Josie coughed out a laugh. “Funny. Very funny.”
Tom stood back to study her face, and she studied his. Deep brown eyes glowed his concern, while the slight lines that fanned out from them marked a guy who laughed often. Full lips quirked in worry, and his light brown hair was ruffled, as if he’d been running his hands through it. His torn jeans covered toned muscle, and broad shoulders filled out his flannel. Funny, she hadn’t realized Tom was as tall as Shane. Nobody seemed as big and powerful as her husband. She was so screwed up. A long shiver escaped her.
“You’re cold.” Tom eyed the room and put an arm around her shoulder as he focused on Malloy. “Is she free to leave?”
“Has Detective Connelly finished with your statement?” Malloy asked.
“Statement?” Josie squinted her eyes up at Tom.
“Yes.” Tom smoothed a hair off her face. “I came to get you, and they asked me some questions. Where I’ve been the last few days, how long I’ve known you, if I have a camera.” He grinned ruefully at the final query.
Josie rounded on the cop, her breath heating. “You questioned my friend?”
Tom tugged her purse strap up her arm. “I assume it’s normal, and I had no problem answering the questions. Let’s help the police figure this out.”
Malloy nodded. “We’d appreciate that.”
Tom led her to the exit. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”
Safe? Safety was an illusion. She eyed Tom’s tousled hair and straight features. So different from Shane’s rugged ones. She shivered and Tom tightened his hold.
“I can put you somewhere safe, Mrs. Dean,” Detective Malloy said.
“You should let the police help.” Tom rubbed her shoulder.
“I’m not hiding.” Her voice trembled and she straightened her posture. She deserved answers, and she’d get them. Besides, something deep down whispered that the police couldn’t hide her from Shane. He had skills none of them had realized. So she needed to be ready when he showed up again. And she needed to warn Tom.
Malloy nodded. “I have your contact information, Mrs. Dean. We’ll be in touch.”
They hurried out of the station. The fall sunshine failed to warm her face as Tom hustled her toward his battered truck. A scratched tool box stretched across the front of the bed, holding all of the tools Tom had brought from Texas.
The hair on the back of her neck rose. Her body instinctively stilled. She glanced around the parking lot. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No eyes on her. But she jumped into the front seat and leaned against the clean material with a sigh.
Tom loped around the front, stepped inside, and started the engine to pull away from the station. “So. What a mess, huh?” His dimples flashed.
Josie shook her head. Leave it to Tom to try and cheer her up. “You could say that.”
“How about we drive somewhere safe? Anywhere you want to go.” Tom aimed them at the interstate toward his home outside of town.
“I’m tempted, but can’t. You know I have that audit all next week.” The books weren’t adding up at work, a fact that should be consuming her. While she’d fixed one account, she had several more to check. Plus, she’d had to start at the bottom of the Washington branch when she’d moved from California. She was a good CPA. No way was she letting Shane Dean screw up her job or her life. Not again. Besides, deep down, she knew he’d find her. No matter what.
They drove in silence for a while. Tom finally took the east exit, winding around the lake toward his home.
“I don’t suppose he signed the divorce papers before you found out Dean was a stalker.” Work-roughened hands tightened on the steering wheel, but Tom’s voice remained steady as he stopped in the driveway and pressed the garage door button.
She huffed out a breath. “That would make life too easy. I’m so sorry.” None of this was fair to him. One day in Shane’s world and she’d almost slept with him. He’d taken her heart three years ago, and she wasn’t getting it back. “I’ve really screwed things up this time.” She had no idea what Shane was up to, why he’d been watching her. But even now part of her hoped for a good explanation. She loved him. “I’m such a fool.”
Tom waited for the automatic garage door to rise. “We’ll figure this out, Josie. I promise.”
His tone was soft and gentle, and she’d heard him use it before while on the phone. She grinned. “You’re using your ‘I’m dealing with my younger sisters’ voice right now.”
He started, his eyes sparkling. “I have a voice with my sisters?”
Oh yeah. As the older brother to what sounded like three wild younger sisters, he had a tone he used. “I’ve listened to you talking to them on the phone. Last month when Sylvia wanted to drop her business major and study ceramic pottery, you really used the voice.”