Page 18 of Allie's Shelter

“I’d rather take care of myself,” Allie insisted. “If I let you know where I’m staying, will that be enough?”

“No.” Cochran said it with enough force Allie didn’t protest. “I’m sorry, honey. Go with Ross or stay with me. In jail.”

Ross thought defeat had never looked so lovely as Allie straightened her shoulders, gained her feet, and came to stand by his side. “We’ll be in touch,” he said.

“You might want to find an attorney while you’re at it, Allie.” Cochran wagged his finger at them both. “And I haven’t seen you. If you say otherwise, I’ll deny it all the way to my grave. No one in my office will mention this visit. I’ve got your cell number, so go on and get out of here.”

* * *

Allie managed to say thank you before Ross guided her out of the office, his big palm hot on the small of her back. His unrelenting proximity was a comfort. She’d been cold since the moment the sheriff told her someone had accused her of murder.

“Eyewitness,” she mumbled as they crossed the reception area. Everything seemed bigger and smaller all at once. The sound of her running shoes squeaking on the waxed floor was too loud. The people watching them felt too close. Logic dictated nothing had changed from minutes ago, and yet some small part of her knew nothing would ever be the same again.

Without Ross, she might have frozen in that odd, distorted place, helpless to break the hopelessness blanketing her. But he propelled her forward into the bright afternoon sunshine where the gusty November wind cleared away the clouds in her mind.

“This way.” Either his voice was quiet or her ears were muffled by the overwhelming shock. He steered her toward a car she didn’t recognize, parked at the curb.

“My duffel!” She turned back toward the building, but he caught her elbow.

“I have it.” He hefted it to show her. “Stay with me, sweetheart.”

It had been many years since men called her pet names and considered it polite. In her office—her former office—it would be cause for a harassment suit. Not here. Not at home. It was an unexpected comfort.

“Where are we going?” She was tucked into the front seat of a midsized SUV. Ross reached across to help her with her seatbelt and she batted his hands away. “I can do it.”

“That’s my girl. You’re welcome to rejoin the world anytime.”

“I’m a woman.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“I’m not yours.”

“Right.”

Fact or not, his unruffled responses made her feel petty and small. He’d been the first one to walk away, but only because his military career had needed him to report before she moved into her college dorm. Eventually, she tired of writing letters that she couldn’t send without an address, accepting that perseverance didn’t always pay off. She forced herself to think of something else, something more important to the moment.

“Until all this happened, I was well respected in my field.”

“You’ll get it back.”

“No. No, I think that part of my life is over and gone forever.”

There was silence for a time and she closed her eyes, not wanting to know what new danger he might be watching for. “Why don’t you go back to whatever it is you do?”

“Because you need help. Bottom line, help is what I do.”

He was right. As much as it pained her to admit it, she did need help and she didn’t have anyone else. She opened her eyes, but she didn’t see the scenery beyond the window. Her mind was flashing through those last few days at work before the headlong rush of panic drove her out of town. “I wanted to hide out at Aunt Ruth’s place until I figured this out. I thought being home would be safe. Now I can’t hide anywhere.”

“Sheriff Cochran won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I didn’t kill my boss.”

“I know.”

He said it with the unwavering conviction usually reserved for best friends during a crisis. She turned that over in her mind. Sheriff Cochran would call her friend Nicole and learn she’d spent the night there, even though she hadn’t. It wasn’t an alibi Allie expected to hold up in court, but it bought her a little breathing room. Maybe.

“I need to figure this out.”

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