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Parker know that her mother and sister are safe.  Just don’t let her know the role she plays in this operation. Yezhov is smart; he’ll try to get at her again the minute he learns she isn’t in our custody.”
    “This is unfair to her.  She should know why she is involved.  She thinks I’m the target and doesn’t have a clue I was sent to keep an eye on her.”
    “Are you going to tell her the two cousins that she has a strong relationship with are deeply involved in Yezhov’s gun and money smuggling operation? That Yezhov knows all about her because these men use the storage space she rents for them to stash his illegal weapons and drugs? He’s a fucking cold-blooded killer, Murphy.  As long as he is on the loose, let her think she’s an innocent bystander, and you’re keeping her safe because of that.”
    “I love my job, but I hate the damn politics behind it. I’ll do what I can.”
    “I feel the same sometimes too, but at least we’re on the right side of the law.  I feel for her because she isn’t aware of what those guys are doing and how they’ve gotten her caught up in their shit.”
    “Right. Lowes, work quickly on this.  She and I aren’t exactly getting along.  If we stay cooped up together too long, one of us will die—trust me.” He hung up the phone and lay on the bed to try to sleep.
    The next morning Zach went to the living room and saw Carla sitting out on the couch with her knees drawn up to her chest, and her head bowed between her folded arms.  “Morning,” he mumbled as he passed her.  Her head lifted, and it appeared as she hadn’t slept a wink.  “What are you doing out here so early?”
    She rolled her shoulders and leaned against the back of the couch and answered, “That bedroom is a sweatbox.  It feels a little cooler out here.”
    “I turned on the air conditioner last night.  Your room should cool off in a bit if you leave the door open; you should be able to get some sleep.”
    “I’m fine where I am, thanks.”
    He went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. “Suit yourself.”  He noticed the clean plate and glass still on the table. “You didn’t eat anything last night?”
    “Nope.”
    “What are you planning to do—starve yourself?  We’re going to be here a couple of days, so eat and find a way to deal with this. Going on a hunger strike is not going to speed the process along.”
     “I’m not on a hunger strike.  I’m just not hungry.” She got off the couch and walked over to the small window.
    Zach got a closer look at her.  She was wearing his clothes, and they swallowed her.  The white tank shirt was bright against her medium-toned brown skin. Her dark brown eyes along with the facial expressions she made, showed the pain she was in.  She had one dimple in her cheek that appeared and disappeared when she spoke. She also was a lot shorter than he thought.  The loose-fitting clothes didn’t reveal her shape, but her arms and legs were lean.  He hadn’t noticed that about her before.  He put her height at about 5’3” and probably weighed a whopping 120 pounds if that much.  Carla Parker was a little person with an enormous mouth.
    She stood on her tiptoes to see out the oval window.  He could hear her sighing as the rain pounded against the ground outside. He also got a glimpse of the bandage covering the wound on her hip.  It still bothered him that she was grazed by a bullet and not sure which gun it came from. The lab would determine which gun once the ballistic tests were done.  He recovered all the shell casings from the bus shelter to hold as evidence.
    He cut his eyes away from her to finish making the coffee.  He would have to leave her alone for a while to get groceries to stock the fridge.  They couldn’t survive on just dried food; he craved protein in the form of a thick beefy steak.
    “Coffee is ready if you want a cup.”
    Carla sat down on the couch and folded her legs beneath her. “Thanks but