He kept his arm around her and walked back to his car parked half on the curb with the driver’s door open and with the engine still running. “Let’s get you out of here.”

He helped her into the passenger seat and then took his own.

“Buckle up,” Todd told her before putting the car in reverse.

The car moved. Her hand clutched her bag in a white-knuckled grip.

“Buckle up,” he told her again.

When she responded with a blank gaze, he assumed she was in shock. He reached across her chest, pulled the strap over her lap, and clicked it in.

She still trembled.

“Hey, you’re safe now.” Todd placed his hand on hers. Heat surged with the connection he tried his best to ignore.

She gazed up at him with her innocent, trusting eyes. Thank God she’s safe.

“What are you doing out here, Officer Blakely?”

Her words stopped him from staring at her.

“Todd,” he placed his hands on the wheel and maneuvered his car onto the street. “Call me Todd.”

“What are you doing out here, Todd?”

“Searching for you.”

“Why?”

Why? Dammit. Wasn’t that the same question he had been asking himself over the past nine hours? He stopped at a red light. “Because you don’t belong out here.” Her hair was escaping the rubber band holding it. Her dirt smudged face held those big Bambi eyes that resembled a deer in the headlights of an oncoming car. No. She didn’t belong on the streets.

“I’m not going back to that place, that mission.

The minds there are sick.”

“True.”

“And the hospital is for those who are ill.”

“True.” Now what? He hadn’t thought farther than finding her. Now what was he going to do with her. He knew of a women’s shelter, but they closed their doors after ten, it was going on eleven now.

Not that she’d be any safer there. The women in those places led hard lives.

“So, where are you taking me?”

He let out a long-suffering breath, and hoped he wasn’t making a huge mistake. “Home.”

Todd’s home was a small bungalow nestled in an older part of town. The streets were tree-lined and quiet. The yards were small, but not so much that he could hear every conversation his neighbors had, just the ones when voices were raised. He walked around the car and opened her door.

She either was accustomed to this, or had no idea how to open it. By her expression, he wasn’t sure which was true.

Once inside, he tossed his keys on the table by the door and switched on the lights.

She walked behind him and glanced about the room. It was sparsely furnished with an old worn leathered sofa and two side chairs. He had a small fireplace that hadn’t been lit in years, and a flat screen television hanging above it.

Todd disappeared around a corner and called out. “Make yourself comfortable. Would you like something to drink?”

What the hell am I doing? He twisted the cap off a beer. The woman standing in his living room had been lying to him since they met, and yet he still brought her here, to his home.

He was breaking the ultimate rule of police work and getting personally involved. She wasn’t a suspect in any crime. Not that it made him feel any better. “I have beer, wine or soda if you like.”

“Wine would be nice.” Her voice moved closer.

Todd’s gaze took in his bright kitchen and the few dishes sitting in the sink and a forgotten newspaper on the counter. What a mess.

She walked into the room and smiled.

He removed the wine from his refrigerator, poured her a glass, and handed it to her. “Have a seat. I’m going to make a sandwich, want one?” He’d missed lunch and dinner.

“Nay. This is fine.”

He watched her eyes close as the wine went down her throat. Her features started to relax for the first time since he found her. “Feeling better?”

“Aye, I mean yes. Thank you.”

“You really are from Scotland, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She stopped the glass before it met her lips. “I mean, I think I am.” She put the wine glass to the side and settled into one of the tall chairs.

“Uh-huh...” He watched her nerves return, and her lies. “Right.” He tossed bread, lunchmeat, and lettuce on the counter.

“You live here alone?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He stacked ham between the bread with a slice of cheese. “I tried roommates, but they didn’t work out.”

“Why not?”

“Different lifestyles, I guess. Some were pigs, never cleaning up after themselves. Others wanted to party all the time.” He put his plate on the counter and moved to sit next to her.

“No family?”

“No.” He took a bite.

“You don’t have a housekeeper?”

“No.”

“You do your own cleaning?” She sent him a puzzled look, as if she didn’t believe him.

“You sound surprised. Did you grow up with housekeepers?” he asked without thinking.

He noticed when she opened her mouth to answer, but bit back her words.

He took another bite of his sandwich, chased it with beer, never taking his eyes off her.

Nerves dangled on her sleeve like fringe. Lying was new to her, but like any practiced art, she was getting better at it.

“Just tell me one thing.” He looked away, giving her an out if she wanted to take it. “Are you in trouble with the law?”

“God no.”

“Don’t you mean, ‘you don’t think you are?’” he mocked.

She shifted in her seat. “I’m not in trouble with the law.”

Her second honest answer. Maybe he was stupid for believing her, but he did. Then again, he needed to have his head examined by the department shrink after his actions on this day. He tempted his luck and asked her more. “What’s your name?”

She reached for her drink, struggled with her answer before she spoke. “My name is Myra.”

“Myra what?”

“Please, Todd, I can’t. You wouldn’t understand.”

“You would be surprised at what I understand, Myra.” When she didn’t give him any more he asked.

“You’re running from someone. Who? An ex-husband?”

“Nay, I’ve never married.”

“Then who?”

“I can’t tell you.” She finished her wine and stared into the empty glass.

“And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you’re running from.” He wanted to be angry, and a part of him was, but the fear he sensed from her and his crazy need to protect her overshadowed his annoyance. God he hoped his dick wasn’t interfering with his good sense.