Rock Chick 04 Renegade (40 page)

Oh my God.

I kept silent and kept staring, I couldn’t help myself.

Duke went on. “He knows you were a virgin. It’s impossible to be a clueless virgin one day and a tease the next or at least what I seen of you, it’s impossible for you.” I hadn’t agreed that I was a
clueless
virgin.

I didn’t have time to squabble, Duke was on a rol .

“Vance knows that. If he’s havin’ dinner with you and he wants you in his bed, you got nothin’ to worry about. And if Luke knows you’re with Vance and he wants you ride-along, you got nothin’ to worry about with him either. Yoko Ono my ass.”

Wel , there you go.

Duke’s eyes turned to May. “When Luke’s ready, mark my words, he’l get his own fuckin’ woman and God save us al .”

Then he stomped away. Everyone watched him go.

Final y Stevie said, “Guess the powwow is over.”

“Yeah, wel , Duke has a way,” Roxie mumbled.

“I’l say,” May put in.

“Anyone want coffee?” Tex boomed. “If not, I’m shuttin’

her down for the night.”

“I have to get home. Lee’s taking me to Barolo Gril tonight,” Indy said, standing.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot to tel you, Eddie cal ed. Lee and him have something on tonight. I told him to tel Lee I’d tel you,” Jet explained.

“You’re shitting me.” For some reason, Indy looked ready to blow. I suspected she real y (real y) liked Barolo Gril .

Al y laughed.

“You and Lee and Barolo Gril … not… gonna… happen,” Al y told Indy.

“Hank and I were supposed to go to a movie, he’s sucked into whatever-this-is too,” Roxie said.

Indy sighed. “Such is the life of the Woman of a Badass.”

“You got that right, sister,” Jet said.

Everyone laughed.

I didn’t. I was reflecting and kept reflecting while they al decided to go to Brother’s for burgers.

I headed home.

To Vance.

* * * * *

Vance was wearing jeans, a heathered, dark-gray henley with a cool, heavy-buckled black belt. His feet were bare and I had to admit, they were stil sexy.

I was wearing low-rider, midnight blue cords; a cool, heavy-buckled black belt of my own; and dark, gray-blue, fitted long-sleeved tee (I didn’t figure Luke would have issues with blue cords). My feet were bare too and my toenails were painted a dark, electric-blue. It had seemed a good idea at the time; I was feeling in a funky-girl mood. I decided I needed a pedicure.

Vance had made quesadil as and they were good. He’d even put jalapeños and bits of sautéed chicken breast in them. When we were done eating I did the dishes while he made some cal s (it was only fair, he cooked). He was off that night, back at work tomorrow. He was going to the cabin after Luke picked me up.

When he was done with the phone and I was done with the dishes, he guided me to the steps to the bed and we climbed up.

Luke was due at my house in just over an hour. I figured Vance would go straight for the hanky panky. We had time.

He didn’t.

He lay down on his back and tucked me in his side, my cheek on his shoulder. Then his hand went up the back of my shirt but only to draw mindless patterns on the skin of my lower back. Other than that, he was silent and he didn’t touch me or try to kiss me.

Hmm.

His fingers were having an effect. As I’d attacked him that morning, I thought it was his turn. I didn’t know how to communicate this without making it my turn.

“Vance?”

“Yeah.”

“What’re we doing?”

“Lyin’ in bed.”

“I know but… why?”

“Why not?”

I didn’t have an answer for that.

Wait, I did. “I’m not good at lying around.”

“Princess, you need to learn to be stil .” I thought about that, thinking maybe he was right. I was rarely stil . I was usual y on the go, always had been my whole life. Hard to save the world lying in bed and doing nothing.

“Is this a Native American thing?” I asked.

“What?” There seemed a hint of laughter in his voice and I got up on my elbow and looked at him. I was right, definitely laughter, in fact a ful blown grin. “What’s funny?” I asked.

“You.”

“How am I funny? I don’t know anyone who sits around, doing nothing and being stil .”

