Chapter 9

I f blood could boil, hers was volcanic right now. Kara stood outside the white concrete, dilapidated building, trying to see inside. She'd gone to her shop, only to see four fast racing bikes speeding away on Cannon Avenue.

Inside the store, she found smashed glass display cases with missing watches and rings. But the safe yawned open, an empty cavity.

The Vandermeer jewels. All gone.

One of the bikes racing away was Dylan's. The bike he adored and was paying off. He could pay it off a lot sooner now with the money he'd get from selling the stolen jewels.

She'd come here to the clubhouse, driven by fury, wanting to snatch Dylan away from here. Get him to confess what he'd done, get him away before the police nailed him.

This is what you get for trust. You felt bad for him, gave him a job and he stole from you.

She inched away from the window. How could Jace hang out with such a group of criminals? Kara partly understood Dylan's reasons. He was desperate. How she wished she'd seen the signs earlier, had gotten him to open up to her. But she was too busy with her inventory, her sales.

You let your little brother down and now you are letting your cousin down.

As she headed toward the parking lot to call the police, two rough hands seized her by the waist, spun her around. Next thing, she was tossed to the ground, her cheek pressed against the cold, hard dirt.

She smelled spicy cologne, and it reminded her of those nights in Jace's arms. Panic took hold and she struggled.

"Stop it," a low voice hissed.

Jace. He grabbed her arms, immobilizing her as he pinned her, trapping her against his big, muscled body. Terror scrambled her thoughts. As she tried to scream, he clapped a hand over her mouth.

Then Jace spoke in a low, urgent whisper into her ear.

"I'm going to help you, Kara, but you have to trust I won't hurt you. Please."

She relaxed slightly but trembled inside with fury and anger at herself as well for dropping her guard.

"I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth now if you promise not to scream. Nod if you agree to what I say."

Kara managed a nod, but as he removed his hand, she bit hard, tasting blood. He released a low curse, but sat back on his haunches, regarding her as she scrambled up against the wall.

"You son of a bitch, how dare you—"

"Keep your voice down. What the hell am I going to do with you? Do you know how dangerous and risky it is, sneaking around here, especially tonight?"

"You'd better release me and let me go, Jace."

"So you can run straight to the cops? No." He rubbed a hand over his face. "Come with me. Upstairs. Let's get you out of sight before anyone else spots you."

As he led her around the building to the steps leading to the second floor, she began to shake. "No. Don't do this. Let me go."

He tweaked her nose the way he once did. It was a little reassuring, a reminder of their shared past. She drew in a breath. Jace might have broken her heart, but he'd never hurt her physically, or let anything happen to her.

Feeling as if they'd walked into a den filled with hungry lions and she was a tasty gazelle, Kara let him herd her up the stairs, then he unlocked the outside door. As he closed the door, she squinted in the dim hallway light.

He led her down the hallway to a bedroom. Jace led her inside and then closed and locked the door. She looked around, hugging herself, and sat on the bed, wondering.

What now?

"Jace, why are you living here? What's going on?"

Real fear spiraled through her as he stood listening at the door. Jace didn't respond, only glanced at her and put a finger to his lips.

"Stay here. I need to erase that security feed of you sneaking around outside."

As he went downstairs, Kara sat on the bed, her hands folded into her lap. She'd followed Jace here, hoping he wasn't involved in this. But she'd seen the bikes speeding away. Never had she thought Jace would turn to crime.

She thought she knew him. He'd changed.

Jace finally returned. The bed creaked beneath his weight as he joined her.

"Did you erase the tapes?" she asked.

"Couldn't. I broke the receiver instead. Now, they can't retrieve the footage."

His voice was low and urgent in her ear. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Don't deny it, Jace. You and your friends broke into my store and stole from me tonight."

He made a dismissive gesture. "That's not important now, Kara. You need to follow along with me if you want to stay safe."

Anger bubbled up. "I don't think..."

A voice yelled from downstairs. "Gator, where the hell you at?"

Jace released a low curse. "Mike's back. I knew he didn't trust me. If he sees you..."

Her heart raced. She thought only about following Dylan back to the clubhouse, and trying to get him out of here. Not about her own safety. She'd been too furious and upset.

