Sawyer watched Quinn as he stepped out of the police station. That blue plaid shirt looked good on him, it hugged his muscles. His brown hair blew back in the wind and she imagined how bright those hazel eyes were. The nighttime air cooled her, and she was grateful for the peacoat. The shirt and shorts Quinn brought didn’t provide much coverage.
Quinn crossed the street before meeting her gaze. He half smiled, straightening that crooked nose a bit. He held up a small square brown object and shook it. “Someone found my wallet and turned it in,” Quinn said. “That was all they got though.” Sawyer nodded. That meant someone stole her phone and wallet. At least this meant that they could afford shoes or a meal.
“Did you ask how to get to Oakfield?” Sawyer asked.
“Yes, ma’am, I did.”
