Free The Evasion by Adrienne Giordano Page A

she’s a grifter. He’s emailing me a report.”
    “Where do we find her?”
    “You’ll love this, Mr. August. Her last known address is in New York.”
    Gabe squeezed his eyes closed. Those hours of sleep he’d lost last night would come in handy now. He shook it off. Caffeine—lots of it—would be his next stop. “So, we’ve got a dead end?”
    “We do. Unless someone in town knows Hillary Hodges. We can show Ellie the photo coming over by email.”
    “And Little Timmy. Maybe the woman who sent you the purse is Hillary, but she’s using Thelma as an alias.”
    Jo smacked him on the arm, the tips of her fingers stinging his bare skin. “Yes! We should start with Timmy. Show him the photo and if he identifies her, you can do your…” she cleared her throat, threw her shoulders back, “…’you-can-go-to-prison-or-be-a-cooperating-witness’ routine.”
    Gabe had to laugh. She did a hell of an impression of him. Never admit it . “I don’t sound like that.”
    She poked him in the arm. “You did this morning, hot shot.”
    A breeze blew in from the harbor sending a few strands of Jo’s hair across her face. He hooked his finger around them, dragged them back the way she liked it. “Hey, I was pissed. We’re down here, supposedly on an assignment that should have kept you out of the action, and on day one, we’re burned. If Bev or Tom knew, they’d order us back to New York. Today . No argument.”
    “I agree. That’s why we’re not telling them. We’re close to this guy. I know it. We just have to keep working.”
    Gabe glanced beyond her to the docks. Sunny day like this, the water would sparkle, reminding him of being a kid and crabbing with his father. He’d hated crabbing back then. Now? He might like to try it again. Might force him to slow down every now and again. With his job and squeezing in time with Jo, the days ran together.
    Order of the day: work, go to Jo’s, have dinner, shower, collapse in bed, sleep. Next day, same thing. Not that any red-blooded male would consider it a bad routine. Not with Jo anyway. Still, it left him…unsatisfied…somehow cheated.
    “We need to go on a date.”
    She glanced up from studying her phone. Probably waiting for that email. “Pardon?”
    “Us. We need to go on a date. All we do is work, go to your place, eat, have sex and sleep.”
    “Whoa, fella.” She dropped the phone back in her pocket, stepped closer and tugged on his T-shirt. “Is this a complaint or a statement? Because it hasn’t seemed to bother you before.”
    “It’s not a complaint.” He tilted his head, thought about it a second. “Maybe it is. I don’t know. I want more. It would be nice to take a weekend and go somewhere. Take day trips, I don’t know.”
    Jo blinked a couple of times. He’d surprised her. Good. Sometimes she needed surprises.
    “Well, Gabe Townsend, I never figured you for a romantic.”
    “Neither did I. Suddenly, it’s important. I want us to slow down once in a while.
    He ran a finger under her chin, back and forth, back and forth, and those beautiful eyes of hers sparked. Amazing. He dipped his head, kissed her, lingered longer than usual because, hell, they were in public and he didn’t get to do that too often. After a few long seconds, he backed away, dropped another quick kiss on her lips. “I want you to meet my parents.”
    He studied her reaction, took note of the cues, the slightly raised eyebrows and barely puckered lips. “Is that a problem? Considering the whole ‘I love you’ thing?”
    “No,” she said. “It’s not a problem at all. Of course, you’ll have to meet my folks too. And you might run screaming from that freak show.”
    Jo’s parents were political consultants. One a democrat and one a republican. He laughed and his body went loose. “I’ll tell them I’m an independent.”
    “For the love of God, don’t say that. They’ll eat you alive.”
    “I have a gun.”
    She snorted. “There is