“We’re only half a block from Main Street,” she stage-whispered in return. “Plenty of hideouts there.”

They ducked into the hallway then hurried for the back exit. Zach pushed the heavy, steel door open, and they crossed the threshold into the late-summer night. The door clanged shut behind them.

“A clean break,” she breathed, pressing her back dramatically against the brick wall.

“Stick with me, Doll-Face,” he rumbled in return, making a show of checking both directions on the quiet street. “I don’t see any gumshoes hanging around.”

“Good to know. But I’m more worried about constituents.”

“Constituents?” He played dumb. “You mean the feds?”

She shifted away from the wall and started down the short block toward Main Street, her high heels echoing on the pavement. “I mean the good people of Lyndon. I don’t want anyone to recognize me.”

“So I’m hiding you from the entire town?” he asked with mock incredulity.

“Only from the people I know.”

“How many people do know you?”

“Several thousand.”

He fought what seemed like a natural urge to fold her hand into his. “You don’t make things easy on a guy,” he grumbled instead.

“You seem pretty good at this,” she responded, glancing up. “You sure you’re not a real criminal?”

“I’m a businessman.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he realized they made him sound like a character from The Godfather. “A legitimate one,” he added. But that wasn’t much better. “I don’t have so much as a parking ticket,” he finished, hoping he hadn’t scared her off.

“What kind of-” But then she determinedly shook her head. “Nope. I don’t want to know what you do.”

The wind had picked up, lifting the loose strands of her hair. He resisted an urge to reach out and smooth them back. “Can we at least trade first names?”

She hesitated, a look of consternation crossing her face. Then, just as quickly, she grinned. “Call me Doll-Face.”