Faint light spilled from my hand, illuminating a water pump and a pressure tank near my leg. Humming from a motor droned in my ears, a not-so-nice counterpoint to the ringing already there. Muck squished under my hand when I pushed upright. “What’s that smell?” “Manure,” a rough voice answered from the darkness opposite me. I angled toward the sound, blinking while my eyes adjusted. “Where are we?” “The pump house,” Shaw answered. Mentally I tallied our position. “Halfway between the start of the driveway and the rental car.” “Mmm-hmm.” Metal jingled. Keys dangled from the ring looped around his middle finger. Shaw stared through a crack in the door, gaze sweeping from side to side. Rotating my ankle, I winced. “That’s not a subtle way of asking me to wait in the car, is it?” His hand closed and the rattling ceased. “I didn’t say anything.” “That makes it easier to forgive and forget what you implied.” I settled some weight on my foot. “Forgiving is tough.
