Chapter 6 #2
Dane said nothing. Shana stood silent in front of the refrigerator with her arms folded. No one moved. No one spoke until Deputy Agent Pratt apparently couldn’t stand the tension.
“What were you doing searching the Lakes’ condo yesterday afternoon? What were you looking for? What did you find?”
Dane let the corner of one side of his mouth lift in a smirky smile. He flicked his eyes in the direction of Pratt while he was talking, but he mostly stayed with Del.
“I’m giving you this one-time chance to hand over whatever you took from the condo. After that—”
“Nothing. That’s what I took. And I know you already know that because you were there first and you already took everything. I’m sure your sister told you she gave me the key and invited me to go to her condo since I am working for her. So threatening to arrest me is bullshit.”
Dane remained in his relaxed pose, but every muscle in his body was poised on the verge of fighting.
There was no flight reflex option in this scenario.
He hadn’t bothered to ask Del how he knew.
Gable, not having been trained to withstand expert questioning must have ended up spilling the beans. But that was okay. It served a purpose.
It gave Dane an opening.
Del moved in on him then and yanked his arm to turn him around.
“I’ll show you bullshit. You’re under arrest.”
Dane knew his next move was to have Pratt slap cuffs on him and he was not about to let that happen.
Although he remained calm on the inside, this was one of those rare instances where he needed to be anything but on the outside.
This was the opening they were waiting for.
He gave Shana their super-secret signal that the show was on.
It was nothing more than the flicker of a gaze and the meeting of eyes, but they both knew what it meant.
Yanking his arm free of Del’s hold, Dane got in Del’s face.
“Get your damn hands off me and get out of my house. You have nothing and we both know it.”
Deputy Agent Pratt joined Del then and put a hand on him. Dane shook it off violently and grabbed his shirt front. The man was less fierce, less everything than Del. Naturally Del wanted an assistant who was a go-along kind of guy, unquestioning and reposing. The backbone of a poltroon.
But maybe he was being too hard on the guy for his lack of resistance and the fear in his eyes. After all, Dane was in fierce fire-eating mode and unmatched in his experience at communicating his desire to pulverize a person.
Plus, he’d had that third dangerous cup of coffee.
Del was no milk toast. He grabbed Dane again, as predicted, spinning him away from agent Pratt. He tried punching Dane. He should have been quicker about putting on the cuffs, because in spite of Shana’s shrill call to ‘Stop this shit,’ Del took a swing at Dane and nearly landed a blow to his jaw.
Dane swung back but Del had known he would, so he’d ducked away.
Dane went after him and Del rightly accused him of being a crazy bastard.
But he didn’t back down. Del took another swing and this time Dane would like to think that he let him land the punch, but it hurt too much and he wasn’t that stupid.
Dane took a breath and punched Delbert Parrish, ATF Agent, square in the mouth.
His knuckles scraped against the man’s teeth, bleeding and raw, but the connection lifted his adrenaline up a notch.
He felt a hell of a lot better then, stronger.
Within two seconds both men ended up on the floor with Shana and Pratt watching.
Shana was the first to interfere, but she didn’t bother trying to pull either one of them off the other. Near as Dane could tell, she’d gone to the kitchen drawer where they kept their Glocks and then he knew there’d be trouble.
She took her Glock out and shot the gun at the ceiling. A lot more destructive and dangerous than if they were outdoors since Dane kept all kinds of weaponry up there, but very effective. Ceiling plaster rained down on them as he rolled on the floor holding Del’s collar.
Both Del and Dane stopped what they were doing and stared at her, and staying stock still when they saw she had the gun aimed at them. Del’s assistant watched in paralyzed astonishment.
“Are you shitting me?” Del said.
But Dane watched the smile form on Del’s face and turned to Shana to see why. She was giving him that look. The one that said to a guy that she’d like to eat him alive. She was very good at communicating without speaking.
“On your feet. Both of you.” She nodded to Pratt. “You—go stand between them.”
He looked aghast but when she tilted the gun in his direction a fraction he moved.
She lowered her gun, but she didn’t put it back in the drawer.
