Not that I had a clue what that was. I should be looking for a cop, distancing myself from Owen, but I had agreed to let him help me and besides I had nothing with me; no money, no passport, no cell phone. Nothing. Everything was in my purse, back in the car that killed Mr. Song. I wasn’t sure I could even remember Tess’s new phone number. I mean, who bothered memorizing phone numbers anymore? And surely the police had gotten to Song by now. They would go through my purse and call out to all of the officers to start looking for the American with torn stockings, blue eyes, and brown hair.
I was so screwed. Right now my entire life hinged on the guy driving this stolen car—on what he decided to do next. And I wasn’t exactly comfortable with that. But my options were limited. Very limited. I sighed.
“What’s in Oxford?” We passed a small sign with the city name.
“My house.” He cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter. “A safe house.”
His house or a safe house? And was I really okay with going to a strange house with him? Did I have a choice?
“What are we going to do there?”
“After I have my way with you I think I’ll order pizza and catch a game.”
My mouth fell open and for a minute my stomach did all sorts of flips. When he saw my expression his lips pulled back into a wide grin and I felt my cheeks heat.
“Very funny,” I said, but he only laughed.
Though I didn’t want to admit it, for a moment I’d hoped he was serious. It had been almost a year since I’d rolled around in the sheets with someone other than George, my battery operated toy.
“I told you I wasn’t going to kill you.” A deep chuckle filled the car.
“You’re an ass.”
“And you’re disappointed I wasn’t serious.” His smirk made me itch to hit him again.
“You wish.” You wish? Was that the best I could come up with?
“We need to figure out why someone is trying to kill you and what we can do about it.” He glanced at me slyly. “Then if you want…”
“You know, maybe after the pizza...” I raised one eyebrow. His eyes darted down to my mouth then slowly back up to meet my gaze. “We could discuss strategy. I’m starving.”
He smiled slowly and looked back at the road. Ha. Score one for me. He wasn’t the only one who could play that game.
I tried to pay attention to landmarks as we drove through town. The last thing I wanted was to be completely lost. There were lots of little storefronts, old buildings, and students meandering through the streets. If I wasn’t worried about someone trying to kill me I would have had a blast poking through the old shops and bookstores.
“What is that?” I pointed at a row of houses. One of them seemed to have a giant fish sticking out of the roof like a missile that hadn’t detonated.
“A shark.” Owen chuckled.
“Why is there a giant shark sticking out of that roof?” I shook my head.
“An expression of outrage about nuclear issues.” He shrugged and I leaned back in my seat. “The city tried to have it removed but failed.”
“It adds a certain amount of charm, don’t you think?” I wished I had my camera. A shark sticking out of a roof would make a fun picture. Of course, my camera was back in Tess’s apartment, which was probably being combed by officers wearing latex gloves and searching for fingerprints.
“It’s certainly eye catching.” His shoulders seemed to relax, even though I hadn’t realized that he was carrying tension in them. Part of me wondered if he ever rode around with someone, just talking.
“What else is there to see in Oxford?” I wanted to keep him talking, see him unwind even more. If nothing else, it made me feel more relaxed.
“Museums, the Carfax tower, the Bridge of Sighs.” He rattled off the list as he made a turn down a narrow lane.
“The Bridge of Sighs?” I smiled. “That sounds romantic.”
“It’s very similar to the bridges you find in Venice, but that’s as romantic as it gets.” Laughter lit his eyes as he talked. “It’s not far from the Turf.”
“The Turf? Turf as in grass?”
“As in Turf Tavern. It’s near the colleges. A lot of the students gather there. Always a good time. Or good trouble.” A note in his voice caught my attention. Pride?
“You grew up here?” I offered the guess. It was definitely not just a safe house that we were going to.
“For a while.” It was like a metal door dropped down and his chipper attitude dissipated in a cloud of smoke.
I didn’t ask anything else as we drove through town. Curiosity raged inside me, demanding to know what would shut him down so quickly, but I knew better than to push for any answers. It didn’t take a psychology degree to see he had some serious issues. Could you be an assassin without some kind of baggage? I seriously doubted it.
Eventually the buildings of town thinned out and we turned down a small country lane that wound through bushes and trees. A small cottage sat nestled amongst the brush. The red door was a little dingy, but the cottage looked to be in good shape otherwise. We climbed out of the car and I stood there looking around the small clearing.
Owen knelt down in front of the Land Rover and used a knife to remove the license plate. I watched, not sure what else I should do.
“Come on.” Owen opened the door for me, waiting for me to go inside. I squeezed past him, conscious of how close we were.