Witness In Hiding. Lisa Phillips

she was out of options. Her final plan—the fake passports Moose had made—was out of reach now. Zoe had no one to turn to. She was out of ideas.

      Enter Jude Brauer.

      For whatever reason she didn’t much want to ponder, Zoe had crept from that hiding spot and around the building to the imposing car with government plates. He’d looked at her with so much compassion, and she hadn’t been ready to let that go.

      As soon as the coast had been clear, she’d booked it across the lot, not really sure what she’d been expecting to do. And then she thanked God a million times his car had been unlocked. She’d been able to hide. God might not like her right now, but she knew when thanks were due.

      His car. That phone call. For a few minutes everything she’d been through had washed away and she’d actually felt...safe.

      He held out his hand from the front seat of his SUV. Zoe stared at it. She wasn’t agreeing to anything; she wasn’t trusting him, but she had to do something.

      So she put her hand in his. Strong, warm fingers closed around hers. His eyes glowed with approval. Attraction wasn’t something she could deal with right now, so she pushed the feeling aside. Safety meant so much more.

      “It’s nice to meet you, Zoe. I’m Jude.”

      “Hi, Jude.”

      He let go, but the feeling didn’t dissipate. Inside this car she actually felt safe. It was so foreign she almost didn’t recognize it. Some part of her had seen him in that hallway and just...known. Either way, she knew she’d done the right thing.

      It didn’t mean she was trusting him, but Zoe had to face the fact that she seriously needed help. Moose was dead. That guy, the one who had been chasing her for three weeks, so close she’d almost been able to feel his breath hot on her neck...he’d shot Moose and let her live. He must have been given orders to keep her alive, but why? Silencing her would mean the truth died with her. She had nothing but questions—and no way to find answers.

      Echoing her thoughts, Jude asked, “So, what now?”

      Zoe shook her head. “I have no idea.”

      “Why do I think you don’t just mean you have no idea where we should go right now?” His lips curled into a smile. “Maybe I meant coffee, or dinner.”

      Zoe set her hand over her queasy stomach as the image of Moose falling to the floor played through her mind. “I don’t think I’m going to eat for a week after that.”

      “I know what you mean.” His face turned grim.

      “Is that woman okay?”

      Jude nodded. “We do need to talk. You’re obviously in trouble, or you need help. I’d like to know why.”

      “I didn’t do anything wrong!” The words burst from her lips, the need to defend herself as strong as it always had been.

      “I’m not saying you did. What I meant was, why would you turn to me?”

      “You were there.”

      He waited. Then said, “And?”

      Zoe shrugged. It wasn’t the connection. There was one, but that wasn’t it. She hadn’t known before she got in the car that being in here with Jude Brauer would feel so...safe.

      “You have to talk, Zoe. You have to tell me something so I know how to help you.”

      “What about getting back to work? That’s the excuse you gave Mrs. McAffrey.”

      “It wasn’t an excuse. I am working—it’s why I was at the Laundromat. To talk with Moose.”

      Her arm on the duffel bag tightened on a reflex. Jude’s glance went to it, not missing a single thing. Why couldn’t she have been better at this cloak-and-dagger, superspy stuff?

      Zoe sighed. “That’s why I can’t talk to the cops. They’ll think I had something to do with Moose’s business.” Technically, they wouldn’t be wrong. No, she wasn’t a regular customer. She didn’t know, or want to know, who his usual customers were. But she had hired his services. If Jude wanted to question her about Moose, she wouldn’t have anything to tell him. She hadn’t transacted anything with Moose before he died. The introduction had been conducted through a third party, and today was only the second time she’d even seen the man.

      Jude studied her. Great. He probably thought she was a criminal. “How did that shooter know you?”

      Zoe measured her words. “I’ve seen him before, several times over the past three weeks. Usually just out the corner of my eye, or on the street. Today was the closest he’s come, and look at what happened.”

      She’d always been able to slip away, and yet it seemed like he’d known exactly where she would be today. Had Moose, or the man who’d introduced her to him, sold her out? No, Moose had come out and confronted the man with a shotgun. The man who made the introductions had been killed in a drive-by the week before.

      Zoe rubbed her hands down her face. That random “accident” suddenly didn’t seem so random. Had this whole thing been a setup?

      Jude didn’t let up. “He didn’t hurt you. Does he have other plans for you?”

      She lifted her gaze to his. “I don’t know.”

      That was the truth—ish. Zoe did know why the man wanted her, she didn’t know what he was going to do with her.

      Jude sighed, then started up the car.

      “Are you taking me to the police, or turning me into your people?” She’d come so close to actually getting herself and her son and sister out of this. Instead, this was the end of the line. Unless she could somehow convince Jude she hadn’t done anything to warrant being turned in.

      Could she talk about it? That night had been so harrowing she didn’t even know if she could say it out loud.

      “I’m not taking you in,” he said in a tight voice. Trying to convince himself?

      Zoe glanced out the window, relieved he wasn’t pushing her. If she asked, would he drive her where she wanted to go? There was only one way to find out. “Take the next exit.” Zoe needed to hold her son. “Please.” Her voice sounded small even to her own ears.

      He took the exit. He could drop her a few streets over from the house her sister had rented with cash, and he would never know where she was headed. So long as he didn’t follow her. She’d have to be careful.

      Jude said, “I really want to take you back to the office. You have no idea how badly I want to do that.”

      Zoe nodded, whether he saw it or not. She knew he’d locked the rear doors of the SUV while she’d been laugh-crying. She hadn’t been oblivious.

      “Maybe you should.” It was tempting. So tempting. “But you should know, the last time I talked to the police I was followed home that same day. I never heard from the officer again, and I didn’t want to call him if he was the one who betrayed me. After that, I went to my local church. I guess I figured at least God would be on a minister’s side.” She shook her head. What a mess. “No one can help me, Jude.”

      “Maybe I can.”

      “I can’t trust you with what I know. As much as I want to, I can’t tell you what I saw—” She slapped a hand over her own mouth to stop the flow of words.

      “Why get in my SUV if you don’t want my help?”

      “I don’t even know what I want.” Maybe that was a lie, maybe she wanted the connection of someone else in the world—apart from her son and her sister—knowing she was here and that she needed help. Just knowing.

      Jude frowned, but headed in the direction she indicated. Ten minutes later he pulled into the neighborhood behind the one where the house was located. She could cross the park behind this street and cut through to the street behind.