Chapter 14

K ara's heart sank to her stomach. Caught, and rotten timing. Maybe she could call her father, ask him to beg a favor from one of his friends in law enforcement, the local DA, but this was Georgia, not Florida.

Her father's reach didn't go that far.

As she ran through the list of possibilities, the deputy's grin widened. The man was slightly portly, with gray hair and a suntanned face. He took off his mirrored sunglasses, squinted into the trunk.

"Jace Beckett. The one and only. What the hell you doing in there, son? Get out."

Jace blinked, took the hand the deputy offered and climbed out of the trunk. He dusted off his jeans, gave them a rueful look.

"Can I help you, Officer?"

So polite, and grace under pressure. Kara doubted she'd have the same dignity and confidence after climbing out of a trunk, knowing she'd been caught by the law.

"No, but you sure need some help," the deputy drawled. "From the looks of it, you sure do. Where's your bike?"

Jace blinked, losing a little of the confidence. He studied the deputy, who made no move to cuff him or read him his Miranda rights. "I know you?"

"Not exactly. Name's Bill Blakeson." The man stuck out a hand and Jace shook it. "You rode with our club last year to raise money for the benefit fund for the widows and orphans of our local deputies."

Jace squinted, grinned. "You don't look like you did on that ride. What's with the car?"

Deputy Blakeson snorted. "That ratty thing. I'm motorcycle patrol, but my bike's in the shop."

"Your uniform threw me off," Jace told him.

"Your duds threw me off and my boys as well. One of them was off duty at the diner, spotted you and saw the BOLO. An off-duty deputy followed you. Was going to bring you in, but we got an alert from the FBI to notify Raphael Rodriguez if you were spotted. Most of the guys here don't trust the Feds, but I rode with you, and I do. So I called Rodriguez and he told me you're clean. Sure appreciate what you and your team are doing to clean up the bad guys, even if it isn't in this area. Damn DP are everywhere, ruining things for legit bikers."

Kara stared at Jace, totally confused. Jace threw her a guilty look. Then it dawned on her and fury bubbled up.

"Officer, what exactly is Jace's team?"

Too late, the man shut his mouth, clammed up tight. Jace folded his arms across his chest, his mouth compressed.

The deputy touched his hat. "I'll be going now. Unless you need me for anything. Just call. We're on your side."

Kara couldn't believe it. Her mind felt like it was spinning in circles. Jace, working undercover. She should have known he hadn't turned criminal. But she was so stunned by the biker gang, so filled with fear for Dylan and contempt for the bikers, that she'd let her emotions cloud her.

As Deputy Blakeson nearly ran for his car, Kara turned to Jace. "What the hell is going on, Jason Leroy Beckett? Whose side are you on?"

Swearing wasn't in her vocab. Not Kara, the good girl who always tried to do the right thing. But there was no other word to express the sheer anger, hurt and betrayal she felt right now.

Jace straightened and dropped his hands. "Kara, I'm undercover. I infiltrated the gang a few months ago, working deep undercover."

"Undercover for the local sheriff's office?"

"No, the FBI." He heaved a deep sigh. "Now that my cover's officially blown..."

Jace stuck out a hand. "Special Agent Jason Beckett of the South Florida Federal Bureau of Investigation."

Kara stared at his hand, then her gaze traveled up to his face. That face, sincere and hard in the sunlight, a flicker of uncertainty in his blue eyes as he dropped his hand. The well-trimmed beard, ragged hair threaded with gold streaks from the sun—now, she saw the contrast with his always military erect posture. He'd succeeded in blending in, a chameleon in wolf's clothing among dangerous, criminal wolves.

Anger faded. "Jace, why didn't you tell me?" Kara rolled her eyes. "Never mind, that's a rhetorical question. You couldn't. I suppose there's a lot you can't tell me."

Clues had been there, even last year when she saw him in formal dress at the fundraiser for the sea-turtle hospital. Or how Jarrett treated him like an equal, not like a dangerous criminal. Jarrett was as straight as they came.

Her own mother suspected and gave her a gentle warning.

"Please, answer one question. Did you go undercover to catch my cousin stealing?"

His shoulders lost a little of their tension. "No. We've been watching the DP for nearly a year, when we got wind they were connected with a terrorism incident that we subverted. Two months ago, they started their smash-and-grabs at local jewelry stores. I had no idea Dylan joined them until I became a member."

"You actually became a member? Incredible."

A rueful smile touched his mouth. "Yeah. Initiation was not fun. They beat you up, with chains. Still have one mark on me."

Horrified, she stared. "Jace, you let them do that to you?"

A shrug, as if he'd admitted to them patting his head. "Had no choice, Kara. I got that far, further than anyone else. A beating seemed a small price to pay for inside information."

His expression softened. "That day at the Tiki Bar, Lance forced me to flirt with you. Part of my initiation as a prospect. I didn't want to insult you, Kara. I'm sorry for making you so uncomfortable."

