5. Chapter 5 #2
“I got it,” Raz snapped, understanding Caige’s connection.
An informant usually hung around dangerous crowds, and if Bonnie was working with Kate, then Midnight and Kate could be the same person.
Connecting the dots hadn’t bothered him before, but after meeting the real woman, whom his dragon didn’t believe could do such heinous crimes, the idea left a sour taste in his mouth.
“I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up, knowing Caige would have done so without replying.
He threw his car into gear and followed the GPS to the address.
After a few hours, it led him to an estate in Indiana where the mortgages seemed outrageous for his salary.
Large two-story houses lined the cul-de-sac with immaculate lawns and white paved sidewalks.
Each house had a similar design to the next.
When he got close to the address, he blinked.
At the end of the cul-de-sac lay a three-story house built into the hill.
Parking his car two houses down, he stared up at the place.
The house had brick and white siding, a three-car garage, and an inviting peach-colored door. He verified the number posted on the side of the white mailbox before he got out.
He straightened out his leather jacket, glad the field office had a shower, because otherwise he wouldn’t have been in any shape to greet anyone.
Keeping his eyes trained on the house for any occupants, he strode down the sidewalk.
The evening sun was bright enough that the wide windows would have allowed plenty of light in, but someone had drawn all the curtains closed, leaving the interior a mystery.
A security light flashed on when he walked up the driveway. Hastily, he headed for the door and rang the doorbell. He clocked three pairs of dark shoes sitting in a cubby, sitting outside the door. Interesting.
Anticipation tingled his nerves. His restless dragon paced, making his skin itch.
Something thudded against the door.
“Fuck-k.” A feminine voice called as the door swung open, almost knocking over the bleach-blond woman on the other side. From the light coming behind her, the stocky woman appeared to have muscle from ankle to neck. Even for as small as she was, she’d bench him with ease.
“Who’s it?” she slurred, squinting her blue eyes.
She flipped on the porch light and grinned sloppily.
Grabbing the screen door handle, she opened it and leaned on it to keep upright.
The smell of alcohol washed over him, reminding him of the days before the FBI when he pulled over drunk drivers who had been mustering in their car, windows rolled up.
“Can I helpp you sssirr?” she asked.
He gave her a casual smile. “May I speak with Bonnie Sinclair?”
Her eyebrow pinched together, and she lifted enough to take one hand off the handle to point at herself.
“Is Kate here by chance?”
“Ahh, yes…she’sss been waiting for another.” She grinned and slid outside to look left and right as if checking for anyone else. “This way.”
His smile spread wider as he grabbed the door from her.
Even if Kate was expecting him, he was stoked that he found her.
Bonnie stepped backward and ushered him in with a dramatic wave.
He walked into the foyer where empty leather duffel bags littered the floor.
A kitchen lay to the right and the living room to the left, with a staircase ahead.
Taking a deep breath, he caught the whiff of Kate’s expensive sweetness.
His beast rammed against his brain, searing pain into his temples.
With his hands shaking, he closed the door and followed Bonnie.
She wobbled around the plastic-covered furniture in the living room. The residence was pristine as if no one occupied it. They headed left toward a dark archway with bright lights flashing beyond it. Someone must have been watching television.
“Clyde, who was at the door?” The rich-textured voice coming from within the room stroked across his spine.
Kate.
If that was, in fact, her real name. It seemed Kate expected this Clyde person to answer the door. The drunk woman didn’t answer but stopped in the archway. Raz moved around her and his eyes widened.
Four monitors lined the wall, stacked in doubles, with a large office chair sitting in front of them. On two screens, text boxes held data script. The other one had an internet browser and a movie played on another.
“Knock. Knock,” the drunk woman yelled into the room, pounding her hand against the archway.
“Bonnie…” Kate’s tone held a note of alarm as she swiveled around.
Kate’s gaze met his. He tried to hide his grin but failed. The chair dwarfed her figure as she sat with her legs crossed. She wore an orange fuzzy pajama onesie, the hood bearing two foxlike ears. Her bobbed black hair peeked out from under the hood. Fucking foxy woman.
“Took you long enough, Special Agent Raz Malone,” she stated, flicking a look in Bonnie’s direction before turning back to him.
So she had expected him to find her?
“Oh. S-shit,” Bonnie spat, holding her hand over her mouth. “I’m so-so-so—“
She halted when Kate raised her hand. “It’s no problem, Bonnie. Go on your honeymoon with Clyde.”
Bonnie bowed low at the hip, almost toppling over. “Hontō ni, gomen, gomen…”
Was that Japanese?
Kate gave her a nod.
Bonnie rushed off, leaving him alone with Kate.
His heart thundered in his ears. Unlike last time, he wasn’t drugged, and he was looking forward to this chase.
She uncrossed her legs and sat up. Even her damn socks had fox ears.
When her lips curled into a mysterious, amused smile, it knocked the breath out of him.
She raised her hands in front of her, wrist-to-wrist.
“Won’t you please cuff me? I’ve been a naughty girl,” she teased the way a lover would.
Tribunal, he wanted to kiss that sexy grin, but he quieted his thoughts. “Glad to see you’ve come to your senses.”
“Have you, though? You can’t just take me back to a jail cell. I’ll escape again.”
Shit. She has me there. Still— “I’ll make sure you pay for your crimes.”
A wince pulled at her expression. “How disappointing.”
She rushed him. With his legs spread and hands up, he prepared himself for everything except when she dropped to her knees and slid between his legs.
She was such a small thing.
Bite-sized.
He whipped around as she pivoted to face him, sliding across the floor. She lifted her hands and aimed play finger guns at him, raising her thumbs and pointing her index fingers.
“Puh, puh, puh,” she mimicked, firing her play guns one at a time.
He shook his head, elation bubbling up a chuckle to his lips. When was the last time he’d ever just had fun? Even if she were a criminal, her light-hearted and bubbly personality drew out the man in him that didn’t have the world on his shoulders.
She flipped backward in an acrobatic move, favoring her injured arm, which left her crouched a few feet from him.
“You are something else,” he said. Unable to stop himself, he added, “Come here you little sharpshooter.”
Her sharp gasp filled the room. Her surprised expression was dazzling, breath-stealing.
This game of cat and mouse between them brought out a playful side of him he thought he’d lost. And beyond that, it stoked a heat in him: a primal instinct to chase.
He took a step forward, and she squeaked before running away.
He’d caught her once, and he’d catch her again.