Page 43

“Are we in jail?”
“Yes, but not as in arrested. We’re here because, after what happened to you at the gym, we can’t go back there. It puts everyone else in too much danger.”
“Did the Stormchaser really try to kill me?” she whispered.
“Yes.”
She swiped a shaky hand across her face.
“Oh, my God, why is this happening? I can’t identify him.”
“In his eyes, you’re the first loose end he’s ever left. You’re a mistake. He’s trying to fix it.”
“I’m scared, Tate.”
“I know you are, baby. But we’re here, and we won’t let him hurt you again.”
Nola knew he meant what he said, but there was no way he could keep that promise. Her thoughts were scattered. Her body ached, and circumstance had thrust her back into Tate Benton’s life in a way she would never have imagined. Her anger at him was still there under the surface. There was so much about their past that she didn’t understand. But now, sitting in his lap with his arms around her and her cheek against his chest, she felt whole again.
“Is there a bathroom anywhere close by?” she asked.
“You mean besides the one over there?” Tate asked, pointing at the toilet in the corner, and then grinned when she wrinkled her nose. “Just kidding. I’ll take you,” he said.
“I can walk, but I’m going to hang on to your arm. I feel dopey from the medicine. Is that the bag with my stuff?”
He nodded.
She looked at the bloody shirt she was wearing.
“I don’t want to look at this shirt another minute. Would you please find something else in there for me? It doesn’t matter what. They’re all a little bit too big, which is actually a good thing now.”
Tate dug through the clothing they’d given her at the Red Cross center, pulled out a large, oversize LSU T-shirt and held it up.
“Will this work?”
She eyed the width of the sleeves and neck against the bandages on her arm and nodded.
Tate walked her out of the jail area, then up the hall toward the receiving desk. Allen was asleep on the cot in the holding cell as they passed by, and they continued on without speaking until they’d reached the ladies’ room.
“This is it, but I don’t know how clean it will be.”
Nola sighed. “As long as it’s private, I can manage.”
“You’re not too dizzy or anything?” he asked.
“I’m okay. Wait for me?”
“Absolutely. Here’s your shirt.”
“Thank you,” she said, and went inside.
He was still standing in the hall when Wade and Cameron came down from the field office upstairs.
“Where’s Nola?” Wade asked.
Tate pointed to the bathroom. “What have you been doing?”
“Talking to Jonesy out at the trailer park,” Wade said. “When I was out there the other day I remembered him saying he’s a night owl, so I called and told him our dilemma. He has two trailer houses he rents out and one just turned up empty. The people who’d been staying there were in the same fix as Nola. Jonesy said they just left to go stay upstate with family, since their home is underwater. The trailer is the deluxe model, whatever that means, and he’s already cleaned it out, so if we want to take a chance on staying there, given the fact that our killer could be there, too, we have a place to go tomorrow.”