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hours.
    Walker steeled himself as he got into the car. Ella glanced at him once, a frown tightening the corners of her lush mouth. She seemed about to speak, but instead she turned and stared out the passenger window.
    She hadn’t spoken to him since they’d left the chopper, and it made him feel tight and uncomfortable inside. Still, there was no rush to conversation. Walker waited until they’d pulled away from the airport and had driven north about twenty minutes before making an attempt.
    “We’re going to Asheville,” he said, testing the waters. He glanced over at her.
    “Okay,” she said. She kept looking out the window, her shoulders hunched. She seemed sad.
    “You’ll stay with us for a while until we make sure you’re safe at home,” he said.
    She didn’t respond.
    “Where are you from, Ella?” he asked, keeping his tone gentle.
    She turned toward him, her expression bleak.
    “I live in Gulf Shores,” she said.  
    “How did you end up at that warehouse?” Walker asked.
    “I’m a bartender. I was leaving the bar really late and I got grabbed off the street. They put a hood over my head and put me in a car, and that was it.”
    “Kidnappers and human traffickers usually target people on purpose, specific people. Did you recognize any of the men?”
    “No,” she said, shaking her head. She hesitated for a long moment before speaking again.
    “They didn’t even know I was a shifter, but…” she trailed off, biting her lip.
    “But what?” he prompted.
    “I heard them use my name, more than once.”
    “They probably opened your wallet and looked at your ID,” Walker said.
    “One of them said it while they were grabbing me. I still had my purse on my shoulder at the time. I distinctly heard him say my name, and another one said, ‘That’s her.’”  
    Walker absorbed that information, glad he’d decided to take her to Asheville. She’d been targeted, just as he’d suggested. Until they knew who would want to hurt her, she couldn’t go back to the same elements that had led her here in the first place.
    “We can send someone to get your things from your house, if you want,” he said, trying to figure out her mood. She had plenty to be upset about right now, but he wanted to resolve anything that he could.
    She lifted a shoulder, then shook her head.
    “I don’t have much. I just moved, and I left most of my stuff behind.”
    “You don’t sound very attached to your new home, if you don’t mind me saying.”
    Her brow puckered and she inclined her head.
    “I have a couple boxes of keepsakes and a few boxes of clothes in my new place, all still packed up. I don’t even have dishes in my new place yet.”
    Walker was surprised at her words, at her seeming detachment.
    “You seem like one of those women who would line her nest, so to speak.”
    “I did line my nest. I saved up and bought a house, right on the beach. I decorated every room just how I wanted it. Hurricane Katrina came through and wiped everything out, and I did it all over again. I loved that house. It’s the only place I’ve ever felt like I was really home,” she said, letting out a big sigh.  
    Walker was silent for several seconds. She kept surprising him. First silence, then this story about her house.
    “So why aren’t you living there now?” he asked.
    Pain flashed in her eyes, and Walker noticed that dark circles were forming under her eyes. Maybe he was pushing her too hard right now, after all she’d been through.
    “I got married, and then I got taken for everything I had.”
    Walker opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. Ella caught his expression, and her mouth twisted with foul humor.
    “I know. That’s what I said when the court ordered me out of my own house.”
    “But how? I mean, you said you bought it yourself.”
    “I did, but when we got married I was dumb. Justin, my ex, told me that if I loved him I’d put his name on everything. Bank accounts, the house, even my car.