Witness In Hiding. Lisa Phillips

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      “It’s very tight. I’m not sure...” She went quiet for a second. “I did it!”

      “Good,” he said. Half his attention was on the backseat, but he didn’t hear anything else from that direction. “It’s still broken, but at least you’re not leaking water anymore. I’ll come by first thing in the morning and check it out.” Hopefully it would be an easy problem, like a worn-down washer.

      “Thank you, honey.”

      “No problem, Mrs. McAffrey.” Jude hung up and pulled into a parking space. He got out of the car and drew his weapon, stepped to the back door and yanked it open.

      The redhead with green eyes sat in the foot well behind the driver’s seat, one hand over her mouth as tears streamed down her face. Zoe took a breath, let go of her mouth and burst out laughing. “That was hilarious. That old woman totally bamboozled you.” She seemed on the verge of hysterics.

      “Get out of my car.”

      Even though she was laughing uncontrollably and tears still rolled down her face, she shook her head. She clambered onto the backseat and shifted away from him at the same time, the duffel over one shoulder so that it bunched against the backrest and lifted her elbow that lay on it.

      “Don’t get out the other side.” If she ran again, he’d have to chase her.

      She leaned forward. That was the moment Jude knew she’d completely lost it. The hysterical laughing turned to hysterical crying and lasted long enough for Jude to child lock the rear doors on both sides before shutting her in. Then he got back in the front seat and pulled the wad of coffee house napkins from the glove box. “Here.”

      She looked at him. She was still pretty, but this might be what his sister called ugly crying. He didn’t put his weapon away, but he did wait until she had pulled herself together before he said, “Why are you in my car?”

      Zoe shook her head. Her hair snagged under the strap of the duffel on her shoulder and...shifted. Jude blinked before he realized what was happening. “You’re wearing a wig?”

      She blew out a breath and pulled the long, gorgeous red hair from her head. Shame. Still, the dark hair pinned against her head wasn’t unappealing. Those eyes though...

      Wait. Was she wearing colored contacts? Maybe everything that drew him to her was fake. Jude’s stomach churned at the idea he’d been duped. This beautiful, innocent-seeming woman was clearly a fraud. He’d been right to be suspicious, and now he was harboring a criminal.

      “What do you want, Zoe? Or is that even your real name?” He didn’t like the hard edge to his voice, but what did she expect after she lied to him? At least she had the decency to wince. Jude was out of patience. “Either start talking or get out.” A thought occurred to him. “You ran out of the Laundromat. You left. You could have gotten away clean. Why are you in my car? And how did you get in it without being seen, since those cops pulled up right beside it?”

      “They were inside,” she said. “They didn’t see me, and neither did anyone else.” Why did it seem like she didn’t know if that was good or bad?

      “You should’ve stayed and talked to the cops. They need your statement.”

      She shook her head then, and a fresh tear rolled down her face. “I can’t talk to the cops.”

      “You witnessed a crime.”

      “That doesn’t mean I have to testify. They can’t make me if I don’t want to tell them anything.”

      Jude frowned. Why was she in his car if she didn’t want to talk to the cops? He was law enforcement. “Sure, they can’t force you to say anything, but isn’t the right thing to tell them what you know? It could help catch that guy.”

      Her gaze flicked away.

      “He knew you.” When she didn’t say anything, Jude said, “He used your name.”

      * * *

      He had. And this man, Secret Service agent Jude Brauer, had heard it. When she’d run out the back door she’d only gone two steps before she ducked to the side and hid behind the Dumpster. If movies were to be trusted, Jude would run past her, expecting her to be ahead of him. Hardly anyone thought to check right where the chase started.

      And so she’d hidden, the same way she’d been hiding for three weeks now—right under their noses.

      Zoe should be miles away by now, but 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?”

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