A Perfect Storm (34 page)

Arizona shifted her feet, took one stance, then another. “Yeah, well…” Again she glanced at Spencer. “I appreciate that. The thing is—”

Unable to take all her waffling, Jackson dropped the keys onto the table. “Those go to a lock. For a front door. That’ll go into the house we’re having built for you on our property—and don’t you give me that look.” He pointed at her. “You can’t keep running around the streets.”

Arizona’s eyes narrowed. “No.” She looked from him to Alani. “But thank you.”

Jackson ignored that. “I have more than enough land, damn it. Like Chris said, you’d have your own privacy—”

“No.”
She swallowed hard, breathed fast. “You’re too generous and too…” At a loss, she shook her head. “Appreciate the gesture. Really. But I can’t. Thanks anyway.”

It wasn’t a damn gesture, but when he started to speak, Alani squeezed his arm. “Please think about it, Arizona, okay? The keys are symbolic. We haven’t broken ground yet on the new structure.”

“We wanted you in on that,” Jackson explained. “Alani wanted you to help design the house.”

“Oh, God.” She rubbed her forehead.

Alani left him to approach her. “Don’t make a decision right now. Take a little time to think about it, that’s all I’m asking. Could you do that, please?”

Jackson knew Arizona wanted to refuse, but Alani had a hand on her shoulder, her tone was soft and sincere, and Arizona wasn’t immune to her.

Who could be? His fiancée was one special lady.

Damn, he was lucky.

Smiling, he came up to put an arm around each of them. “Great idea. Take a little time to get used to the idea before you decide.”

“And until then,” Chris said, “let’s eat some cake!”

CHAPTER TWENTY

T
HANK
G
OD
THEY
DIDN
’
T
make her suffer through any singing, or blowing out of candles. After helping to clear away the last of the birthday mess, Arizona finally started to relax.

At least, on that score. She still had to find out what she could about Quin and the sting and that suspicious phone call she’d received.

“So, Dare.” With all birthday celebrating now out of the way, Arizona sought a way to ask the necessary questions. She moved her glass of lemonade a little, seeing the ring of condensation left behind on the patio table. “Did you wrap up everything at the bar?”

“The Green Goose?”

How many trafficking rings was he currently busting up at bars? Dryly, she said, “Yeah, that one.”

“Not completely.” Dare shrugged. “But everyone is safe, and there are good people working on the details.”

Everyone wasn’t safe, or Quin would’ve had no need to call her.

“We’re staying in contact with the head of the new task force,” Trace told her. “He’s still interrogating Terry Janes, but I doubt they’ll find out anything else.”

Huh. Trace had probably already questioned the guy, and he wasn’t held back by legal restrictions. “You figure if you couldn’t make him talk, no one can, right?”

Scowling a little, Trace avoided the question. “It’s being handled.”

“Right. I’m sure it is. But if there’s nothing else to find out, why interrogate him?”

Jackson frowned at her. “There’s always more to find out. Like who owns the place.”

“Janes doesn’t?”

“Nope.”

She ran her finger through the condensation on the table. “So…who does?”

“We’re still working on it,” Dare told her. “So far, no one we nabbed seems to know, so we’ll have to search the records.”

Arizona considered that. “You got Janes and his henchman, Carl, and the bartender…”

“And a couple of other thugs who drove a white van. Dare grabbed them out of the back alley.”

Arizona looked up. That was the first she’d heard about a white van.

“But,”
Jackson said before she could start asking questions, “you don’t need to worry about any of that. Those bozos are shut down for good.”

Unfortunately, she had reason for doubt. She turned to Dare again. “Okay, so you got the creeps. But do you remember the workers you rounded up?”

“There were over a dozen people, hon.”

She deflated. “So you can’t account for them all?”

Intuition sharpened his gaze. “I can place most of them. Why?”

Oops, time to retrench. “I was just wondering.” She brushed away a bumblebee that tried to land on her arm and summoned her most casual expression. “Was Quin in there?”

“The Hispanic kid?” Dare thought about it and then shook his head. “I don’t recall seeing him, no.”

“Isn’t that odd?” Forget subtlety; she
needed
to know. “I mean, he was there that night. He served me.”

“He probably split the second he heard the sirens,” Jackson said. “Maybe he’s an illegal. Bastard traffickers convince them they’ll be arrested if they’re caught.”