“What the hell kind of law enforcement men are you?” She waved the gun in Dane’s direction. “Sure he’s crazy out of line and deserves to be arrested, but this is my home and I don’t like people brawling in here.”
“Lady, you sure are something.” That was all Del had to say before the spell was broken and he returned to his hard-ass ATF man-in-charge self.
He took some plastic cuffs from Pratt and whipped Dane around without saying a word. This time Pratt proved to be useful in helping with the process. He must have been trained in the drill.
“You are under arrest for assaulting an officer of the law and obstruction of justice.”
Dane said nothing.
Shana said, “It was only a matter of time.”
The indifference cascading from her felt glacial and frightening, even though he knew it was an act.
“Let’s go.” The deputy agent started dragging Dane to the kitchen door. Dane knew he had to allow it, but a steely sense of wrongness settled on him. His urge to dig in and fight was nearly overwhelming.
He eyed Shana. Leaving her in his kitchen with Del, after making love the night before in the next room, dissolved his good sense, overrode his reason, made him want to toss their calculated, if unspoken, plan in the shit pile and lay everything bare.
But he didn’t. Because she had those eyes that could communicate. She said she loved him with a glance, encouraged him, reassured him she’d be fine and they would be good, that they would get their man in the end. All that with a flash of her eyes in that gorgeous expressive face.
Pratt opened the door and he walked outside ahead of the man without putting up a fight and against every instinct and grain in his body. That was the power of Shana.
He was either doomed to hell or blessed to heaven. Even a Magic Eight Ball would have no clue.
*****
Del turned to Shana. She didn’t like his smile.
“Get out.” She pulled the kitchen drawer open, but she wasn’t ready to put the gun inside. Yet.
His face didn’t fall, not on the outside. But she knew she’d disappointed him. She had to play hard to get, yet irresistible. It would be no easy trickery to reel this slick customer in.
“You have a license for that gun? Concealed weapon license?”
She said nothing, but reached her hand toward the back of the drawer and pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper and tossed it in his direction.
The act of compliance felt like submission to a dirty deed.
Like she’d need to go to confession later, skip the Hail Mary and start straight into full rosaries to save her soul.
Del caught the paper. Quick reflexes. He glanced past the words and zeroed in on what he’d wanted to know and stepped forward to give it back to her. Taking measure of her, he said. “I did my homework on you. Wasn’t sure I believed what I found. But maybe.”
He paused there and posted a half-smile on his face that might have been adorable to a woman who couldn’t see past such things. Shana wasn’t one of those women. Her heart bubbled a reminder of Dane being led away in cuffs. She wouldn’t worry about him.
“Where are you taking him?” If it was off island, then she’d worry.
“What’s it to you?”
She laughed. “I suppose you’re right. Maybe I ought to pack now.”
“Not so fast. I don’t want you leaving the island.”
“Personal or business?”
He laughed. Sounded genuine enough. She allowed a suppressed smile, as if she were tired of playing it cool.
“You didn’t answer my question.” She pushed a handful of hair back off her shoulder to remind him of her long alabaster neck, collar bones and the creamy scoop of her neckline.
“Nowhere yet. Probably take him over to Captain Lynch’s headquarters and have a chat with him later. Maybe his friend will talk sense into him.”
“You said you did your homework.”
He nodded. “I know all about Mr. Blaise’s get-out-of-jail-free card with the governor.
But it irks me. If he does anything truly stupid, I’ll take him back to DC.
with me. I don’t have much use for people who abuse their connections and throw their weight around.
” He paused and stepped closer and leaned against the sink next to her like they were chatting over coffee.
“Besides, we’re on the same side here, aren’t we? We’re both trying to protect my sister and catch the killer, right?”
She nodded as if she agreed. “True enough.”
“You inclined to share information?”
“If it’s a two-way street.”
He put out his hand as if to shake hers. She looked at it and fluttered her eyelashes up at him. “I thought those mystical good-ole-boy handshakes were reserved for men.”
“If you want something more suited to your persuasion, that can be arranged. How about if I keep your boyfriend in jail overnight and come by around eight?”
She backed off. His raised brow questioned her.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”