Chapter 4 #2
Cap looked up from his computer, then over Dane’s shoulder at Shana and smiled. He stood and came around his desk. Dane checked his familiar irritation at this ritual of friendship between Cap and Shana. He ought to be thankful for it.
While Cap was mid-hug with Shana, Dane said, “Did you shake anything from the ATF? Do they have eyes on Dag yet?”
Cap backed off, his smile fading. They all sat in the uncomfortable chairs.
“Not ATF, but I heard from our fearless governor.”
“And?”
It wasn’t like Cap to draw things out. Dane’s body shifted from alertness into to silent alarm mode. The engine of his heart began steadily increasing its pumping rate like he was revving up.
“Don’t ask me where he gets his intel, but he says Dag was spotted at the airport in Boston.”
“When?”
“I got the call this morning—after I spoke to Shana—as soon as he found out. Sighting was late last night. Where are your mothers?” Cap flicked his glance between him and Shana.
“We left them in the car. Under the watch of your desk sargent.”
Cap gave him a double brow raise at that.
“Don’t worry,” Shana said. “We’re driving the Jag today.” She glanced at Dane sideways.
“You’ll need to put the file in the trunk then.”
“You’re giving us a paper file?”
“Orders. Security. On loan from the ATF. You need backup?”
“No. Jake is with us. Following in the Jeep. Speaking of the ATF, looks like they’re holding back in spite of handing over the file.”
“Looks that way. I think they want you to see the file to impress on you that they know a lot about you. Incidentally they’re tickled that you’ve flushed out Dagmar Hunt for them. He’s one of the top guys on their list of bad boys.”
“So they have an operation?” Dane didn’t share with Cap his theory about how the feds might be using Claire’s visit to flush Dag out.
“Not only that, but they’re moving the operation here—they’ll be on island shortly.”
Dane’s heart leapt like a race car off the starting line. The starting flag had been waved and his engine revved to full force. His mother’s life was at stake and his boyhood nemesis was on the hunt. This was a must-win.
Shana noted the film of perspiration form on Dane’s brow and sensed his entire body vibrating with energy. She wasn’t sure if it was anger or adrenaline or fear.
She spoke up. “How shortly?”
Cap looked at his watch. Shana looked at Dane.
“I thought you’d be glad for the help,” she said.
“Either the dam feds will chase Dag back under his rock with their presence, or he’ll have an army with him to match theirs.”
“Let me guess—you’re thinking he’ll bring the army because there’s no way he’ll back down from a chance at revenge,” she said.
“You’ve been doing a lot of guessing lately.”
She knew she was right. The question was whether or not Dane was right in his assumption. Or whether his paranoia had finally got the better of him and he was now as bat-shit crazy as Dag.
She hoped he wasn’t doing his stupid famous mind reading trick right now. She frowned.
“I don’t think I like what you’re thinking right now,” he said.
“Too bad you’ll never know.”
He reached a hand out, aiming to tug on her hair the way he had a habit of doing, but she tossed it over her shoulder out of his grasp and leaned back in her chair.
“What does the file say?” she asked Cap.
“That he’s the chief badass in charge of an army of badasses.”
Dane scoffed and stood. She stood.
“We should be getting back.” Dane scooped the thick file from Cap’s desk.
“Where are you going?”
“To Gay Head. To surf.”
“That explains the outfit,” Cap said.
Dane gave him the finger as he shuffled out the door in his sandals and lime-green board shorts.
“I like your outfit,” she said, knowing that would be of no consolation whatsoever.
“F--- you too.”
She followed him down the hall and back out to the car hoping that it was the cool air-conditioned office that had caused the goose bumps to rise off her flesh.
She caught up with him at the front door and could see her mother laughing at something Mrs. Blaise was saying.
“We need to be upbeat in front of our mothers. Try to have some fun.”
“You accusing me of being no fun, girlie?”
“I would never.” She figured it was the dryness of her comment that made him laugh.
“I think you’re right. But I could have said the same thing to you. Except that I have a hell of a lot more respect for you, so I assumed you would already know that.”
“Bam.”
“Bam?”
“As in touché. You got me. Guilty as charged.” She held in her smile. “What century were you born in anyway?”
“How could I not laugh and have a swell time with such a comedian for company?” He wasn’t smiling yet.
