Wild Justice (Nadia Stafford 3)

"Wouldn't mind a walk," he said. "Stretch my legs."

"Absolutely."

"Saw a sign for a park. 'Bout five miles."

"We'll stop there."

A couple minutes of silence. "Want to talk, too. Some stuff. That okay?"

I smiled. "I am always up for talking."

"More like listening."

"I can do that, too."

We pulled in at the park. It was a small one, unmanned, with signs warning it was closed at night. Dusk was still a couple of hours away, but the tiny lot was already empty.

We parked and headed in.

"Don't really need the walk," Jack said as we reached the path. "Just wanted to talk. Not in the car."

"Okay."

He lapsed into silence. We walked about half a kilometer before he continued.

"Was thinking. About our talk earlier. Your lodge. Me having money. Got me thinking. I know about you. Where you live. How you live. You don't know that about me."

"Not for lack of interest, Jack. If you wanted to tell me, I figured you would, and if you didn't, I sure as hell wasn't going to pry."

"Ask then."

I hesitated, but I could tell he seriously wanted me to ask. "Okay, where do you live when you're not on the road? You've got a house somewhere, I presume. A condo or something."

"Nope. Got mailing addresses. Couple post boxes, here and there. Otherwise? Nothing. No house. No apartment. Not even a fucking car. Between jobs? Find a place to stay. Motel usually. Sublet sometimes."

"How long have you been doing that?"

"Always. Never saw the point of owning. Leaves a paper trail. I travel too much anyway. No reason to stay in one place."

"So you've never been married, I take it?"

He gave me a look.

"Hey, it's a perfectly valid question. I take it that's a no. Any kids?"

Another look. "I would have mentioned that."

I met his gaze. "There were times when, for all I knew, you had a wife, kids, a house in the suburbs and a day job in Connecticut. Yes, I was pretty sure you didn't, but it wasn't outside the realm of possibility."

He nodded. "Should have said more."

"No, I understood the need for privacy. Now, though, I will ask, and if there's anything you don't want to share, just say so."

"There's nothing. You want to know? I'll tell you." A few more steps in silence. "So, don't have a house. Or car. Got a few storage lockers. Mostly equipment. Clothing? Buy it as I go. Don't really have things. Just money. No bad habits to spend it on. Don't gamble. Don't use drugs. Don't drink much. Worst habit? Damn cigarettes. Maybe a pack a week. Doesn't exactly make a dent in my savings."

"No, I imagine it doesn't. And I don't think I've seen you smoke one in a few days."

"Yeah. Might be wishing for one in a minute." He cleared his throat. "Asked if I've ever been married. Fuck no. Said before about relationships. Don't do 'em. Should explain better. Don't really want to."