Chapter 47

Kayla lookedat him in horror, and Ash’s heart constricted as if he’d delivered the shitty news about Wade all over again.

“We need to bring him in for questioning, but the task force hasn’t been able to locate him. If we can get him to come to us, it’ll be easier for everyone, including Wade.”

“But he’ll know I betrayed him.”

“He’s a potential killer. I don’t think betrayed is the right word.”

“Either way, our relationship ends.”

“I can’t say that chokes me up.”

“What if you’re wrong? What if he’s not the killer?”

Two women exited the bar, releasing the erratic thump of nineties music.

“Wade’s a big boy. He’ll understand the situation. If anything, he’ll blame me for pressuring you into doing it.”

She squeezed her eyes closed and drew in several deep breaths. “There has to be a better way.”

“There are other options.”

Her eyes hooked into his. “Which are?”

“A team could hit his place tonight, while he’s asleep. Or they could snag him tomorrow morning, during breakfast with his daughter. Or they could?—”

She held up a hand. “I get it. I don’t need any more visual images of him being treated like a criminal.”

Guilt arced through his body. He hated playing off her loyalties toward her employees, but Ash couldn’t stomach the thought of Kayla being alone with the Ranger again.

Wade probably had his place drowning in security and had a failsafe escape plan. But Kayla calling him for a pickup? As common as grass growing.

“Make the call, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“You’re not going to take him in yourself, are you?”

“I’ve dealt with a fair number of bad guys. No need to worry.”

“I’m not calling him unless you get Morgan, Lawson, or another cop here to assist. If he killed the governor in cold blood, he’ll have no problem taking you out.”

“You don’t appear to have a lot of faith in my abilities.”

“I work in the realm of odds and I don’t like yours going up against a combat veteran who’s a suspected murderer.” She covered his heart with her palm. “If Mason is who you believe him to be, he lacks an essential part of his humanity. You do not.”

“I want it noted for the record,” he trapped her hand against his chest, “that I could kick Wade’s ass twice on Tuesday. By myself.”

“Duly noted.” She smiled. “Now call for backup.”

“After you ring Wade.”

“Ash—”

“Let’s make sure you can get him here first.”

She stared at him for a long, contemplative moment. “I confirm, you call?”

“Promise.”

“I absolutely hate this plan.” She lifted her phone and tapped Wade’s name.

“Speaker.”

She hit another button and the ring tone seemed to rattle the air around them. It rang several times, and Ash feared his imperfect plan was DOA.

Then . . . “Hello, Kayla.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Mason, but I’m going to need a ride home after all.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Yes and no.” The tips of her fingers holding the phone turned white. “I feel really ridiculous, but there’s a guy who’s creeping out on me and I’m afraid he’s going to follow me out of the bar. I’d rather have you waiting for me at the curb rather than some unknown, muscle-challenged driver.”

When Wade didn’t immediately reply, they glanced down at the screen to make sure the call clock was still ticking. It was.

“Mason, did I lose you?” Kayla asked.

“I’m here.”

“Did I come through okay?”

“Loud and clear.”

Pinpricks of unease skittered down Ash’s spine. Something about the Ranger’s voice was off. He didn’t display the normal emotion of being called back to work. No irritation, exasperation, or joking comment about what would she do without him.

He was calm. Too calm. Focused. His words penetrating.

“Are you able to pick me up?”

“You and Special Agent Blackwell?”

Shit. Ash scanned the road both ways, across the street, the buildings above. Nothing.

“I didn’t kill Governor Stokes.”

“I believe you.”

“If you didn’t kill her,” Ash said, “why was your blood found at the crime scene?”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t in the Krowne’s garden.”

“Mason, what’s going on?” Kayla asked. “Why were you there?”

“To fulfill a contract.”

“Someone hired you to kill Vicky?”

Silence.

“Me?” she whispered.

“No, Kayla,” he said in a rough voice. His first sign of emotion. “I would never hurt you. Not for any amount of money.”

