"Will the Caddie be drivable?"
"I think so." However, it certainly looked as if he'd be climbing in and out from the passenger side for the next few days. He climbed into the pickup and reversed it off the road, out of everyone's way. Then he checked to make sure the idiot was still trussed tight and tossed the keys deep into the trees.
When he turned around, Kat had her hands thrust on to her hips, one foot tapping and eyes narrowed. She looked as if she was up to something, but he wasn't sure what. He crossed the road, and her expression suddenly cleared.
"All done now?" Annoyance and amusement combined in her voice and made him a just a little uneasy.
"Not yet." He walked past her and inspected the damage to his car. As he suspected, the driver's door had been punched in too far to open. Both driver side door panels had sustained severe damage, but nothing that would affect the car's overall drivability. He hoped. It would be a cow to handle, though.
"Let's go." He dug a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her, then climbed into the car and started the engine.
She got in after him, then flipped down the sun visor and began cleaning her wound with the aid of the vanity mirror. "Not deep."
"No."
He took off slowly. The Caddie shuddered and groaned, the rear-end making a variety of noises he just didn't like.
He gradually built up speed but had to ease up on the accelerator as they neared forty. The vibrations were too drastic to tempt fate by going any faster.
Silence fell between him and Kat, but it was nowhere near as easy as it originally had been.
"You have to trust me," she said eventually. "I really do know what I'm talking about."
"I have no real reason to believe that." Sure, her background checked out okay, but that didn't mean her and her grandmother weren't pulling some damn stunt over the lot of them.
And while his instincts said he could trust her, his instincts had been proven wrong before. Not often, but often when it really counted.
"You don't have a lot of faith in women, do you?"
Her comment surprised him, and he looked at her. There was hurt in her green eyes, and while he regretted that, he had to wonder why. They may be sexually attracted but they were still strangers after all. He had no more reason to trust her than he did any possible witness in a crime.
"What's that got to do with anything?"
She crossed her arms. "Do you often sleep with women you don't trust?"
"All the time." Because he didn't trust any woman. Not nowadays.
"So women really are just a form of release to you?"
"Yes." He looked at her again. "But you knew that.
You've known from the start that I was a werewolf."
She pulled her gaze from his and stared ahead. He had a sudden feeling it was going to take an awful lot of chocolate to get back into her good graces.
They cruised on. The terrain passed by, interesting but endless, and the vibrations coming through the wheel gradually got worse. Obviously, more damage had been done than he'd originally thought.
"What do you want to eat?" he asked as they rattled into Bandon.
She shrugged. "Something hot and hearty. I need to rebuild some energy."
He cruised around, and they eventually settled for a classy-looking restaurant that was close to the beach. He stopped the car and watched her climb out, enjoying the flash of her honey-coloured thighs. "Get us table and I'll be back when I can."
She nodded and slammed the door shut. He watched until she entered the building then headed off in search of a mechanic. He found one who seemed to know what he was talking about, and after a quick few minutes under the car, the mechanic came up with the news he'd feared.
"The accident has stuffed the rear axle. I usually have replacements, but I've just used my last."
"How long will it take to get parts in?"
"Got them on order already. Shouldn't be more than a day or so."
They couldn't wait that long. He plucked a business card from his wallet. "Fix it. Is there a place nearby where I can rent another?"
The mechanic took a quick glance at the card then shoved it into a greasy pocket. "Sure is. Just down the road. Tell Jim I sent you, and he'll give you a good deal."
"Thanks. Call me when the car's fixed."
"Sure thing."
He collected their bags, the condoms and his gun out of the car, but by the time he'd arranged a rental and got back to the restaurant, an hour had passed by. He glanced at his watch. They still had a two-hour drive to Rogue River . Time was slipping away too fast.
She wasn't eating when he arrived, which surprised him.
She just sat at a table, sipping wine and staring out the window.
He slid into the chair opposite her. Things could have happened a whole lot quicker if he'd sat beside her and let the aura of the werewolf do its stuff, but as much as he wanted her, he also wanted her truly willing. A need that was a little disturbing and certainly something he'd never worried about before when in the midst of moon heat.
She glanced at him. There were smudges under her eyes, and her skin looked a little pale. "All set?"
"Had to rent a car. The Caddie's out of action for a couple of days."
"The Circle will reimburse all costs." Her voice still held a touch coolness.
He waved the comment away. He'd spend his entire savings if that was what it took to bring Janie home and this killer to justice.
A waitress came over and handed them both a menu.
After some consideration Kat ordered a steak, and he chose the salmon. The woman gave them a cheery nod and disappeared into the kitchen.
Kat picked up the bottle of wine. "You want a glass?"
He nodded and held his glass out. He would have preferred a beer, but he couldn't be bothered calling the waitress out again. He sipped the cool liquid carefully. A little sweet for his tastes, but drinkable.
"Did you call your grandmother and tell her we're okay?"
She nodded. "She said it's important we get there by nine."
He frowned. "Why? What difference is a few minutes going to make?"
She studied him for a minute, then glanced out the window. "If we don't make our presence felt, another kid will be kidnapped."
Then they'd definitely be getting there by nine. "So, basically, we're bait."
She nodded. "If they're worrying about us, they're not stealing little kids."
"Won't that just force them to run again?"
"Gran doesn't think so. She thinks it'll all end in Rogue River , one way or another."
"You put a damn lot of faith in your grandmother's visions, don't you?"
Her gaze flicked to his. "I have no reason not to."
And therein lay the cause of her remoteness. Trust. Or more precisely, his lack of it. "I'm a cop," he said softly.
"We tend not to trust anyone."
She leaned back and studied him for several moments.
"That's just an excuse."
Yes, and she was reading him better than anyone ever had. "It's nothing personal."
Her look suggested it was very personal. She took another sip of her wine, then said, "Why?"
He shrugged. "The nature of the beast, I think." And an easy scapegoat in situations like this.
"The beast being the werewolf rather than the cop?"
"Yeah." He hesitated, but knew he owed her at least some honesty. "I can't help the way I am. I don't need or want any complications in my life. All I'm after is a good time while the moon is full. After that, it's thanks for the sex, but bye-bye, sister."
"So there's never been anyone you've felt the slightest bit emotional about?"
"No." The lie slipped easily off his tongue. "And there won't ever be. As I said, it's the nature of the beast."