In The Arms Of The Enemy. Carol Ericson

story ended. Denny turned down the sound and Caroline could breathe again—almost. “My food?”

      “Sorry.” He placed the bag on the counter. “Napkins and utensils inside.”

      She handed him a twenty. “Thanks, keep it.”

      Cole rose from his stool before she did. “Ready?”

      “Uh-huh.” She looked at Bud’s curious expression and said, “Cole’s giving me a ride home in the rain.”

      “Good idea. Have a good night.”

      Caroline turned, hugging the bag to her chest. So now if Cole murdered her and dumped her body in the woods, someone would connect him to her disappearance—and she was only half kidding.

      She preceded Cole through the restaurant in thoughtful silence. Was the revelation of Johnny Diamond’s connection to a motorcycle gang news to Cole or was he a member, too? She could always check his body for tattoos—and she was only half kidding about that, too.

      As he opened the door for her, she slid a glance at his hand and the wrist revealed when his sleeve rode up. No tattoos there and she hadn’t noticed any on his neck.

      He opened his umbrella. “Here, get under. I’m just one door down.”

      A small sedan flashed its lights and beeped once, and Cole held the umbrella over her head while she climbed into the car. When he slammed the door, she did a quick survey of the console and the backseat.

      No weapons and no dead bodies. Things were looking up.

      He opened the driver’s side door and collapsed his umbrella. As he slid onto the seat, he tossed the soggy umbrella in the rear. “Whew. This is a deluge. Even with your umbrella, you would’ve been soaked to the bone.”

      “Yeah, thanks.”

      He started the car and then turned to look at her, studying her profile. “Glad to do it.”

      “Straight ahead.” She pinned her hands between her bouncing knees.

      “All the way at the end where the businesses stop?”

      “Yes.”

      The car crawled through the flooded streets, and Cole hunched forward. “You’d think a town in Washington would do a better job of drainage.”

      “Timberline’s old.”

      “The influx of money from Evergreen Software should start going toward the town’s infrastructure.”

      “Linda says it’s helped a lot.” Caroline tapped on the window. “Up ahead on the right where the two yellow lights are.”

      Cole pulled into the driveway she didn’t use. “I’ll get the door for you.”

      He pulled his umbrella from the backseat and unfurled it before getting out of the car. Two seconds later, he was opening her door, holding the umbrella over her head at great expense to his own well-being.

      As she groped for the keys in her purse, he stayed right by her side, keeping her dry. When she made it to the covered porch, she pulled him up next to her. “You’re drenched.”

      “You’re not.”

      She released his sleeve. Was this his strategy? Cozy up to her so she’d spill her guts?

      “Well, now it’s all yours.” She inserted her key into the lock and turned. “Thanks again and good luck with your book.”

      “Good luck to you, too, Caroline Johnson.”

      His voice trailed to a whisper as he melted back into the rain.

      She blew out a breath and pushed open her door. That sounded like a goodbye. Linda must’ve been convincing.

      She stepped into the small living room and the hair on the back of her neck quivered. Her gaze darted from the bookshelves to the pillows on the couch to the magazines stacked on the coffee table.

      Someone had been in her house. A primal fear seized her and she turned and fled back into the driving rain.