As he pushed through the door to return to the car, she caught him around the waist and swung in front of him. It was a risky move if their mothers were watching, but she went for it, had a need to touch him, feel his body, his heat, his energy.
She didn’t want to think she needed his reassurance, but she knew she craved it. They stood just outside the doors on the landing. She faced him without a sliver of air between them, one arm snaked around him, the other on his chest, caressing and moving up to his chin.
“You planning to kiss me?” His voice had no inflection, but the raspiness told her the effect she had on him. The pressure against her belly told her the same story.
“You have a problem with that, big boy?”
“Big boy? What are you, channeling Marlena Dietrich?”
“I don’t know who she is, but I’d like to be channeling you—”
He stopped her from speaking, using her favorite method. He took her lips in his, nibbled and sucked and stroked them with his tongue. Knocking the breath from her within a blink. Before she was ready, he broke away. His hands took command of her shoulders and backed her to a safe distance.
“Let’s go surfing, girlie. I don’t want to have to make excuses to my mother about why I can’t walk and need to lie down.”
“Feel better?”
“Better than what?”
She sighed and swatted his arm.
“I feel hornier, if that’s what you mean. But I still feel like the anvil is going to drop and land on my head if I don’t keep tap dancing.”
“Don’t worry. I have my Saturday night special at the ready.” She patted her small bag that she had slung over her shoulder. “Gay Head is the perfect place to stay safe. There’ll be lots of people and we’ll see anyone suspicious from a mile away.”
“True.”
“And Jake is watching out, too.”
“True again.”
“Then what?” She stopped him again about ten feet from the car, still out of earshot if she spoke quietly.
“I wanted to be able to enjoy this visit. I didn’t realize it until I couldn’t.”
“I know.”
He looked at her, gave her one of those heart-melting looks of his that told her he had read her mind and reached in and squeezed her heart in empathy.
“You should be enjoying your mother’s visit too. I shouldn’t be keeping you—”
“Don’t even say it. You’re wrong to even think it.”
“What?”
“That I shouldn’t be second chair—”
“It’s not a temporary appointment, not a case-by-case thing. You’re my partner. My permanent second chair. If—”
“No ifs. I’m where I want to be.”
He held her a few inches away, close enough that she could feel his breath, smell that heady all-male scent, and see the depth of pain and longing and—she couldn’t think it. But she did. She saw love in his eyes. Maybe it was a reflection of hers. But oh, how she hoped to hell it was all him.
Dane avoided speaking and didn’t glance at his mother once in the rearview on the way to the beach. Luckily Tilly was a one-woman show full of delighted reactions to the scenery and odd stories from back home.
By the time they’d arrived at the beach, Jake was waiting for them at the Jeep, which was illegally parked in a tow zone. Dane pulled in next to him in an equally illegal spot.
“Since when do you take license?” His mother sounded a lot like a mother.
“Since it’s a crowded day at the beach.”
He carried the boards and led the way on the hard sand along the boulder-strewn beach toward the waves. His head swiveled and his gaze scanned everyone within the horizon. Jake had the binoculars. Dane refrained from ripping them from his friend’s hands to look for himself.
“Anything?”
“Nothing but chickens.”
“Look for women too.”
Jake lowered the binoculars. “You think I’m new at this? Like I never heard of a woman being used by a motorcycle gang before?”
“Don’t tell me to relax. Chances are they’re not here now, today. But they’re on their way soon.”
“You think Dag called me from Boston last night?”
“Looks that way. Now he knows you’re here too. Probably why he called you. To find out.”
“He would have figured it sooner or later since my house is empty.”
“Anyone watching it?”
“You mean besides the local Mongols? Sure. I have a regular posse.”
“Your family is away?”
“Like I said, I’ve been around this block before. I take extra precautions ever since—”
Tillie approached and Jake clammed up, giving her his signature sunny California smile.
“Are you sure Shana is up to surfing, Dane? I’m a little worried.”
“Didn’t she tell you? She’s been back on the horse since she arrived and we’ve done plenty of surfing since.”
“I’d like to see you surf, old man,” Jake said, “but I don’t see any waves.”
“It is a mild surf, isn’t it?” Tillie said.
Dane led them to the water and nodded at Shana. His mother sat under an umbrella in a beach chair and waved. He couldn’t tell if she knew something was up behind her shades.