She wished she could muster the obstinance to make him wait, to make him order her, but she was too anxious to have her hands freed, so like an obedient and well-trained pet, she turned around. With an efficient snap, he cut through the cuff.

When she came back around, he was rummaging inside the trunk of the car. He returned to her carrying several things, including one of the unused camouflage-print bandanas.

“How many are you down to?”

“I have a few more.”

She wondered which would run out first, the bandanas or her time.

He passed her the bandana and a small bar of soap, the kind furnished in an inexpensive hotel, no larger than a wafer and still wrapped in glossy white paper. He then handed her a bottle of water. “Be frugal with it.”

When she realized that he was suggesting she wash, the idea of it was so appealing, she wanted to weep with gratitude. On the other hand, the extended kindness made her wary, and her expression must have conveyed that.

He motioned behind him. “As long as you behave yourself, you can have that half of the building, and I promise to keep my distance and my back turned.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t.”

She looked past him into the gathering gloom at the back of the building. Although the early dusk would partially conceal her, the deeply shadowed space wasn’t inviting. Being clean, however, was.

She stepped around him and walked into an area of the cavernous building where the darkness was deepest. At eye level on the rough wall, a two-by-four ran horizontally to form a narrow ledge. She unwrapped the soap bar and placed it there along with the bottle of water.

She glanced over her shoulder. Shaw was folding up the tarp, which she took as a good sign. He wouldn’t be doing that if he planned on needing it soon. Nor would he be enabling her to wash. In any case, he wasn’t looking her way.

Holding the corner of the bandana between her teeth, she pulled her top over her head, and, before she could talk herself out of it, peeled off her jeans. She had difficulty getting them past her sandals, but she wasn’t going to put her bare feet on the floor if she could avoid it.

Really there was no difference between being in a bra and panties and wearing a bikini. But feeling exposed and vulnerable, she hastily poured a palmful of water and worked up a lather with the soap between her hands.

When she’d washed every place she could reach, she soaked the bandana and used it to wipe away the soap. With the last of the water she wet the cloth again, then went over herself a second time.

“Time’s up.”

She froze and gave him another glance. His back was to her. He was pulling on his shirt. She called to him that she was almost finished.

“I’m counting down from sixty,” he said.

“That’s not enough time for me to air-dry. The humidity—”

“Fifty-seven.”

She cursed under her breath and hurriedly pulled on her jeans. Her skin and underwear were damp. Even so, she felt considerably better. Trying not to dwell on the dried bloodstains on her top, she pulled it on and pushed her arms through the armholes. She scooped her hair from the neckline and gathered it into a ponytail, tying it with the wet bandana.

“Thirty-four.”

She reached for the bar of soap and, in her haste, dropped it to the floor. “Damn!”

“Twenty-two. Twenty-one.”

She crouched and groped along the floor looking for the soap.

But she discovered something else. Something completely unexpected.

Immediately, she recognized it for what it was, but if she hadn’t been this close to it, it would have gone unnoticed, because it was stuck between the bottom of one of the vertical slats and another two-by-four that ran along the floor like a baseboard.

She took hold, but it was tightly wedged in the crack between the two pieces of lumber, which, despite their age, were unforgiving. She applied herself to pulling it free, but if she managed to, where could she hide it until she had an opportunity to use it? The timing had to be perfect. She would have to be close to him, and lightning quick, because she wouldn’t get a second chance, so the jab would have to count and be—

“Ten, nine, eight.”

She gave one final tug.

“Seven. Six.”

“I’m coming.” She used her last five seconds to calm her breathing, then stood up and started toward him. “I feel much better, thank you. It was wonderful, truly. Who knew that a sponge bath could be—”

“What have you got behind your back?”

“Nothing. I’m just tucking in my top—”

She didn’t even get the last word out before he was on her, turning her around and seizing her wrist. He pried open her fist. In it lay the bar of soap.

“I wanted to keep it,” she said meekly. “You may have fewer of these than bandanas.”

Her heart didn’t stop thudding until he finally released her from an incisive stare. “I’m gonna eat,” he said. “You can or not.”

He let go of her hand and moved away. She trailed him, but her mind was on the weapon she’d had to leave wedged between the planks in the wall. In order to relocate it in the darkness, all she had to do was look for the empty water bottle she’d left at eye level on the makeshift ledge.

Her problem was going to be getting to it at all.

Jordie was up to something.

If Shaw hadn’t discerned that the second she came toward him with that chipper smile and babbling monologue, the way she was wolfing down the beanie wienies would have been a dead giveaway. Her conversation was still lively.

“My skin was gritty with dried sweat. Didn’t washing off make you feel better?”

“Nothing like cleanliness.”

“And now this fine cuisine.” She shot him a smile that was almost flirtatious.

Yeah, something was behind her change in mood and batting eyelashes.

She emptied the small can and licked the bowl of her spoon clean. “Want something else?” he asked.

“No thank you.”

He took the can from her, tossing it and his own empty into the trunk before lowering the lid. When he did, the light went out, and so did Jordie’s fake smile.

She looked around with worry. “What happens when we lose all daylight?”

“It’ll get dark.”

“But…we…we can open a car door so we’ll have the dome light. Or keep the trunk open.”

He shook his head. “Too much drain on the battery.”

“I saw one of those big square flashlights in the trunk.”

“For emergency use only.”

“You could—”

“A light can be seen for miles, Jordie.”

“From as far away as the main road? How far is it from here?”

“No light.”

“So we’ll just sit here in the dark all night?”

“You scared of the dark?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “It’s always dark when your eyes are closed.”

“I slept too long today. I won’t be sleepy for hours.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to think up something we can do in the dark. For hours.” He walked to where she sat on the upended crate. “Oh, sorry. Did that sound like another lewd innuendo? Didn’t mean for it to.”