Identity Unknown by Terri Reed

blue eyes light up. His gaze drifted down her straight nose to her lush, full lips. He noticed the slight cleft in her chin that gave her face character.
    She rose and held out her hand. “Come on, I’ll show where you’ll be spending the next few hours.”
    He stared at her smooth skin and long, slender fingers before grasping her hand. Her fingers closed around his, and she tugged him to his feet. She was surprisingly strong, yet her hand felt almost delicate within his clasp. The dichotomy left him unnerved. He braced his feet apart. The room momentarily swerved then righted itself. Expecting her to let go, he loosened his hold, but for a fraction of a second she held on, her gaze fixated on their joined hands. Then she yanked her hand back and rested it on her utility belt. “This way.” She turned and walked briskly away.
    He rolled the tension from his shoulders and followed her.
    The cell wasn’t big by any means, but it was roomy enough and thankfully empty. He didn’t relish the idea of sharing the space.
    Audrey opened the door. “Sorry about this.”
    â€œDon’t be.” He stepped inside. “This is the safest place for me. No one can get hurt with me in here, and I’ll be able to rest without worry.”
    â€œI guess.” But she didn’t sound convinced. That was sweet. He liked that she was upset on his behalf. He wondered if anyone else had ever been upset on his behalf and if so, who?
    Needing to reassure her, he moved closer and reached out to tuck a stray strand of blond hair behind her ear. “Are you always so accommodating with your guests?”
    â€œNo. But these circumstances are a bit out of the ordinary.”
    His finger skimmed over her jaw before he dropped his hand. “I appreciate all you’re doing for me. You’re a very caring person, Deputy Martin.”
    He liked the way her cheeks took on a rosy color. “Audrey.”
    A grin tugged at his mouth. “Okay. Audrey. Such a pretty name for a pretty woman.”
    Her eyes widened a fraction, then something cold flashed in her gaze and she stepped back. “And you’re charming. A flirt.”
    Wary that he’d offended her, he said, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
    â€œIt’s been my experience that charming men aren’t to be trusted.”
    Had the man who hurt her been a boyfriend? “Don’t paint every man with the same brush as whoever hurt you.”
    She made a wry sound in her throat. “Easy for you to say. I don’t know you. I don’t know if I should trust you.”
    â€œBut you want to,” he observed, realizing how badly he wanted her to trust him. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have shared your lunch with me. You wouldn’t feel so bad for locking me up.”
    She frowned and pressed her lips into a straight line. He much preferred when she smiled.
    â€œIt’s okay,” he told her. “You shouldn’t trust me. I wouldn’t trust me.”
    â€œI want to release your photo to the media. See if someone comes forward to identify you.”
    â€œYou should. I’m guessing you already ran my prints and face through your databases.”
    â€œYes, with no results.”
    He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or more alarming. The thumping in his head intensified. His energy waned. He needed to sit before he fell down. But he didn’t want her to leave, which was exactly why he said, “I’m sure you have work to do. And I really need to rest.”
    She nodded. “I do. I’ll be checking on you every two hours.”
    â€œI look forward to it.”
    Without a word, she closed the cell door with a deafening click that echoed in his ears long after she walked away.
    * * *
    Night came faster than Audrey would have imagined, despite the fact that December in Maine the sun set around four in the afternoon. She switched on her desk lamp because