transparent?”
“More than. Besides, if you do happen to find her again, it’ll be long after your sister is out of this city. Once that happens, even the Captain doesn’t know where they go.”
Another silence, while Sam took a short exit ramp to the city’s inner loop, four constantly shifting lanes of left-and right-hand exits that took great familiarity to navigate with any efficiency even with the paucity of cars on the road at this time of night. Then Jethro said, “That’s twice now. My sister. You believe me now?”
“I’m staking my work with the underground on it.” The Captain would shun her if Jethro turned out to be Lizbet’s ex.
The Captain might well shun her anyway. She should have left him in that hospital parking lot to call himself a cab and spend the rest of his life wondering where Lizbet had gone.
“Why do you do it?” he asked abruptly. “Help them?”
She looked at him in surprise. Why? Maybe because these women were doing what she’d never really been able to do—risk everything to find themselves. True, they had incentive she’d never encountered. She’d always been a little too comfortable with her life, even when she felt she never truly knew herself or what she wanted. She’d never quite found the wherewithal to leave behind what she knew in an effort to find out what she didn’t.
As if she was going to say those words to this man. So she said simply, “Because I can,” which was also true—and also what she often told herself.
“Why’s that?”
She glanced at him, a truly bemused look. “You never give up, do you? Are you sure you’re not a reporter?”
He grinned, an engaging combination with that mustache. “Just a humble silk-screening man,” he said. “A curious one. Why can you? What is it you can bring to them that no one else does?”
“What would you do if the answer was ‘nothing’?”
He gave it a moment’s thought. “I wouldn’t believe it.”
“Why not?” She turned the tables on him just to be doing it.
“Because of the way your voice sounded when you said that. Because I can. That meant something.”
Chapter 4
S am almost stopped the car to look at him, surprised at the depth of his perception. Instead she found the exit she wanted and shot onto a street full of blinking construction sawhorses and signs, taking the curves of the rerouted street at a speed much faster than the posted limit. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll give you that. I work with a private investigator. I have the training to keep an eye on that house and to know who and what might be trouble. I can’t believe I missed that van.” And she could hardly tell him why. She could hardly say she’d been distracted by him, that she’d been the one dogging his footsteps these past two nights. She didn’t give him the time to ask. More turning the tables. “Now you tell me. We hardly ever get family members hunting up our refugees. Husbands and boyfriends, yes. Brothers, no. Why are you so determined to find your sister?”
He hesitated, and she sensed it wasn’t out of reluctance, but in an effort to find the right words. Then he shrugged and said, “Because I should. ”
She looked at him, a quick glance as a streetlight flashed overhead. He meant it. And she might push for details, but for now she had what was important. The worry in his voice. The sense of connection behindthose words. Maybe she’d done the right thing after all, opening that car door for him.
Or maybe not. But she’d done it, and now they headed straight for one of the very secrets she wasn’t supposed to know, and certainly wasn’t ever supposed to tell. She glanced at him again, found him watching her…suppressed that frisson of awareness that he could somehow see through her. Literally, right through her guises.
He couldn’t. No one ever had. But there was his camera, snugged against the seat and the center console of the car, and while she’d been caught on the fringes of a
“More than. Besides, if you do happen to find her again, it’ll be long after your sister is out of this city. Once that happens, even the Captain doesn’t know where they go.”
Another silence, while Sam took a short exit ramp to the city’s inner loop, four constantly shifting lanes of left-and right-hand exits that took great familiarity to navigate with any efficiency even with the paucity of cars on the road at this time of night. Then Jethro said, “That’s twice now. My sister. You believe me now?”
“I’m staking my work with the underground on it.” The Captain would shun her if Jethro turned out to be Lizbet’s ex.
The Captain might well shun her anyway. She should have left him in that hospital parking lot to call himself a cab and spend the rest of his life wondering where Lizbet had gone.
“Why do you do it?” he asked abruptly. “Help them?”
She looked at him in surprise. Why? Maybe because these women were doing what she’d never really been able to do—risk everything to find themselves. True, they had incentive she’d never encountered. She’d always been a little too comfortable with her life, even when she felt she never truly knew herself or what she wanted. She’d never quite found the wherewithal to leave behind what she knew in an effort to find out what she didn’t.
As if she was going to say those words to this man. So she said simply, “Because I can,” which was also true—and also what she often told herself.
“Why’s that?”
She glanced at him, a truly bemused look. “You never give up, do you? Are you sure you’re not a reporter?”
He grinned, an engaging combination with that mustache. “Just a humble silk-screening man,” he said. “A curious one. Why can you? What is it you can bring to them that no one else does?”
“What would you do if the answer was ‘nothing’?”
He gave it a moment’s thought. “I wouldn’t believe it.”
“Why not?” She turned the tables on him just to be doing it.
“Because of the way your voice sounded when you said that. Because I can. That meant something.”
Chapter 4
S am almost stopped the car to look at him, surprised at the depth of his perception. Instead she found the exit she wanted and shot onto a street full of blinking construction sawhorses and signs, taking the curves of the rerouted street at a speed much faster than the posted limit. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll give you that. I work with a private investigator. I have the training to keep an eye on that house and to know who and what might be trouble. I can’t believe I missed that van.” And she could hardly tell him why. She could hardly say she’d been distracted by him, that she’d been the one dogging his footsteps these past two nights. She didn’t give him the time to ask. More turning the tables. “Now you tell me. We hardly ever get family members hunting up our refugees. Husbands and boyfriends, yes. Brothers, no. Why are you so determined to find your sister?”
He hesitated, and she sensed it wasn’t out of reluctance, but in an effort to find the right words. Then he shrugged and said, “Because I should. ”
She looked at him, a quick glance as a streetlight flashed overhead. He meant it. And she might push for details, but for now she had what was important. The worry in his voice. The sense of connection behindthose words. Maybe she’d done the right thing after all, opening that car door for him.
Or maybe not. But she’d done it, and now they headed straight for one of the very secrets she wasn’t supposed to know, and certainly wasn’t ever supposed to tell. She glanced at him again, found him watching her…suppressed that frisson of awareness that he could somehow see through her. Literally, right through her guises.
He couldn’t. No one ever had. But there was his camera, snugged against the seat and the center console of the car, and while she’d been caught on the fringes of a
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