But still, she sensed he was hiding something, not to do with the assignment, or his FBI work. Something else that ran deeper.

"Why you, Jace? Why not someone else in the FBI?"

Now he turned away, jammed a hand through his messed hair. "Long story, babe. Let's just say that the beating I got from the DP wasn't my first. I know all about biker-gang culture."

So many questions. She searched his face, the barely hidden anguish below the surface. Kara cupped his face in her hands, gently stroked the bristles on his taut jawline.

"Perhaps someday, you'll trust me enough with the full story, as I trusted you."

Kara dropped her hands and walked to the passenger side. This time he did not open the door for her, but slid behind the wheel, saying nothing.

She wasn't certain what troubled her more—Jace's reticence about his past, or the fact he couldn't trust her with it.

Damn and double damn. He could do many things, but keeping the truth from Kara presented him with a challenge he'd rarely experienced.

He'd expected his cover to be blown. But he'd hoped it wouldn't happen until he had the chance to level with her. So much for that.

In the car, he plugged in the GPS coordinates into his phone and sent them via Bluetooth to the sedan's system.

They drove in silence for an hour, neither talking as he headed down a twist of backcountry roads in northern Georgia. Nothing much he could say to her right now, no answering the questions she asked.

The sun had started to descend by the time they reached the small town Dylan had mentioned. A freshly painted sign boasted Welcome to North Crystal Lake, the Friendliest Town Around!

Pristine, tree-lined streets greeted them as they drove on a narrow main street, where shops with colorful flower baskets advertised everything from a barber shop to clothing. Pedestrians strolling the swept sidewalk seemed less interested in the sedan than the street vendor playing a wicked fiddle on the corner. Someone else joined in with a banjo.

"Hard to believe this place is haunted," she murmured. "Or had a murder."

Relieved she'd finally spoken, he grinned. "Local gossip. I looked it up. Guy wasn't murdered, he hung himself and the townspeople said his ghost haunts the place."

He parked at the edge of a county park with a hiking trail. Jace looked around. Their car blended in with the others in the lot. Most of the owners seemed to be sitting on metal bleachers, watching a softball game being played on the field.

Navigating the steep, mud-strewn path, they arrived at a small clearing surrounded by trees and flanked by thick brush. Soft green moss carpeted the clearing and he heard a stream nearby.

In the center stood an ancient, dilapidated shack with a single door hanging precariously from its hinges. Jace recognized it from Dylan's description. This was the place where he had hidden the necklace, but wow, he'd picked a hell of a hiding spot. Open to anyone.

Anyone who dared to come here, anyway.

Not that he believed in ghosts.

Place looked like it had once been home to a campground, perhaps. Jace's imagination flicked to the old Friday the 13th movie.

Kara shivered as they made it to level ground. "This place is spooky. Like Camp Crystal Lake from Friday the 13th ."

He blinked. Oh, it wasn't the first time they held the same thought, but it had been a long time since they were in sync. Jace grinned.

"Sure is. And I'm Jason."

At his suggestive wink, a shaky laugh ripped from her throat. "Just tell your mother to stay away from me."

His grin slipped. My mother is busy enough staying away from me. Prolly for the best.

They stepped over trash scattered on the ground. Dead leaves crunched beneath Jace's shoes as he advanced to the front door. Motioning for Kara to hang back, he withdrew his gun and then opened the door.

It creaked on rusty hinges, sounding like a cliché from a horror movie. The cabin was one room, with a fireplace cluttered with ashes, moldy furniture and a table beneath a broken window. Looked like vagrants had called it home for a while. He went to the fireplace and combed through the ashes.

A blue velvet bag peeked through the grayness. Jace lifted it and opened the bag. Whistled.

Gleaming diamonds nestled inside the velvet. Clutching it in his left hand, still gripping his gun in his right, he ran outside.

Kara stared at the bag as he handed it to her. She started to pull out the necklace. He stayed her hand.

"Wait. Anyone might be spying on us."

They trekked back to the car and drove away. Only when they were on a main road did Kara pull out the necklace. Diamonds glittered in the sunlight as she held it up.

"It's the Vandermeer necklace. Not a replica."

"How can you tell?"

"I'm not a trained gemologist, but I've learned a few things along the way. With diamonds you look for cut, clarity and color and carat, what's referred to as the four C's. I look for clarity—the fewer imperfections, the greater the clarity grade. But with this necklace, there was a small imperfection...not in the diamonds themselves, but the clasp."

Kara pointed out the lobster-claw clasp. "It's crooked. I meant to get it fixed. Besides, Dylan wouldn't have had time to replicate the necklace. Or the resources."

"Unless he worked with a third party."

The necklace dropped into her lap. "Jace, he's not like that. He's a scared kid. Stop acting like he's a suspect."

"Which he is."

"And so were you. Or is your real mission to find and arrest my cousin instead of that criminal gang?"

