Page 80 of Nowhere to Hide
“Relax,” Locke said against my ear. He banded an arm around my middle, bringing me back against him. “We’re just a couple on a day trip.”
“Right.” I dropped my hand on top of his arm.
“Next up, Salem.”
A shiver ran down my spine as we approached the wharf. It looked much different in the sunshine. No dark corners, just slips of boats in all sizes as well as sailboats dotting the open ocean.
We waited out the first rush of people getting off the ferry, then blended in with the slower day trippers who were chattering excitedly.
Locke’s hand found mine and laced our fingers.
My heart kicked—hard. Just play acting.
No big deal.
When we got to the stairs, he hitched me up onto his hip and took the stairs two at a time before we burst out onto the ramp. I held onto his shoulders and grinned at the older woman who fanned her face.
“Now that’s what I call a man.”
Locke’s lips twitched, but he didn’t quite let a smile free. He let me down as we got near the end of the ramp and held me close to his side as we fell into step with the last of the passengers. He was scanning the crowd, but had a purposeful stride. He cursed as we got to the parking lot.
“What?”
He sighed and turned us toward a black SUV.
“Is this yours?”
“No. It’s a company car.” He reached under the wheel well and came out with a little box. He pressed his thumb to a pad, and it popped open with a key. He shoved the little box into his pocket and opened my door with his thumb once more.
“Not sure I’ve ever seen a lock like that.”
“Easier than trying to find keys all the time.” He got me settled in the seat and snapped my belt around my hips.
“I’m not a child.”
His gaze drifted over my face to my lips before returning to meet my gaze. “Definitely not a child.” Then he backed up and shut the door.
My heart was careening around my chest like a drunk canary.
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
He got in his side then reached beneath the seat and I heard another mechanical click. He pulled a gun out from under the seat and tucked it into a special holster beside the steering wheel.
“Is that necessary?”
“Not sure. I’d rather have it.”
I twisted my hands in my lap. The vagabond Locke was replaced with someone else. More remote if that was at all possible. Even his demeanor was different. His shoulders were back and his posture perfect. He pulled out of the spot and fought his way over to the exit around people who obviously didn’t know where they were going.
We avoided the heart of Salem, instead heading for the hospital. Once out of the touristy part of the city, it was smooth sailing. Locke still had his eyes on his surroundings, and my heart wouldn’t stop pounding.
What kind of man was Locke? The man away from the boat—the man who worked for The Kendrick Group.
Instead of parking in the regular lot, he drove around the back of the hospital.
“Why are we going back here?”
“I don’t want to sign in if I don’t have to.” He parked near a few other cars, and took the gun as he hopped out.
