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“I don’t know where you’re going with this. What are you trying to say?”
He sighed. “I need to leave right now.”
“I understand.” She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. “You’re not responsible for me. I can take care of myself.”
“Like you did with the two goons and the van?” He shook his head. “I don’t have time to come up with a better idea than this…” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “Come with me.” Moe marched her toward the door.
She let him lead her through the apartment and out into the hallway before she ground to a halt. “You have organs to deliver. You don’t have time to find me a hotel or a friend for me to stay with.”
“I know.” He started walking again, pulling her along. “You’re coming with me.”
She trotted alongside him a few more steps, her frown deepening. “Where are you going to drop me? The hospital or a police station?”
He shook his head and kept moving, leading her down the stairs and out into the parking lot. “I’m not dropping you anywhere.” Moe yanked open the passenger door, helped her into the SUV and buckled her seatbelt. “I’m taking you with me to Denver.”
“What?” she cried as he shut the door.
He had to get to the hospital, receive the organs and move on to the plane. He didn’t have time to find someone to watch over the pretty red-haired waitress. He slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
Before Moe could pull out of the parking lot, Bea fumbled with her seatbelt. “Let me out here. I’ll call Stan and have him pick me up. He’ll let me stay with him and his family.”
“Come to think about it, you can’t stay with your boss or friends. It won’t work. Not with the way things played out tonight.” Moe covered her hand still struggling with the seatbelt. He briefly pinned her gaze with a steady one of his own. “What’s Stan’s background?”
Bea tried to peel his hand off hers. “You know him. He owns the Tumbleweed Tavern.”
“Prior military?” Moe asked.
The redhead shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s never talked about being in the military.”
Moe released her hand and shifted into drive, pulling out of the parking lot onto the street. “Has he ever been in law enforcement or worked as a bodyguard?”
She quit trying to release the belt buckle. “I think he was a bouncer before he bought the tavern.”
“Do you expect Stan to protect you?”
“Not really.” Her lips thinned into a straight line. “But isn’t there safety in numbers?”
“Do they have children?” Moe drove toward the hospital.
“Yes. A five-year-old boy and a teenage girl.” Bea crossed her arms over her chest. “Could you get to the point?”
“Stan isn’t trained to protect or fight, other than breaking up a barroom brawl or two. Someone made a play for you tonight and trashed your apartment.” Moe kept driving, his foot heavy on the accelerator. “If you stay at Stan’s house, and the people who are after you decide to try again—”
Bea sighed. “I’ll put Stan and his family at risk.”
“Trying to get to you could make that little boy, the teenage girl, their mother and your boss collateral damage.” He shot a glance in her direction. “Is that what you want?”
She shook her head and dropped her hands into her lap. Bea stared straight ahead as her brow puckered. “You think they’ll make another attempt to kidnap me?” she asked, her voice wavering.
Moe didn’t like scaring the woman who’d already had the fright of her life that evening, but he had a job to do. Knowing she would be okay would help him get that job done quickly.
“Look,” he said in as calm a voice as he could. “I can’t leave you alone. I won’t leave you alone. For some reason, you have a target pinned on your back. Until I complete my first mission, I can’t concentrate on resolving your issue.”
She nodded. “Getting those organs to Denver is more important than finding a babysitter for me. Those organs represent hope for several people. Not one lone waitress.”
Moe held tightly to the steering wheel with his left hand and reached across the console with his right hand, capturing her fingers in his. “Your life is no less important.”
She snorted. “How do you know? A kidney might save the life of a father with small children. Eyes might give a mother her sight back so she can see her baby’s first smile. I’m neither a father or mother of small children nor the sole caretaker of an elderly parent. No one is relying on me.” She nodded. “I don’t want to delay critical assets from the people who need them most.”
