Lethal (Lee Coburn)

“Ask who?” Coburn wanted to know.

“My current beau.”

“No. Nobody can know where you are.”

“He wouldn’t tell.”

“Yeah, he would. If the right people got to him, he’d tell.”

He said it with such conviction that even Tori was daunted by what he implied. “We’ll pool our resources and make do.”

He appeared satisfied with that, but stressed that Honor and Emily must get into hiding before being spotted.

“Gotcha,” Tori said. “No one would know to look for me in this car.” Then her expression clouded. “The only person I worry about is Stan. If he tries to contact me again, and I don’t respond, he’ll smell a rat. I would be the logical person that Honor would come to for help.”

“He may figure out that she’s with you, but he can’t know where,” Coburn said.

Tori turned to Honor. “That’s okay with you? There’s no love lost between him and me, but the man is beside himself with worry over you and Em.”

“I know it seems cruel to keep him in the dark.” Honor glanced over at Coburn, but saw no softening of his resolve. “But that’s how it’s got to be. For a little while longer at least.”

“You have your reasons,” Tori said. “But I dread the showdown when Stan finds out that I provided the wheels when you ran away from home.”

“I’m not going with you.”

Honor’s declaration startled Tori speechless. Coburn was more outspoken. “The fuck you’re not.”

She had been silently debating this with herself and had come to the conclusion that she couldn’t just dust her hands of this, which would be the safe and practical thing to do. It had occurred to her, not in one blinding instant of enlightenment but gradually over the past couple of days, that she was done with being safe and practical.

Since Eddie’s death, she often had resented Stan’s interference in her life, but she’d done nothing to discourage it. She had allowed him and others to protect her, to shepherd her through rough times, and to oversee her decisions as though she was a child who needed constant guidance.

She’d had much more independence when she was married. Eddie had regarded her as an equal, a woman who was allowed and, indeed, encouraged to form her own opinions and to act on her decisions.

Widowhood had fettered her. It had made her insecure and cautious, afraid to relocate, or explore employment options, or to do anything other than remain in a rut comfortably lined with memories of her happy past. Stan’s supervision had fostered her timidity. She didn’t like this woman she was now. She missed the more confident Honor Gillette that she had been.

Squaring off against Coburn, she said, “I’m not going to let you just brush me off.”

“Not going to let me? Watch, lady.”

“You’re the one who dragged me into this.”

“I didn’t have a choice then. Now I do.”

“So do I.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. My choice is the only one that counts, and I choose for you to go with your friend here.”

“I’m going to see this through, Coburn.”

“You could get killed.” He pointed toward Emily where she was still playing with her stick. “You want to leave her an orphan?”

“You know better than to ask that,” she shot back angrily. “But this time I won’t be cowed or coerced. I want answers to the questions about Eddie.”

“I’ll get them for you.”

“That’s just it. I need to get them.”

“Not your job.”