Chapter 16
Daphne kicked off her high heels as she sprinted down the hallway. She burst through the exit door.
I followed, still feeling the effects of her foot in my groin.
The vixen sprinted across the back lot, her red hair flowing. She craned her neck over her shoulder, glancing at me with wide eyes as she kicked into high gear.
The girl was fast.
I sprinted hard, heart pumping.
She reached the end of the lot and took a left at a side street.
I rounded the corner after her, my legs driving me forward.
It didn't take long to catch up.
I wrapped her up and lifted her from her feet. She kicked and struggled, screaming for help, trying to make me look like a bad guy.
"I'm taking you back to jail right now!" I growled. "Assault, attempted escape, resisting arrest."
"Okay, okay," she said, settling down.
"Hey, buddy, leave her alone!" a big, burly guy said as he approached.
"Back off. I'm a cop.”
"You don't look like a cop.”
"Help, he's trying to molest me!" Daphne shouted.
The big guy looked like he was going to throw down. He wore a trucker cap, a flannel shirt, and had a bushy mustache. He looked well-fed.
With one arm still wrapped around Daphne, I reached for my badge and displayed it.
The guy backed away and raised his hands innocently.
I pulled out my handcuffs and slapped one around Daphne's wrist. I wasn't too gentle about it either. I wrenched her other arm behind her back and secured her.
"I kinda like it rough,” she said.
I took her arm and dragged her down the street, heading back toward the Porsche.
"You're not really taking me back to jail, are you?"
"You’re damn right I am.”
"What about Brock and Dane?"
"I will find them on my own. It's not like you’re offering anything valuable.”
"I'm sorry. I apologize. But you can't blame me for trying?”
I looked at her like she was crazy.
She cringed. "Did that hurt?”
"No. It felt great," I snarked.
"In that case, I'm willing to do it again if that's what you want.”
I gave her an exasperated look. "What I want is to see you behind bars. And I'm going to get my wish in about 15 minutes.”
Panic filled her eyes. "Look, I know where Dane hangs out. If he’s not there now, he will be soon. He's a creature of habit, and he'll go where he's comfortable. I can assure you, he's not going to leave town until he gets the dagger.”
I stopped on the sidewalk and scowled at her. "You’re going to stop playing games with me right now.”
"No more games. No more escape attempts. Promise."
"Your promises aren't worth anything."
She frowned. "You really know how to hurt a girl's feelings.”
Daphne made that adorably sad face again.
“Where can I find Dane?”
"The Dutchman. He's friends with the bartender. I can almost guarantee you he will come in at some point tonight. If we go there and stake it out, he will show up. He's gone into that place almost every day for as long as I’ve known him."
"If you’re lying to me, that's it. You're going straight back. This is your last chance."
I escorted her back to the Porsche, put her in the passenger seat, then drove to the Dutchman.
It was a small hole in the wall, off the beaten path, popular with locals.
You'd almost never find a tourist in this place unless they wandered in by accident.
We pulled into the lot, and I backed into a space. From there, we had a view of the door.
I grabbed Daphne’s wrists and pulled them close. I released one cuff, then secured it around the steering wheel.
"If you walk in there and start asking questions, the bartender will call Dane, and he will never come back. You have to be slick about this.”
"I think I can handle it," I said dryly.
Daphne nodded to a figure walking across the parking lot. "Speak of the devil."
"Is that Dane?"
"Yep!"
Dane was in his early 30s with short, curly, sandy-brown hair. It was covered with a ball cap, and he wore sunglasses to help conceal his identity. He wore jeans and a T-shirt. A cigarette dangled from his lips. He gave a nervous glance around.
"Get down," I said to Daphne.
She slinked low in the seat.
Dane didn't spot us. He flicked the cigarette to the curb before he stepped into the bar. It smoldered, and the cherry still glowed.
"Stay here. Don't move."
"Where the hell am I going to go?" she said, tugging against the handcuffs. They jingled.
I climbed out of the car, hurried across the lot, and drew my pistol.
By the time I stepped into the dim club, Dane had taken a seat at the bar. He exchanged a handshake with the bartender.
I took aim and shouted as I closed in, "Coconut County! Don't move!"
Dane's eyes rounded. He sprang from the barstool and sprinted toward a hallway that led to the restrooms. He grabbed a woman as she came from the ladies’ room. He wrapped an arm around her neck. In a flash, he had a pistol to her temple. "Back off, pig, or she dies!”