With considerable effort, he curbed his temper. "Your cousin is in extreme danger. If Lance and his gang find him before we do, or the police do, Dylan is a dead man. He's the only one, that we know of, who can identify Marcus, the real power behind the Devil's Patrol."

He hated scaring her like this, but Kara needed to know the threat Dylan faced. She ducked her head, staring at the velvet bag. "I'm sorry, Jace. I didn't mean to snap. I'm worried about him. And I trust you'll cut him a fair deal when he's found. Promise me."

At least she'd cut him that break. He gestured to the necklace. "I promise I will do what I can. What about that bling?"

"Bling?" She laughed and consulted her phone. "I wouldn't call six figures in diamonds bling , Jace. I need to store this in a safe place. A bank deposit box... There's a branch of my bank in Atlanta."

"I'm afraid I can't do that." He drew in a breath. "That necklace is evidence."

"Evidence! It's mine and Dylan returned it to me... What, are you going to hand it over to that murdering biker who wants the property he stole back...? Wait..."

Jace waited. Yeah, he knew she'd make the connection sooner or later. Surprising it took this long because Kara was sharp. Worry about Dylan had consumed her.

"Evidence," she repeated slowly, tucking the necklace back into the dusty velvet bag. "Cop talk. I forgot. How absurd of me."

Tucking the bag into her jeans pocket, she shook her head.

"What about Dylan? Are you sending your squad after him?"

Jace sighed. "I don't have a squad, Kara. I told you, my concern is the same as yours—find the kid and get him into protective custody. You have to convince him to turn himself over to us. It's for his own good."

Trusting him now was important. They were close to getting Dylan to come in. If not, the kid would keep running, and Lance and his crew had spies everywhere.

"All right. I'll try."

Kara called Dylan and put the phone on Bluetooth speaker. Dylan answered.

"You got the necklace? You see, Kara? I'm not a thief. I always meant to return it to you."

"Thank you for returning it to me, Dylan. I know you are not a thief. Now please, Dylan, you have to come in. You can't keep running forever," she said in a gentle tone.

Silence.

"Will you trust me on this? Please?" Her gaze flicked to Jace. "If I share something in confidence, will it convince you to turn yourself over to Jace?"

"Jace?" A bitter laugh. "He's okay, but he's still one of them. What's to prevent him from tossing me to Lance to end up with a bullet hole to my head?"

Kara looked at him. Jace cleared his throat. Now or never. He'd already blown his cover. But maybe it could work in his favor this time.

"I'm not a real member of the gang, Dylan," he said slowly. "I'm working undercover, investigating Lance and his crew."

"Huh." Dylan's voice filled with suspicion. "Like one of those television journalists?"

"No. I'm FBI."

A long whistle. "No kidding? You're a Fed? A Fed! Damn."

For a few minutes, her cousin laughed. "All this time I thought you were a little easygoing mechanic who liked to ride and hang out with criminals. And you're a Fed."

"And you're in trouble. Big trouble, not so much with the law but Lance's crew. Name a place and I'll meet you, Dylan. I promise to speak to the US attorney on your behalf."

It was all he could do.

For a few moments, Dylan said nothing and Jace feared the kid wasn't going to agree. Then a tiny sigh.

"Okay. But a place on my terms."

Dylan named an abandoned campground in southern Tennessee. "Meet me by the railroad tracks at five tomorrow afternoon. Bring Kara. If you're who you say you are, Jace, I'll surrender to you. But if not, I'm outta there. Kara, I'm sorry I dragged you into this mess."

So was he, and everyone else. But at least now Dylan was close to being safe. "You got it."

"Dylan, thank you. Remember, we're family..."

"And family does for family. Got it. Thanks, coz."

He hung up.

Kara turned the cell phone over in her hands. "I'm so worried about him, Jace. What if the bikers find him before we do?"

He reached over, squeezed her hand. "You have to trust that won't happen, babe. Dylan's evaded them so far. Even evaded us. He's smart. It runs in the family."

She glanced at him. "Smart, huh?"

"Who else could take a business and turn it into a success?" He consulted his phone. "We need to find a place to stop for the night and rest."

They stopped at a fast-food restaurant near Tennessee for a quick dinner. By the time Jace drove them to a nondescript motel near the main road, he was exhausted and Kara looked ready to drop from stress.

He let her use the bathroom first to shower, his imagination going haywire at the sounds of the water running. By the time it was his turn, he was no longer exhausted, only tense and wired at spending yet another night with her.

Kara slid beneath the covers and seemed to be asleep. He finally emerged from the bathroom and saw she'd placed her suitcase on the other bed.

Well, he could handle this. Jace climbed into bed with her.

Jace sighed as Kara snuggled up against him, closing her eyes with a smile. Damn, this was tough, feeling her soft, sweet body lying next to him. Old habits died hard. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, pull her close, start those long kisses she loved. Finish with both of them naked, panting and worn out from the good loving.

He couldn't afford distractions. Jace slipped out of her grasp and curled up on the other bed with her suitcase for company instead of Kara herself.

But it was a long time before he slept.