Chapter 5 #2
"I'm seven feet tall and green. Yeah, I get it."
"Exactly. So you're staying—"
"In the car. Got it." He sighed. "This is going to be fun."
The Walmart appeared like an oasis of fluorescent light in the darkness, its massive parking lot mostly empty at this hour. I pulled into a spot near the back, away from the entrance and the security cameras.
"Okay," I said, turning to face him. "I need you to scooch down. Get low in the seat."
Kael stared at me. "Scooch down?"
"Yes. Scooch."
"Have you noticed how big I am?"
"Yes, Kael, I've noticed." Heat crept up my neck. "Just—try, okay? Lean the seat back and—"
"I'm seven feet tall." He gestured at himself, at the way his knees were already pressed against the dashboard despite the seat being pushed all the way back. "There's no 'scooching down.' I don't scooch."
"Well, you're going to have to learn." I bit back a grin. "You need to stay out of sight."
"Right. Because a seven-foot Orc can just disappear in a Jeep."
"You're being difficult."
"I'm being realistic."
He let out a long-suffering sigh but reclined the seat as far as it would go, which wasn't far enough. His head still stuck up above the headrest, and his shoulders were too broad to hide behind anything.
I popped the back hatch and rummaged around until I found an old blanket—the scratchy wool one my mom had insisted I keep for emergencies. I brought it back to the passenger side and opened the door.
"What's that for?" Kael asked suspiciously.
"Camouflage." I draped the blanket over him, tucking it around his shoulders and pulling it up over his head. "If anyone walks by, they'll just see someone sleeping."
"This is ridiculous."
"This is necessary." I adjusted the blanket so it covered his distinctive gray-green skin and the slight points of his ears. "Just stay still and don't draw attention to yourself."
"I'm a seven-foot Orc covered in a blanket in a Walmart parking lot at three in the morning," he said, his voice muffled by the wool. "I'm the definition of attention-drawing."
"Then be a very quiet, very still definition." I stepped back and assessed my work. He looked like a lumpy pile of laundry, which was probably the best I could hope for. "I'll be back in twenty minutes. Don't move. Don't talk to anyone. Don't—"
"Don't breathe too loudly, don't blink suspiciously, don't exist too hard. I got it."
"I'm serious, Kael."
"So am I." The blanket shifted as he settled deeper into the seat. "Go. Get your supplies. I'll be here, being a good little fugitive."
I locked the car and headed toward the entrance, glancing back once to make sure he was still hidden. The blanket-covered lump in my passenger seat looked absurd, but it would have to do.
Walmart was nearly deserted, just a few night-shift workers restocking shelves and a tired-looking cashier scrolling through her phone. I grabbed a cart and started moving through the aisles, trying not to think too hard about what I was doing.
Buying supplies to hide a fugitive. Aiding and abetting. Obstruction of justice.
I pushed the thoughts away and focused on the task at hand.
Food first. Non-perishables that wouldn't require much cooking. Canned soup, crackers, peanut butter, bread, eggs, bacon, lunch meat, cheese. I threw in some apples and bananas, a bag of chips, a box of granola bars. Coffee—definitely coffee. I grabbed the largest container they had.
Then clothes. I headed to the men's section and started pulling items off the racks.
A couple of t-shirts in the largest size they had, though I suspected they'd still be tight across Kael's chest. A hoodie—the biggest one I could find, black and nondescript.
I held it up and tried to imagine it fitting over those broad shoulders.
Pants were next, and I stood in front of the display for a long moment, trying to estimate his size. My eyes drifted down, remembering the way his pants had fit earlier—snug across muscular thighs, tight over his—
I grabbed a pair of the largest sweats they had and threw them in the cart before my brain could finish that thought.
There was nothing in Walmart that would fit those thighs anyway, I told myself firmly. Or that ass.
My face was burning as I moved to the toiletries section. Toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorant, soap. The basics. I wasn't planning on us being at the cabin long—just five days, until Dr. Atkins released his report—but we needed to be prepared.
I grabbed a couple of changes of clothing for myself along with underwear. Nothing fancy, the kind of stuff grandma would wear, although my eyes did catch on a lacy red bra and panty set and the thought of how Kael would like it flickered through my mind before I could stop it.
I shoved the thought away with more force than necessary, grabbing a sensible three-pack of cotton briefs.
This was exactly the kind of bullshit I didn't need right now.
I'd always found Kael attractive—had from the first moment I'd seen him, all brooding intensity and sharp cheekbones—and it pissed me off to no end.
I didn't have time for this. Didn't have the energy to waste on some inconvenient attraction to a client who was currently wanted for murder.
I had a career to salvage, a case to win, and a corrupt police chief to outmaneuver. The last thing I needed was my traitorous brain conjuring up images of Kael's reaction to red lace, or the way his eyes might darken, or those large hands reaching for—
"Get it together, Sarah," I muttered under my breath, earning a strange look from a woman comparing pajama prices nearby.
I turned away from the lingerie display and headed toward the checkout with determined steps, my jaw set. Five days in a cabin alone with him. Five days of keeping things strictly professional while my traitorous body apparently had other ideas.
This was going to be a nightmare.
At the checkout, I used my debit card without hesitation.
Dawson didn't have the capability to track my finances.
He'd have to reach out to the feds for that, and even then, it would take time.
Franklin was a small town, and the police station was still using computers from 2010.
Sure, he could call in the state police for help, but I was betting we'd have the medical examiner's report before he could mobilize that kind of resource.
The cashier barely looked at me as she scanned my items, her movements mechanical and bored. I paid, grabbed my bags, and headed back out into the parking lot.
But I needed to do one more thing first.