Page 9 of Protected By Duval
She smiled feeling as awkward as she’s ever felt.
“I just… I get fixated on anatomy, bones, really. The underpinnings of what most people see.”
He nodded and leaned toward the wheel slightly. “I get it.”
Did he?
She didn’t really know, but she was taking it at face value for the moment.
There really wasn’t a reason for him to lie to her, except to make her feel better.
And that was at least polite, right?
The car slowed and she heard the distinctive tick tick of a turn signal.
She sat back against her seat and looked at the world outside of the truck.
They weren’t turning onto a road.
They were turning into a driveway.
The fence and wooden sign bridging over the driveway looked like hundreds of other signs that she’d seen throughout her life.
This one said KING.
King.
Like McCrae King?
She turned to look at him. “Is this your house?”
He smiled and slowed the truck just beyond the sign. “Not mine. I grew up here, but I don’t live here now, although my mother grumps about it. This is an official request from the Texas Rangers.”
She nodded, slowly.
“At your family’s house.”
She watched him draw in a breath.
“I’m sorry,” she shifted in her seat, “it’s just a little… worrisome?”
“Worrisome,” he smiled at the word. “I haven’t heard that word in a long time.”
She frowned. “Is it a little old fashioned?”
He shrugged. “It’s just… different.”
She half scoffed and half snorted. “That’s the story of my life. Being different.”
“If you’re not comfortable coming up to the ranch, I can have another one of my team come out to meet us.”
Team.
She nodded. Not to agree with his offer, but just because she was processing.
He lifted his radio and spoke into it.
“West? I’m in the drive. Could you send someone out to the driveway to meet us?”
