
“A doctor saw you. Counted you in with the rest of the patients.”
“That’s bad?”
“Not specifically. But it means anyone could’ve seen you. C’mon.” He dragged his fingers down, threading them through hers.
Heat jumped from the points where their skin met, startling her enough that she didn’t resist when he pulled her along this time. Her hand even tightened on his as they slipped out of their hiding place. And she couldn’t make it loosen. Thankfully, Anderson didn’t notice. Or at least didn’t comment as he led her away from the hospital.
“Why were you going back down in the crowd by the care center?” Nadine asked, trying to distract herself from how natural and reassuring it felt to be holding his hand. “The cops were already there.”
“Because I was looking for you.”
“But I was meeting you by the bushes.”
“You were supposed to wait by the bushes,” Anderson corrected.
“Didn’t you think I’d come b—” She cut herself off as she clued in. “You thought I ran off on you.”
“Is it much of a stretch?”
Nadine felt an odd warmth creep up her cheeks, and she silently scolded herself for blushing.
Aloud she said, “I told you I would stay.”
She could swear Anderson was eyeing the pink in her face as he lifted an eyebrow her way. “Pretty sure you gave your doctor the same impression before sneaking off in the dead of night.”
“Ha-ha.”
He stopped in front of a midsize pickup truck, and when he freed his fingers from Nadine’s to grab his keys from his pocket, she immediately experienced a pang at the loss of contact. It was accompanied by an urge to reach out and grab his hand again. She actually had to fight to shake off the need to do it, and she was suddenly glad that her cheeks were already heated. At least it provided a good cover for the new embarrassment tickling at her now. And the embarrassment only intensified as Anderson took a chivalrous moment to open the passenger-side door for her before he moved to get in himself.
“You don’t have to do stuff like that,” she said.
Anderson frowned as he turned the key in the ignition. “Like what?”
“Opening the door.”
“You don’t want me to be polite?”
“You can be polite without being so nice.”
He pulled the truck out onto the road. “You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”
Nadine sighed. “I know you’d rather be working the case. You just told me as much a few minutes ago.”
“I am working the case. You’re my connection to Jesse Garibaldi.”
For some reason, the statement pricked at her. “You know what I mean.”
“No,” he said, “I’m not sure I do.”
“You don’t have to pretend that I’m not an inconvenience by being thoughtful.”
“Did it ever occur to you that I might just be thoughtful?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Why would you be thoughtful toward me? I’m disrupting your investigation.”
“You don’t think all people need thoughtfulness, you know...just because?”
“That’s not what—Ugh.”
“Ugh?” His mouth twitched.
“I’m not saying this because I don’t think people deserve respect in a general sense.”
His tiny smile slipped away completely. “You think that you don’t deserve respect?”
“No. I mean yes. Of course I deserve respect.”
“Just not from me?”
She couldn’t help but glare at him. “You are seriously a pain in the—”
“Hold on. I thought I was too nice.”
“Now you’re getting it.”
His mouth quirked up again. “I’ll work on that.”
Fighting a huff—she already felt enough like a petulant teenager—Nadine