Free Killing Time by Linda Howard Page A

originally, but I went to college in Washington State, and I’ve worked in several different states.” Again, that was the truth, and in this case the complete truth.
    “That makes for quite a blend.”
    “It does,” she agreed. “And you?” He was the one who had asked the first personal question, so she felt free to come back with her own.
    “I’ve lived here since I was a kid. I was born in Lexington, but we moved here when my mother died.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said with instant sympathy. “That’s so hard on a child.”
    “Pretty tough. I was six.”
    “Did your father remarry?”
    “Not until I was grown and gone.”
    “Where did you go?”
    “To college, specifically, but the expression means I was old enough to leave home.” His tone was neutral, but his gaze bored into her.
    The colloquialisms were tripping her up, which was frustrating because the language was what she had studied most, enjoyed, and the area where she had felt most confident. McElroy had run into this, too, but his risk had been minimized because he hadn’t had any contact with the local law enforcement, trying instead to be as unobtrusive as possible. Maybe his had been the better idea, but it was too late for her to worry about that now.
    “Why don’t you follow me back to the office?” he asked. “We can go over the file on the Allen case.”
    Instinct warred with dedication. She suspected he wanted her close at hand until he heard back about the inquiry into her status that he was certain to make, if he hadn’t already done so, but at the same time she needed to see that file. She decided to take the risk, and trust that she’d be able to get herself out of any difficulty that might arise.
    “Sure,” she said. “Could we pick up something to eat on the way? I skipped breakfast this morning.”
     
    If she was FBI, Knox thought, he’d eat his badge.
    The clothes were right: conservative, not too costly. She’d handled her weapon in the approved manner, and she was quick and bright. Most cops might not like dealing with the feds, but overall the ones Knox had met were smart people. Assholes, some of them, but bright assholes.
    Maybe it was because she wasn’t uptight enough. She had an open, friendly face and an easy smile, one that invited you to smile in return, and she was remarkably relaxed on procedure. No fed he’d ever known was very relaxed about anything.
    Then there was the communication thing. A few times he’d felt as if they were talking about different subjects completely, but then he’d noticed that where things went astray was when he used slang or idioms, and she would take him literally. Every section of the country had its own version of dialect, but “white hat” wasn’t particular to the south. It was almost as if she weren’t even American, but someone who had intensely studied standard English as a second language. This last possibility was what made his inner alarm jangle.
    She could be from anywhere; there was no one ethnic look that he could say applied to her. She had glossy, dark brown hair that grew in a widow’s peak from her forehead, big brown eyes, a wide, soft mouth, and even white teeth that definitely looked American. Braces, fluoride, nutrition, and regular visits to the dentist produced teeth like that. She wore very subtle makeup, and highlighted streaks fell on each side of the slightly off-center part in her hair.
    She wasn’t Middle Eastern, he thought, or Slavic. There was a warm tone to her skin and maybe she could be of Italian descent, or Spanish, but she was on the tall side for that heritage.
    What it came down to was, he couldn’t pin down anything about her, and that made him uneasy.
    She sat across his desk from him, her chair pulled up close so she could use the desk for a table. He noticed that she seemed a bit hesitant when she first bit into her hamburger, as if she wasn’t certain of the taste. Then she chewed more enthusiastically, but it wasn’t