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headlights, she headed north.

CHAPTER THREE
    F OOD HELPED . Closing his eyes while the bride drove was his only choice. If he’d still been a traffic cop, he would have pulled her over and lectured the hell out of her. Right now, as she said, kidnappers couldn’t be choosers, and anyone who bandaged him up and bought him a grilled chicken sandwich and an eggnog milk shake was entitled to drive any damned way she pleased. As long as he didn’t have to watch.
    The Christmas music was still coming from the radio, and almost every damned song seemed to have sleigh bells in it. The sound was making his head throb, but she hadn’t responded well to his suggestion that they turn off the radio. So he’d closed his eyes and endured, letting the memories play around inside his head.
    He’d known something wasn’t right for months. He’d never trusted Connor O’Bannion, and neither had Fitz’s first partner, Spinelli, but for some reason O’Bannion and Tommy Morrissey, Fitz’s second cousin, had suddenly become as thick as thieves, and Fitz couldn’t figure out why. Or why his current partner, Grady Barber, had become more and more sullen. Not that that was much of a change from Barber’s usual mood. Someone had paired the two of them together, probably O’Bannion. Fitz was supposed to keep an eye on Barber, but now he was thinking that it might have been theother way around. Grady had a brutal reputation and pairing him up with Jimmy Fitzpatrick had supposedly been the last step before being kicked off the force.
    He was off the force for good now. Fitz had great instincts—they’d saved his life more than once, and they’d saved it a few hours ago when Grady had shot at him. He’d sensed the tension in the air, moved fast and avoided being shot in the head, dropping Grady with a bullet to the throat. He’d bled out as Fitz reached him, and even as he held his dying partner, Tommy Morrissey had emerged from the shadows, gun in hand. Tommy never could shoot straight—he’d only managed to wing him as Fitz dove out the window. Under the circumstances there was nothing he could do but run.
    He turned his head to look at the bride. “Why did you decide to believe me?”
    â€œI found your badge and your wallet.” She turned the windshield wipers on to brush the gathering snow away. “I figured you were telling the truth. And if you were, turning you in would get you killed, and I didn’t want that on my conscience. I’m supposed to heal people, not deliver them to their executioners.”
    â€œI could be a dirty cop. Maybe I shot my partner because he found out I was part of a jewel heist.”
    â€œMaybe,” she said. “Why don’t you explain it to me?”
    He was still trying to work it out in his own mind, what the hell had happened to people he’d known all his life. “I can boil it down to three sentences. The way I see it, my boss got word of a major diamond theft going down. The cops interfered, killed the thief and took the diamonds for themselves. I found out, so they framed me and they’re trying to kill me before I can find proof. That clear enough?”
    â€œCrystal,” she said, switching the wipers on to a higher speed. “So what’s our timetable?”
    He stared at her. “Lady, you’re out of your mind. You need to drop me off in the next town, and I’ll steal another car. If you feel so moved, you could fail to tell the police about being kidnapped and your car being stolen, but that’s up to you.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œNo, what?”
    â€œI’m not dropping you off anywhere.” She sounded maddeningly practical. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until I know you’re not going to keel over from loss of blood. You should probably have a transfusion, but that would involve going to a hospital and I don’t think