"Towels," I say, impressed. We've found a room in a nice house at the outskirts of town with a bathroom stocked with lots of fluffy white towels and sheets on the bed. Clean and pretty.
Finally relaxed, I take my first deep breath since I blacked out in my bar. Safe. But then a kernel of worry nips at my brain.
"What if the kidnappers find us? It probably wouldn't be hard," I say.
"They would have found us already, if they're looking. I think we're more trouble than we're worth."
It's a reasonable theory, and I'm tired enough to accept it. Hank surprises me by letting me take a shower, alone. I was sure he was going to jump my bones the second we got in the room, but he's being gentle with me. Or maybe he's just tired, too.
Either way, he's behaving out of character. He's nothing like