“Lot of people do it. Most the time they fuck it up with their eyes glued to a television set, fil ing their mind with garbage.”

I had to admit this was true. “Is that why you think I’m funny? Because I can’t be stil ?”

“I think you’re funny because you asked me if it was a Native American thing.”

“Why’s that funny?”

“The only thing I know about my culture is what I’ve read in books. I was off the rez by the time I was twelve. The two years before that I was bounced around amongst people with good hearts who took me in but not enough patience to deal with my shit. Before that al I knew was my Dad gettin’

shitfaced drunk every fuckin’ night of his life, most of those beatin’ my Mom bloody while my brother and I watched.” Every muscle, bone and piece of tissue in my body froze including my lungs and heart. Then I snapped out of it, leaned over him, reached high and turned out the light.

“Jules?”

I settled in beside him and put my arm around his waist and pul ed him to his side, facing me.

“Jules,” he repeated.

I looked up at him, my arm stayed around his waist and I pressed my front to his.

Then I whispered, “I can’t do it, Vance. You have to give me time. I need the moonlight.” I took a deep breath then said, “But before you get upset, you have to know that I know it counts, this counts more than any of it.” A change came about him. I could barely see it but I could definitely feel it.

“Jesus, Jules,” he muttered but he wasn’t disappointed in me. It was something else, something bigger, something that made his voice sound kind of husky.

It was something good.

I pushed deeper into him. “If I had a superpower,” I whispered, “I’d go back in time. I’d talk your Dad to an AA meeting. I’d get you back your family.”

“Quiet Jules.”

“I’d fix your Mom so she was only beautiful and not broken –”

“Quiet.”

“And you’d know al about your culture because you should.”

He rol ed into me, then on top of me. “If you aren’t quiet, I’l make you quiet.”

“You should at least find your brother, Vance.” His hands came to either side of my face.

“I’l help you,” I offered.

He kissed me and he didn’t stop there. He did a lot of things that made me stay quiet.

Not exactly quiet, as such, but the sounds I was making didn’t have anything to do with a recognized language.

So I guess I figured out how to get Vance to make a move and take his turn.

After we were done, he pul ed a soft knit, chenil e blanket out of the cubbyhole over the hal ceiling and arranged it on top of us.

He held me front-to-front, my face in his throat.

After a few minutes I said, “I want you to tel me more.” He was silent.

“Please. I know it’s hard but –” I went on.

“Later.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

His arms, already around me, tightened when I gave in.

I lay there, stil , and thinking it was not that hard.

The knock came and although it didn’t take two people to open a door, Vance walked me to it his arm curled around my neck in a way that even I, with my significant lack of

experience,

knew

was

somewhat

excessively

proprietary. I had no choice but to wrap my arm around his waist or I would look awkward and be uncomfortable.

Surprisingly the minute I did this I was comfortable, very comfortable.

This was not a bad thing just that I thought it was kind of in-your-face for Luke, considering.

Vance opened the door and stepped us both back, keeping me at his side while Luke came into the house.

Luke looked at me then at Vance, his face blank. I held my breath.

“We good?” Vance asked.

Luke’s lips twitched. “Yeah,” he replied.

I blinked. Was that it?

Vance’s arm around my neck tightened and he curled me into his body so we were ful frontal. When I looked up at him, he was grinning.

Wel , I guessed that
was
it.

Guys were so weird.

Vance started talking. “Jules, be smart, watch Luke and do what he says. I don’t wanna have to come back down the mountain to sit in an ER waiting room.”

“Okay,” I said.

“No drug dealers tonight. Just business. Got me?” Vance went on.

Hmm.

Macho-speak.

I decided against answering and instead I just frowned.

“Got me?” he repeated.

Okay, so I had to answer and I did so snottily. “Are you aiming for our make-up to be the shortest in history or what?”

Vance grinned again, it was his turn not to answer and he did it better than me.