“Is there a reason you’re worried about him, specifically?” Trace asked.

“No, not really.” Her thoughts churned a little more. To make her lie more convincing and throw them off the scent, she asked, “What about that goofy little artist, Joel Pitts?”

Dare shrugged. “I don’t know the names of the people, but I can find out if it’s that important to you.”

No, it wouldn’t matter. She knew Quin was free because he’d called her, so why put Dare to the trouble of gathering info? “That’s okay. I was just curious.”

“Why?” Spencer asked quietly.

She slanted him a look. “Quin and Joel were the two I talked with most. I spotted Quin right off as a victim and then, since Joel drew pictures of me…” She shrugged. “I feel like I sort of know them both.”

“What do you mean, he drew pictures of you?” Priscilla asked. “What kind of pictures?”

“I was going to ask the same thing,” Alani said.

“I’ll show you. They should still be in my purse.” To give herself a moment, Arizona went inside and hunted for them. They were now badly creased and smudged a little, but she brought them back outside anyway.

As she rolled them out on the table, she explained. “I was pretty hammered when we left there, or I’d have thought to take them out before they got messed up.”

Everyone gathered around. “Wow.” Priss admired the drawing. “He’s really talented.”

A different topic was to her advantage, so Arizona kept it going. “Even without me posing or anything, the drawings look like me, except better.”

“Not true,” Dare said.

“Hard to imagine that’s even possible,” Jackson told her. “You looking like you do and all.”

“You really are beautiful,” Alani agreed. “There’s nothing to improve on.”

“Yeah, well…thanks.” Uncomfortable with the compliments, Arizona gave her attention back to Trace and Dare. “I was hoping to see them both again. Just to see how they’re doing.”

She glanced at Spencer. He was far too quiet as he scrutinized her with piercing interest.

While trailing his fingertips up and down his wife’s arm, Trace asked, “You’re worried for them?”

Ignoring Spencer’s watchful gaze wasn’t easy. When Trace picked up one of the drawings to study it, she tried for a shrug. “They both seemed pretty lost, that’s all. It’d make me feel better to know they’re okay.”

“Arizona?”

She tried not to wince at Spencer’s tone. “Hmm?”

“Why are you asking about Quin and Joel?”

“I told you.” She didn’t want to lie to him—but neither could she tell him the truth. As she again rolled up the drawings, she settled on a partial truth. “Curiosity, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” Spencer caught her gaze and held it. “What else?”

As if they only then felt the tension, everyone went still, watching them, waiting.

Arizona pressed the drawings back into her purse. She’d just gotten done being the center of attention; damned if she’d let Spencer put her back there again. “Why does there need to be any other reason?”

“With you, there are always ulterior motives.”

She thrust up her chin. “Bull. I didn’t have an ulterior motive when I asked you to spar with me. I just wanted to hone my skills. And still you refused.”

His eyes darkened, maybe with irritation. “Because I don’t want you using yourself as bait.”

“Why not? That’s the easiest way to catch a man.” Her voice dripped with sugary sweetness. “It apparently works for Marla.” And then to the group at large, she explained, “That’s his neighbor.”

Spencer sawed his teeth together.

Jackson pulled back. “What does his neighbor have to do with anything?”

Arizona said, “She wants him.”

At the same time, Spencer said, “It’s Arizona’s way of deflecting.”

Wow. He saw right through that, huh? So he wasn’t a mental slug. She’d already known and admired that about him.

She said to the group, “I wanted to work out with Spencer.” She gave her attention back to him. “But I guess that’s one more thing I’m supposed to do with the next guy, right?”

Spencer went rigid, his jaw flexing, his gaze cold.

And he withdrew. Arizona felt it, saw it, and it wasn’t pleasant.

Uh…yeah. So maybe she’d pushed him just a little too far with that jibe. But seeing his set features, she didn’t know how to regroup.

“Speaking of computer work…” Chris cleared his throat. “I wanted to show you a new program, Spencer. I’m thinking it’d be pretty valuable to a bounty hunter.”

Spencer slowly pushed away from the table and stood. Without a word, he walked away with Chris.

Holy cow. Ice could have formed in his wake. He left behind so much tension, the air crackled.
Talk about awkward…

She might have felt more uncomfortable, but damn it, instead she felt guilty.

