Page 79 of Chill Factor

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“Are you hungry?” she asked.

“My stomach’s been growling.”

“I’ll bring you something.”

“Coffee?”

“Okay.”

“It’ll have to count for a ration of water.”

Always the Boy Scout. Ever prepared.

Five minutes later she returned to the bedroom with a mug of fresh coffee and a plate of crackers spread with peanut butter, staples they had brought with them from her car.

She said, “I left the pistol, along with the key to the handcuffs, in the living room.” She moved aside so he could look past her to the end table. “If you’re thinking about burning me with the coffee, or pinning me down with your legs, or overpowering me in any way, it won’t do you any good. You still couldn’t get to the gun or the key.”

“Very clever.”

Setting the coffee and the plate on the floor, she unwound the scarf from around her neck and tossed it far out of reach.

He frowned at her. “Have I just been insulted?”

“You could use it as a weapon.”

“Strangling you wouldn’t be very smart, would it? You’d be dead, and I’d be helplessly handcuffed.”

“I’m taking no chances.”

“Why were you wearing my scarf?”

“Can you handle the mug?”

“I’ll try. Can’t promise not to dribble. Why were you wearing my scarf?”

“For warmth, Tierney. No other reason. I don’t want to go steady.”

She placed the mug between his hands. He folded his fingers around it, then lowered his head to it and took a sip. “I guess it’s a good thing my hands aren’t at waist level after all. I couldn’t eat or drink if they were

.”

“I wouldn’t let you starve or die of thirst.”

“You’re a kind jailer, Lilly. Not into cruel and unusual punishment. Although.” He waited until he was sure he had her full attention before saying, “It’ll be pretty damn cruel if you die on me.”

“I don’t plan to.”

“See that you don’t.”

His voice had meaning behind it. So did the way he was looking at her. She resisted both. “Ready for your crackers?”

“I’ll finish my coffee first.”

She backed away and sat down in the rocking chair a safe distance from the bed, keeping her head averted.

“Did Dutch talk to you often about the missing persons cases?”

Surprised by the question, she looked at him sharply.


Tags: Sandra Brown Mystery