Chapter 16
Later that afternoon
“Are you sure?”Big Daddy demanded. “Sure it was Elaine Prescott?”
Tina Paxton nodded, an eager smile crossing her face. “Yeah. She was wearing a black wig, but I recognized that beauty mark by her lips when I took her a cup of coffee. That’s when I heard that EMS woman ask her if she knew her name and the date and she said Elaine Prescott. I know her voice too, from the clinic when she’d come to talk to Sister Bernie. She’s got one of those high-class, snobby voices you don’t forget.”
“Well, hot damn, girl,” Big Daddy praised. “You done good.”
“So will you let me work at one of your clubs?” Tina begged. “You said if I helped you with Clark today, you’d help me and I wanna work at one of your clubs. Get me out of that damn clinic with all those nuns.”
Big Daddy considered. It wasn’t as if Tina had found Elaine Prescott for him. Pure luck had sent her downtown to watch Clark after he’d listened to the taped conversation between Clark and the Prescott bitch and her fancy man who’d done most of the talking. “You said there was a guy with her? What did he look like?”
“Military, if you ask me,” Tina scrolled through her phone and handed it to him. “Look at this. That’s her in the wig with the guy she was with.”
In the picture, a tall woman in a shapely black dress, holding one of them fancy hats women liked so much, stood next to a tall, well-built man who looked as if he were from the military or a were cop. He didn’t understand why Clark hadn’t seen it immediately.
Hot damn! He realized it was the couple from the club. He’d seen them before, and they had been there visiting with Clark under his nose. Another man, taller and broader at the shoulder stood behind them. They were talking to Grant Miller, who had been a thorn in Big Daddy’s ass for years and who he would gladly kill if he could get away with it.
But these other two guys. Were they Brotherhood Protectors? When he first heard about them earlier this year, Big Daddy had one of his hackers do some research on them. Yeah, those dudes had the look. The slimmer one was probably screwing Prescott.
He sent himself a copy of the photos and gave Tina her phone. “Okay,” he said. “You can start working at the club in South Knoxville next week, so don’t give up your job at the Wellness Clinic just yet. I may need you to do some more stuff for me before then.”
“Really?” Tina squealed, jumping up and clapping like a little girl. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Big Daddy drawled. “Go get yourself a good haircut and mani-pedi at one my salons between now and then. If you do well in South Knoxville, I’ll see about moving you up. Get going and don’t let the door hit you on the ass on the way out.”
“Yes, Big Daddy!” A giggling Tina scurried away, nearly slamming the door. She might not be the brightest bulb in the pack, Big Daddy reflected, but she’d brought him evidence that Elaine Prescott was sticking her nose in his business.
And she’d most likely found Brotherhood Protectors. Something The Cadre hadn’t been able to do. And they thought they were going to muscle their way into Big Daddy’s territory? When hell froze over.
So, it was time to flex a little muscle. Show those Chicago assholes who the real bad-ass power in East Tennessee was. He went to the bar, filled a snifter with Courvoisier and took a savoring sip, considering his options.
Then an idea formed. An idea so damn simple he should have thought of it from the beginning. The Prescott woman had messed up his thinking when she took Lulu. Probably kidnapped her. After all he had done for Lulu, there was no way she would leave on her own. If he weren’t planning on killing Elaine Prescott, he’d charge her with kidnapping.
He returned to his desk, switched on his laptop, and opened the file on the men who’d purchased The Honeys for next weekend. Those fools thought everything was anonymous and their identities couldn’t be traced, but Big Daddy paid people very well to find out such things. He should probably give ‘em all a raise. Maybe introduce ‘em to The Honeys.
And there it was. Staring him right in the face. The key to capturing Elaine Prescott.
Later at the Safehouse
“Hold still,”Griff ordered and there was no mistaking the authority in his voice. “I said, hold still.”
“I’m not wearing a sling,” Elaine protested from the dining table chair. “How can I work if my arm is in a sling?”
“EMS said you need to let it rest,” Griff said, draping the oversize paisley shawl-scarf over her head, wrapping it around her left arm and tying the ends together in a knot. He stepped back, studying her as if admiring his handiwork. “It should do the trick.”
Elaine stared at the familiar fabric and then up at him from one of the office’s computer chairs. “This is mine. Where did you get this?”
“I found it in one of your dresser drawers.”
“You went through my drawers without permission?” Elaine frowned. “Really?”
His brows drew together and the sweet mouth she’d kissed just hours ago was now a fiercely held scowl. “Yeah, so what?” he retorted. “You got a problem with that?”
“Well, you could have asked.” Elaine snapped. Her arm really, really hurt. “There might have been something there I didn’t want anyone to see.”
“I’ve seen women’s underwear before, Prescott.” His dangerously quiet tone invited a challenge.
“Prescott?” Elaine fought to hold back her rising temper. “I’m Prescott now?”
“Don’t be perverse,” and the warning note remained in his words.
“I’m perverse?” Elaine shouted. “Who acted like a fool running after an armed man? He could have shot you, you idiot! You could have been killed!”
