since she’d seen the bodies at Zuma, she felt almost safe. Still, she couldn’t prevent the shudders that wracked her body. Auggie shot her a sideways glance, aware, so she lifted the .38 a bit, just to remind him.
“Would you seriously shoot me when I’m driving?”
She glared at him, resenting his insolence. “Where do you live?”
“Uh . . . not far from here. Toward Portland.”
“Are you lying?”
“ No.”
“You took a while to answer my question.”
“I was just thinking about the exit I need to take. It’s coming up.”
They were driving on Sunset Highway and getting close to the junction at 217. “Do you live alone?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go there.”
She wanted just to keep driving and driving and driving, but that wasn’t prudent, either. She wondered, for a moment, if she could ditch him and just take his car. But what would she do with him?
He passed 217 and turned off at Sylvan, winding the car up the hill. Liv gave a glance around his vehicle, thinking hard, noting the dark clothes he’d thrown into the back and the toolbox. A length of twine was wrapped around the Jeep’s back hatch, holding it down, as if maybe it popped open unexpectedly from time to time.
They drove in silence for about twenty minutes, taking several side streets until they reached his place, a small bungalow that needed some serious repairs if the cracked sidewalk and sagging gutters were any indication. There was a breezeway between the house and one-car garage. The door to the garage was open and he pulled inside, put the Jeep in park, and switched off the engine.
“Now what?” he asked, pulling the key from the ignition.
“Stay in the car. Hands up. I’ll come around.” She opened her door, the gun still trained on him, then walked around the front of the Jeep and stood outside the driver’s door, her muzzle aimed at him through the window. “Let yourself out,” she said.
Carefully, he opened the door, his hands raised in front of him. She took the keys from his hand.
“Get the twine from the back of your car.”
“The twine?”
She nodded.
“You’re not going to tie me up,” he stated flatly, challengingly.
“Yes. I am.”
“It won’t work. What are you running from? They’ll find you.”
“ No.”
“Don’t take offense. But I don’t think you’re good at this.”
Liv barked out a harsh laugh. “I’m only as good as I need to be.”
He thought that over, then walked around to the back of the Jeep and pulled up the hatch as far as the twine would allow. He untied the twine, gathered it together and put it into Liv’s outstretched hand.
She said, “I’m going to put this gun into my jacket pocket now, but I’ll shoot you through it if you do anything while we walk across the breezeway to the back door.”
He made a movement of acquiescence and then headed out the garage’s man-door, across the breezeway and up two concrete steps. At the door, he said, “I’m going to need the key.”
Carefully, she put the full set in his upturned palm.
“I usually close the garage door,” he told her.
“I’ll do it later.”
There were no neighbors directly across from him. In fact this stretch of road was winding and covered with fir trees, with a wide stretch of sun-scorched lawn beside the cracked cement driveway. If she had to stay out of sight a while, it was not a terrible hideout.
He threaded a key in the lock. Twisting the door open, he stepped inside, but Liv was right on his heels, just in case he planned to slam the door in her face and lock her out.
They were in a kitchen with a small wooden table and two chairs. “Sit down,” she ordered, holding the length of twine.
He eyed the twine and said disbelievingly, “You plan to tie me to a chair?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, come on. I’m not going to do anything. I don’t really care what you’ve done. Let’s just sit down and talk about it.”
She gestured with the muzzle. “Sit down. Put the keys on
“Would you seriously shoot me when I’m driving?”
She glared at him, resenting his insolence. “Where do you live?”
“Uh . . . not far from here. Toward Portland.”
“Are you lying?”
“ No.”
“You took a while to answer my question.”
“I was just thinking about the exit I need to take. It’s coming up.”
They were driving on Sunset Highway and getting close to the junction at 217. “Do you live alone?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go there.”
She wanted just to keep driving and driving and driving, but that wasn’t prudent, either. She wondered, for a moment, if she could ditch him and just take his car. But what would she do with him?
He passed 217 and turned off at Sylvan, winding the car up the hill. Liv gave a glance around his vehicle, thinking hard, noting the dark clothes he’d thrown into the back and the toolbox. A length of twine was wrapped around the Jeep’s back hatch, holding it down, as if maybe it popped open unexpectedly from time to time.
They drove in silence for about twenty minutes, taking several side streets until they reached his place, a small bungalow that needed some serious repairs if the cracked sidewalk and sagging gutters were any indication. There was a breezeway between the house and one-car garage. The door to the garage was open and he pulled inside, put the Jeep in park, and switched off the engine.
“Now what?” he asked, pulling the key from the ignition.
“Stay in the car. Hands up. I’ll come around.” She opened her door, the gun still trained on him, then walked around the front of the Jeep and stood outside the driver’s door, her muzzle aimed at him through the window. “Let yourself out,” she said.
Carefully, he opened the door, his hands raised in front of him. She took the keys from his hand.
“Get the twine from the back of your car.”
“The twine?”
She nodded.
“You’re not going to tie me up,” he stated flatly, challengingly.
“Yes. I am.”
“It won’t work. What are you running from? They’ll find you.”
“ No.”
“Don’t take offense. But I don’t think you’re good at this.”
Liv barked out a harsh laugh. “I’m only as good as I need to be.”
He thought that over, then walked around to the back of the Jeep and pulled up the hatch as far as the twine would allow. He untied the twine, gathered it together and put it into Liv’s outstretched hand.
She said, “I’m going to put this gun into my jacket pocket now, but I’ll shoot you through it if you do anything while we walk across the breezeway to the back door.”
He made a movement of acquiescence and then headed out the garage’s man-door, across the breezeway and up two concrete steps. At the door, he said, “I’m going to need the key.”
Carefully, she put the full set in his upturned palm.
“I usually close the garage door,” he told her.
“I’ll do it later.”
There were no neighbors directly across from him. In fact this stretch of road was winding and covered with fir trees, with a wide stretch of sun-scorched lawn beside the cracked cement driveway. If she had to stay out of sight a while, it was not a terrible hideout.
He threaded a key in the lock. Twisting the door open, he stepped inside, but Liv was right on his heels, just in case he planned to slam the door in her face and lock her out.
They were in a kitchen with a small wooden table and two chairs. “Sit down,” she ordered, holding the length of twine.
He eyed the twine and said disbelievingly, “You plan to tie me to a chair?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, come on. I’m not going to do anything. I don’t really care what you’ve done. Let’s just sit down and talk about it.”
She gestured with the muzzle. “Sit down. Put the keys on
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