can’t come up with any place better until I get clued in. Until I know what direction we’re running away from, I can’t really figure out where we’ll be safe. Which means it’s time for you to level with me, darlin’.”
Annabelle squared her shoulders and let out a deep breath. It wouldn't be easy, and he might not like her by the time she finished, but it was unavoidable.
“You’re right. And I guess I have to start by apologizing.”
Mark undid his seatbelt and turned to face her. “I think the only conversation starter worse is ‘we have to talk’. Go on—you might as well dive right in.”
“I’m not a travel writer. I work for Hidden Story —the TV news magazine—as an investigative reporter.” She paused, but when Mark said nothing, she continued. “I came to Charleston on a story. I didn’t think I was making much headway until I realized someone was following me.”
Mark shook his head. “Not good enough. You were scared out there on the beach. Sure, you were unflappable, professional and great in a crisis, but I could tell you were scared down to the bone. This isn’t just any story, is it?”
She looked down at her lap. It was easier if she didn’t meet his gaze. “Officially—and by that I mean according to your less than helpful Charleston P.D.—it’s nothing more than two unconnected missing persons. Unofficially, considering the timing and the fact I’m now being followed, there’s a good chance it involves murder.” Annabelle’s breath caught on the word. She couldn’t personalize, not now. It couldn’t be about Vanessa, because if it was, she might curl into a ball and start crying. And falling apart wouldn’t help at all.
Mark grabbed her chin and turned her to face him.
“You’re telling me there may be people out there right now trying to kill you, and the only protection we have is the fact we’re parked at the town dump? When were you planning on spilling the beans? After the first bullet slammed through our picnic basket?”
“Look, you have every right to be upset, but I didn’t say I knew anyone was trying to kill me. At least, not right now.”
“Squabbling over semantics isn’t going to improve my mood one bit. As a matter of fact, the only thing that would make me feel better is if you spell out for me, nice and slow, every single thing there is to know about our current situation. And just to play it safe, go ahead and treat me like the dumb, good old boy you think I am. I want to be sure I don’t get confused somewhere in the middle.”
Annabelle gaped at him. “I don’t know where you got the impression I think you’re—” She broke off at the fury smoldering in his black eyes. “Fine. I’ll start from the beginning.” Speaking quickly and concisely, she laid out the whole story. He didn’t interrupt or ask questions, but let her get it all out. She was compelled to finish with another apology.
“You see, I barely had a trail to follow until today. The last thing I wanted to do was involve you, let alone put you in danger. I can look out for myself.”
“Annabelle, scoot on over here.” He motioned with his head as if staring at something through the window. Curious, she angled her body towards the steering wheel.
In a lightning-fast move, Mark put her in a head lock with his left arm, dragging her over the emergency brake onto his lap. With his right hand he pulled her hands high up behind her back, turning her so her back was against his chest. She thrashed her head wildly and tried to squirm away, but every movement only drove her locked hands painfully higher. Her heart pounded so fast she felt it trying to beat its way out of her body. Beneath her hips, Mark’s thighs were like iron, hard and unyielding.
Annabelle lifted her legs in an attempt to kick out the front window, but stopped when he pressed his arm harder against her throat. Any move on her part would cut off all but the merest trickle of air. Her entire being
Annabelle squared her shoulders and let out a deep breath. It wouldn't be easy, and he might not like her by the time she finished, but it was unavoidable.
“You’re right. And I guess I have to start by apologizing.”
Mark undid his seatbelt and turned to face her. “I think the only conversation starter worse is ‘we have to talk’. Go on—you might as well dive right in.”
“I’m not a travel writer. I work for Hidden Story —the TV news magazine—as an investigative reporter.” She paused, but when Mark said nothing, she continued. “I came to Charleston on a story. I didn’t think I was making much headway until I realized someone was following me.”
Mark shook his head. “Not good enough. You were scared out there on the beach. Sure, you were unflappable, professional and great in a crisis, but I could tell you were scared down to the bone. This isn’t just any story, is it?”
She looked down at her lap. It was easier if she didn’t meet his gaze. “Officially—and by that I mean according to your less than helpful Charleston P.D.—it’s nothing more than two unconnected missing persons. Unofficially, considering the timing and the fact I’m now being followed, there’s a good chance it involves murder.” Annabelle’s breath caught on the word. She couldn’t personalize, not now. It couldn’t be about Vanessa, because if it was, she might curl into a ball and start crying. And falling apart wouldn’t help at all.
Mark grabbed her chin and turned her to face him.
“You’re telling me there may be people out there right now trying to kill you, and the only protection we have is the fact we’re parked at the town dump? When were you planning on spilling the beans? After the first bullet slammed through our picnic basket?”
“Look, you have every right to be upset, but I didn’t say I knew anyone was trying to kill me. At least, not right now.”
“Squabbling over semantics isn’t going to improve my mood one bit. As a matter of fact, the only thing that would make me feel better is if you spell out for me, nice and slow, every single thing there is to know about our current situation. And just to play it safe, go ahead and treat me like the dumb, good old boy you think I am. I want to be sure I don’t get confused somewhere in the middle.”
Annabelle gaped at him. “I don’t know where you got the impression I think you’re—” She broke off at the fury smoldering in his black eyes. “Fine. I’ll start from the beginning.” Speaking quickly and concisely, she laid out the whole story. He didn’t interrupt or ask questions, but let her get it all out. She was compelled to finish with another apology.
“You see, I barely had a trail to follow until today. The last thing I wanted to do was involve you, let alone put you in danger. I can look out for myself.”
“Annabelle, scoot on over here.” He motioned with his head as if staring at something through the window. Curious, she angled her body towards the steering wheel.
In a lightning-fast move, Mark put her in a head lock with his left arm, dragging her over the emergency brake onto his lap. With his right hand he pulled her hands high up behind her back, turning her so her back was against his chest. She thrashed her head wildly and tried to squirm away, but every movement only drove her locked hands painfully higher. Her heart pounded so fast she felt it trying to beat its way out of her body. Beneath her hips, Mark’s thighs were like iron, hard and unyielding.
Annabelle lifted her legs in an attempt to kick out the front window, but stopped when he pressed his arm harder against her throat. Any move on her part would cut off all but the merest trickle of air. Her entire being
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