Ashley asked, feeling herself growing restless and antsy in the passenger seat of his car. Shane had talked her into leaving her car parked at the police station and going with him in the sedan rather than following him in her own small, close-to-ancient white Corolla. She had a feeling he’d insisted on taking her because he was afraid that she’d just make a U-turn somewhere along the line and head back to the precinct. This way he could control her. She really didn’t care for the thought. She’d been in control of her life ever since she’d turned eighteen, and she liked the fact that she didn’t answer to anyone if she didn’t choose to. Part of being in control was knowing where you were going, and she didn’t. She glanced through the window. They appeared to be traveling through a residential area. Maybe Shane had changed his mind and decided she was right. They should work through the weekend, continuing to question more of the victim’s legion of customers.