The urge to go after him left her fidgeting in her seat. Even if she did, what would she say?
I’m sorry you don’t want to keep me around for the long haul?
She snorted and didn’t even care that the others gave her funny looks. She knew zilch about this relationship crap, what was the right thing and the wrong thing to do.

And damn it, she had few choices now. Given that she’d meet with Quin tomorrow, what could she say that’d make a difference anyway?

Dare stepped away from the patio table. “I’ll go with you.”

Not understanding, Arizona glanced back at him, then did a double take at his expression. Molly beamed with pleasure, confusing her more. “Go where?”

“Head to head.” All business now, he beckoned her from her seat. “Come on. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Trace sat back with a smile. “I have to admit, I’m curious.”

Jackson groaned.

Arizona couldn’t believe her luck. Dare Macintosh wanted to spar with her? No way. “Do you mean…?” She waved a hand between them. “Me and you? Seriously?”

He gave a sharp nod. “Let’s grapple.”

Despite the circumstances, anticipation bubbled up. But she didn’t trust the offer. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “Why?”

“Why not?”

Trace sided with Dare. “All things considered, Arizona, you need to know how to fight.”

She didn’t point out that she already knew how to fight. “What things?”

“Being around us,” he said. “Working with Jackson.”

And Dare added, “Poking your little nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Now
that
she couldn’t let pass. “Who says it doesn’t belong?” She had as much right as they did, maybe more, to work at bringing down traffickers.

Jackson opened his mouth, but Dare interrupted whatever he planned to say. “Are we sparring or not?”

Her heart beat rapidly. “Oh, definitely, we are.” She left her seat and strode toward him.

“You mind the others watching?”

“In most bar fights, there’s a crowd.” She shrugged. “I’ve never let an audience get in my way.”

“Oh, my God,” Priss said. “You actually fight in bars?”

“I keep my knife on me,” Arizona explained. “It’s a great equalizer.”

The men said nothing, but the women couldn’t hide their disbelief—probably disapproval, too. Not that she gave a flip.

Only…she kind of did.

No, screw that. She shook out her arms and took a stance across from him.

“Now that I know you like knives…” Dare picked up a sturdy twig about as thick around as his index finger. He broke it until it was close to ten inches long. “We’ll pretend this is your favorite blade.” He flipped it over once and then held it out to her.

A stick? Okay, she’d play along. After tossing it from hand to hand, Arizona worked her fingers around it until it felt right. She nodded.

“Try not to poke out my eye, okay?”

Satisfaction filled her smile. “Don’t worry,” she taunted him. “I won’t hurt you.”

Dare didn’t take the bait, but then she already knew he had a cool, controlled temperament.

They stood in the yard. It wasn’t flat but instead sloped down gently toward the lake. No problem; real fights seldom occurred under ideal situations. Dare adjusted for the terrain, so she would, too.

She felt the sun on the top of her head and bare shoulders, but it didn’t blind her.

She felt the rapt stares of the others and dismissed them from her mind.

Drawing a calming breath, she braced her feet. “Ready when you are.”

Probably hoping to startle her, Dare lunged forward in a head-on attack. Reacting automatically, Arizona released the twig with the same deadly accuracy she utilized with her knife. Like an arrow, it struck Dare solidly in the chest—right where his heart would be.

Stunned, he stopped in his tracks.

Smug, vindicated, Arizona whispered, “Gotcha.” Maybe now he’d take her seriously.

Trace barked a laugh. “Not bad, Arizona.” He sat forward. “But if that wasn’t a killing blow—and it rarely is, at least not right away and not against a guy like Dare—then you’re in trouble, because now you’ve lost your weapon.”

Oh, well…yeah, maybe.

Trace nodded at her. “Try again.”

Expression enigmatic, Dare handed her the makeshift knife and resumed his stance. “Ready?”

She set her feet apart and rolled her shoulders to loosen them. “Yup.”

This time, the second he moved, she dashed in, ducked under his arm and used the side of the twig to simulate a slash across his crotch. She rolled out of the way.

She felt pretty good about her speed, until she came up and found Dare right behind her, saying, “I might be bleeding out, but now I’m really pissed, too.” Effortlessly, he contained her in a choke hold. “And then we’d die together.”