“I kid you not, Crowe, I’m working the King Sooper’s stores tomorrow. I’m gonna find me a checkout boy. Safe job, good insurance and he probably won’t tel me what to do.”

At my threat Vance kissed my forehead. Then he let me go.

I took this to mean he didn’t feel the King Sooper’s checkout boys were much competition. He was probably right.

“Bye Boo,” I cal ed.

“Meow,” Boo cal ed back from somewhere in the house, likely somewhere where he was getting into trouble.

“Be good,” I cal ed in warning just in case he was getting into trouble.

“
Meow!
” Boo cal ed back again, sounding harassed.

I turned to Luke. “I’m ready now.”

Luke had a ful -on smile going. They were rare and they were effective. Some woman was going to be super lucky one day. I just hoped that Luke was just as lucky.

We started to move, Vance grabbed my hand, gave it a tug and I turned back to him. His head bent and he touched his lips to mine.

“Be careful,” he murmured, his face close, his eyes soft and warm.

My breath caught.

I nodded and whispered, “I wil .”

We left and I swung into the passenger side of the Explorer.

“King Sooper’s checkout boys?” Luke asked after I’d buckled in.

“My dream men,” I replied.

“Babe.” He started up the SUV and we headed out. “At least you aren’t wearing purple pants tonight,” he noted.

“I didn’t want to embarrass the team.”

“I’m thinkin’ that’d be impossible.”

Wow.

That was huge.

Even with that hugeness uttered, I decided to take a page out of Luke’s book and be quiet.

* * * * *

He talked.

He told me Nightingale Investigations had a varied clientele. The bulk of which was corporate investigations, background checks on employees, looking into fraud, that kind of thing. This was done in-office, usual y by their computer hacker, a guy named Brody, as wel as through surveil ance. They did some domestic investigations, cheating husbands, cheating wives, pilfering money from joint bank accounts. They used to do security but now only watched Fortnum’s and recently my place. They took on some government contracts, federal, state and local. They also took on specialized cases. These Luke didn’t share much about but explained they were worked almost exclusively by what I was realizing were the “Top Four”: Lee, Luke, Mace and Vance. The team also did a lot of skip tracing and this they did national y if the skip seriously skipped. Mostly it was done in a six or seven state area which Luke considered “local”.

Vance, Luke confirmed, was their top tracker. He also did al their wire work. Further, he was the guy they chose to do most reconnaissance because he was ultra-quiet, something he’d learned during his past as a felon.

Lee was ex-special operations force, Army Night Stalkers. Monty was an ex-Navy SEAL. Lee’s specialty was everything. Monty’s specialty was planning operations (these operations Luke also didn’t go into detail about).

Matt and Bobby, two more of Lee’s team, were local boys who should have been cops but preferred an extra chal enge. They spent a lot of time pul ing in skips, taking photos during dangerous liaisons, doing stakeouts, providing security (as in bodyguards) when a client needed it and they acted as added manpower. “Foot soldiers” was how Luke described them.

“Good ones,” he said.

Ike had been a cop until something ugly went down. That something ugly wasn’t shared by Luke either. He was tracker number two on the team and was often out-of-town, the same as Vance.

Jack, another guy I hadn’t met, was muscle.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“Except for taking most night shifts in the surveil ance room, yeah.”

Mace sounded interesting mainly from what Luke
didn’t
say. Apparently he used to be a world-class surfer. He was half-Native Hawaiian and he came to Colorado to take up snowboarding, something at which he also excel ed. Mace, like Lee and Vance, was good at everything he did, he had no specialty, they were al his specialties (except wirework which Luke explained only Lee, Monty and Vance knew how to do). This was due to a life as an athlete, some of that professional, he knew how to use his body and his instincts and reflexes were sharp.

“How did he go from a professional surfer/snowboarder to a private investigator/bounty hunter? That seems a strange career move.”

I thought of surfers and boarders as Zen masters, riding the waves and the snow, one with nature, not out cracking heads and looking pissed off al the time.