“So, I’m supposed to sit there and do nothing?” Griff shouted in return “Next, you’ll be saying you’re getting hurt was my fault because I was trying to keep you out of harm’s way.” Rage twisted his features, making him nearly unrecognizable. “Like it’s my fault for agreeing we go down there and you getting shot at as well as those other people and the undercover guys? And I couldn’t even catch the son-of-a-bitch!”
He strode away to brace his hands on the wide window overlooking the city. Night had arrived, the indigo painted sky full of twinkling starlight while an enormous full moon shared its glow with the Sunsphere. A seemingly peaceful end to what had been a very dangerous and potentially deadly day.
But not so peaceful between them.
Miller had arrived shortly after they had, and spent a long time questioning them, including Patrick, individually and as a group and had just left. Patrick behind him.
As her heart slowed,Elaine watched as Griff’s hands turned to fists and he gently pounded the window His ragged breathing belonged to a man trying to regain control of himself, while his rigid posture was that of a coiled rope, about to unravel.
When he remained where he was, Elaine went to stand beside him. “We agreed together to talk to Clark” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Discussed it, planned it, no secrets. Right?”
“Whatever.” His gaze remained fixed on some distant point among the lights.
“Why are so angry?” she asked. “Surely you don’t think any of this was your fault?”
He turned and she saw guilt mixed with fury stamped on his face. “I’m supposed to protect you, Elaine. Not make decisions that will get you and others killed.”
“Is that what you think you did?” she demanded. “That’s crazy thinking, not to say just plain dumb. Clark wanted to see both of us. We had to go together.”
“Oh, yeah?” His jeering tone returned. “Maybe I should have suggested we meet at Sapphire’s. Not a likely place for a shoot-out.”
“Yeah,” Elaine retorted. “You listen to me, Lieutenant Griffin Allen Tyler! If we’d met Clark at the club, there’s no telling who might have been there with him. Big Daddy’s goons, people from The Cadre, who knows? They could have killed us, and no one would ever have known about it. Meeting in public was our best bet. Grant Miller had officers stationed all around the square to keep us safe as possible. No one got hurt. The shooter was an idiot for opening fire in a public place and you’re a crazy idiot for running after him like you were a cop. That’s’ why Grant Miller and the others were there so stop blaming yourself for not catching the shooter because of your knee. You were running faster than anyone I’ve seen since I watched Bernie’s older brother round the bases and win the state baseball championship when he was in high school! You pushing me down saved my ass and I’ll kick yours up and down Gay Street if you don’t stop blaming yourself, got it?”
“It’s a nice ass.”
“What?” Elaine blinked.
“I said, ‘it’s a nice ass.’” The rage and sorrow had vanished from his face and eyes, and a tiny smile raised his lips ever so slightly. “Meaning yours. I’ve watched you walk across rooms, and you’ve got a really nice one.”
She silently released a sigh of relief. “An ass or a walk?”
“Both.” His smile stretched across his gorgeous face. “Can’t have one without the other.”
She laughed and said, “You are crazy.”
“Very nearly,” he agreed.
She started to hug him, but he stepped back. “Hold up,” he warned, easing the makeshift sling over her head. “Can’t have you messing up this fine garment.”
He dropped it to the floor and very, very gently slipped his arms around her, pressing his forehead to hers and his heart beating against hers was a welcome pleasure.
“Are we good?” she whispered her question, carefully placing her arms around his back.
“Yeah,” he said. “Do you think we should talk about that kiss?”
“Which one?” she teased.
“Dinner is ready.” Patrick called from the suite’s front door. He held up a large slow-cooker, oversize oven-mitts coming halfway up his arms. He squinted at them and asked, “Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” they said simultaneously and reluctantly Elaine stepped out of Griff’s embrace. “Where have you been?” she asked.
“Checking on this,” he said, holding up the pot. “And we need to check the fax machine. I just got a text from Griff’s aunt about short-term rental properties in the area, anywhere from three days to six months. She just faxed them over. Didn’t you get her text?”
“Guess I need to look,” Griff admitted and from the twist of Patrick’s lips, Elaine guessed the man was trying to hide his smile.
Delicious aromas teased out of the slow-cooker and Elaine asked, “Is there a kitchen downstairs?”
“A small one,” Patrick said cheerfully. “Started this bad boy early this morning. Hope you like brisket with ‘taters and carrots. I’ll put the rolls in the over and we can eat in fifteen minutes.”
He ambled to the kitchen and Elaine looked at Griff. “What do we do now?” She hoped her simple question got a simple answer.
Because there was another question, one that had nothing to do with their mission, but the unspoken one of desire hovering between them. It hung and pulsed in the air like the growing tension before a storm, threatening to break and shatter and release a torrent of emotion and need.
Griff picked up the sling and draped it over her shoulders. “Dinner, first,” he suggested. “Then we’ll look at what my aunt sent and see if we can eliminate where the girls wouldn’t be kept. After that–we’ll see.”