Page 52 of Factory Thief

“On the left side, in front of the door. I’d say we could park in the garage, but it’s full at the moment.”

“Full of what?”

“On the left, we have a Shelby Cobra minus an engine—I’m waiting for my friend Kyla to come and fix it, she’s just incredible with cars—and on the right a Ford Range Rover. Don’t block the Rover.”

“Shelby Cobra?” His lips part in awe.

“Just the chassis, don’t get excited. There’s a lot of corrosion, to the point where, once Kyla will be finished with the restoration, it won’t officially be a classic car any longer.”

“I’m still impressed.”

His smile warms my soul as we head up the steps to my front porch. I yearn to tell him how I feel, but I’m afraid he doesn’t feel the same way.

True, Jack’s been super sweet to me ever since I rescued him on the bridge. Is that because he feels great affection toward me, or just gratitude? Is he picking up that I like him and trying to give me what he thinks I want because I saved his life?

“Well, this is it, my house,” I say, gesturing blandly at the front door. “Thanks for driving me home.”

“Oh, not a problem,” he says quickly, a nervous smile stretching his lips. “I mean, you broke me out of a maximum-security prison, driving you home seems like a cheap pay off.”

If only things flowed between us as naturally as they had in the sea cave. Now, it’s like we can’t stand to look at each other. The question which hangs on my lips seems doomed to remain unanswered.

I’d like to invite him inside. Every fiber of my being tells me I need to invite him inside. I just can’t, though. Not without being sure how he feels about me. Since Jack isn’t forthcoming, indeed just stands there staring at me in awkward silence, I guess I’m not going to ask him after all.

“Well, I ah…I should get going,” he says at last, letting us off the hook. Relief and profound disappointment wash over me. “I’ve got to try and put my life back together, you know? I’ve been away for so long. So many people thought I was a killer and cut ties with me. Now, I’ve got to try and patch things up.”

“I understand. Thanks again for driving me—”

The piercing chime of my cell phone interjects into our awkward moment. I scowl at the number, which I know is one of the dozen or so Andrew’s used in recent days.

“What is it, Andrew?” I put the call on speaker so Jack can hear.

“Hello, Victoria. Is Jack with you?”

“He’s right here.”

“Good, I only have to say this once. The police have officially cancelled the warrants for your arrest. It seems the jailhouse confession is holding up under professional scrutiny.”

“That’s good news,” I say with a sigh.

“The district attorney’s office had considered not dropping the escape from custody charges, but since they’re afraid Jack is going to sue the crap out of them for wrongful imprisonment, I don’t think they’ll be pursuing that course of action.”

Jack frowns. “So, I’m a free man?”

“Looks that way, kid, though I’d give it a while for all the legalities to shake out.”

“Then what about Victoria? Are the police still looking for her?”

“As it turns out, the woman they believed to be her on the surveillance footage appears to be someone else entirely. Funny how that works out.”

I grit my teeth and bite back a nasty retort. Funny, is it?

“I’d say thank you, Mr. Andrew,” Jack says in a sneering tone, “but under the circumstances I can’t quite muster the magnanimity.”

“Fair enough. Take care of yourselves.”

The call ends, leaving Jack and I, once again, mired in silence. “Well, Jack. I’m glad I was able to help you clear your name.”

Jack looks at me as if he wishes to say something more. His lips part, his jaw works silently, but no sound comes out.

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