“Why Victoria?”

“I can’t answer why.”

“If you didn’t shoot the governor,” Ash said, still searching for the Ranger, “who did?”

“Seb Grimball.”

The ex-con with a compulsive need to announce his intentions with carefully placed jewelry stolen from his victims.

“Did you murder him?” Kayla asked.

More silence.

“My God, Mason. You nearly killed us.”

“If I’d wanted you dead, you’d be cold and rotting now.”

“You hit the gas line!”

“Regrettable, but as good a distraction as any to keep your agent from following me.”

“Who ordered the hit on Governor Stokes?” Ash asked.

Preparing for the evening crowd, the decibel level of the music inside the bar seemed to have ramped up a good 10dbh.

“Have you told Blackwell about Service yet?”

What little color was left in Kayla’s face drained away. “How do you know about Service?”

“Drivers are like domestic servants.” Wade’s voice rose as he fought to outloud the background noise swelling around him. “After a while, they disappear from their employer’s landscape. Become air. Necessary, but unseen.”

Unease forced Ash’s attention toward the bar. He peered into the large window and scanned the clutch of tourists, locals, and bleary-eyed suits. “Who ordered the hit, Wade?”

“Someone very close to Kayla. Watch her back.”

“Already done. Give me a name.”

A shadowed figure inside the bar moved closer to the window. Tall, broad-shouldered, predatory stride. His left hand held a phone up to his ear.

Ash’s feet carried him closer to the window until he was staring into Mason Wade’s hard eyes.

The bodyguard dropped his phone, mouthed a name, and disappeared into the crowded bar.

“Stay here.”Ash threw the sharp command at Kayla before ripping open the Cellar’s door and giving chase.

He recalled another time, at Hemingway’s, when the Ranger had sat inside the establishment to ensure his employer’s safety. Why hadn’t he considered the possibility the second his unease surfaced?

Sprinting through the bar, he ignored the bartender’s shouts and crashed through the rear entrance that led to a back alley. A jean and black T-shirt clad figure caught his attention.

“Wade, stop! We can work something out.”

The Ranger didn’t acknowledge his command. In fact, he seemed to turn on the damn turbos. For such a big, muscle-bound guy, the Ranger could book.

Ash pursued, wishing he had worn his HOKA running shoes rather than his thin-soled Oxfords.

The Ranger burned around the corner and descended a set of stairs that led to a public parking lot.

Ash pumped everything he had into his legs. If Wade made it to his vehicle, he would go so far off the grid they’d never track him down.

He screeched to a halt as soon as he hit the lot and searched for the Ranger’s dark head. Nothing.

Dammit.

“Ash!” Barreling around the corner, Kayla ran down the sidewalk, parallel to the parking lot, pushing her way through pedestrians. She pointed at a gunmetal Ram truck roaring up the hill toward Haywood Street.

He bit out a string of curses before hustling to Kayla’s side.

Breathing hard, the lobbyist balanced on one foot while she locked a four-inch heel onto her other. She’d taken her damned shoes off in order to chase after him and Wade.

“Didn’t I say to stay put?” he bit out.

“Do I look like someone who takes orders from a man?”

“I’m not just any man.” He jammed his fingers through his hair. “I’m a law enforcement officer in pursuit of a suspected murderer. I cannot focus on my job if I’m worried about you getting hurt.”

Her defensive stance eased, and she threw her arms around his neck. “You scared me when you took off.”

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her in close. Kissed her neck. “I can handle myself, but only if I know you’re safe.”

She nodded. “Where’s your car? We should go after him.”

“Wade’s in the wind. The only way we’ll find him is if he wants us to.”

“What about his daughter?”

“As soon as we tracked down Grimball, Wade knew his days were numbered. Jozi’s no doubt tucked away with someone he trusts.”

“What do you suggest we do, then?”

He brushed a stray lock away from her cheek, then curled his hand around hers. “Come on, we need to talk.”