Stairs creaked. Her pulse raced. "You have to get me out of here."

"Too late. I know it's tough, but trust me in this." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "I hate doing this, but I don't have a choice, not if you want to live. If Mike knows you're here tonight... You have to trust I won't hurt you. Ever."

She wanted to run. But Jace was right. He had never put her into any situation where she felt endangered.

Jace always ensured her safety. Made her feel protected. Even though his lifestyle changed and he'd turned to stealing, she had no reason to believe he'd lie to her. Not about this.

Jace locked his gaze to hers. "You and I may have to pretend we're up here, having hot sex."

Heat flooded her face, as if her internal thermostat shot up to boiling. Jace removed his shirt and unbuckled his jeans, then shrugged out of them. Her heart nearly stopped.

Not waiting for her, Jace kneeled at her feet and removed her sneakers, then slid off her socks. Kara's heartbeat thrummed the way it used to before they made love.

This wasn't lovemaking. This was survival.

In his black boxers, his shoulder-length hair curling at the ends, he looked sexy as hell. If she wasn't so scared, she'd be turned on.

Who was fooling whom? She was turned on despite the gravity of their predicament.

Kara unbuttoned the striped shirt and threw it aside. Then she tugged off her jeans and they landed next to the shirt. In her red lace bra and matching panties, she sat on the bed, studying him. A pulse beat madly at the base of his throat. Jace swallowed hard.

"Damn," he said hoarsely. "You're so beautiful."

Kara gave him a little smile, similar to the ones she used to bestow on him when times were good and she thought they had something.

Something lasting.

Jace joined her on the bed. He pointed to her mouth. Kara framed his face with her hands and kissed him the way she once did. His beard tickled, scraped her face, but the sensation made her nerve endings flare with awareness. He tasted like the slow burn of whiskey and the hot promise of sex.

It was a long, deep kiss and he responded in turn, kissing her back as they rolled on the bed. His hands roamed over her body, the way they once did when they made love.

Her eyes closed as she surrendered to the sensations. In Jace's arms, loving him once more, rekindling the fire that consumed them both...

A snicking sound at the door and a doorknob turning. Jace ignored it, rolled her over to her back and kept kissing her. Kara closed her eyes again, this time from terror and not pleasure.

"God dammit, Gator, you weren't supposed to bring a woman here tonight. What the hell?"

Jace sat up. Kara shrank back, desperately groping for the bedsheet to cover herself.

"Couldn't wait. You're not the only one wanting to score. Go away," Jace muttered.

She didn't like the speculative gleam in the big man's eyes. "Make sure she stays upstairs and doesn't go downstairs. I'm headed out, be back in a couple of hours."

Jace flapped a hand at the door, indicating the other biker needed to leave.

A low chuckle, followed by sexual suggestions and then footsteps out to the hallway. The door closed.

Jace sprang up, sharp and alert. He put a finger to his lips and silently walked to the door. Listened.

She could barely breathe. Kara waited, hoping he knew what he was doing.

As the sound of a motorcycle roared, Jace walked to the window and lifted the faded green curtain with the back of one hand. Kara joined him. Inky blackness outside, cut by the red glow of a bike's taillights.

Anxiety filled her as he turned back. She didn't care for the predatory look in his eyes.

"Now what?" she asked.

For the first time since beginning his career with the government, Jace wished he'd never worked for the FBI. Maybe he should have been a mechanic. Working on bikes and cars all day, able to leave his work in the garage when he got home. Maybe by now, he'd be married to a sweet girl and have a kid or two on the way.

Not this dread and lingering fear working undercover, knowing Kara's life was in danger. Hell, he didn't care about himself. He could handle things. Always had, even growing up when his old man gave him the occasional beating. Jace took it on the chin and moved on. But when someone else was involved, that's when his sure footing slipped.

He couldn't afford to slip up on this case. Mike might not be forgiving, and could be setting him up for something.

"Get dressed," he told her.

When he finished dressing, she watched him with big eyes, her fear smelling like warm floral perfume and perspiration.

Not taking chances, he went to the closed door of the bedroom.

Downstairs, the kids were still drinking and playing video games.

He allowed himself a moment of relief, but not before adjusting himself. Damn, if they still didn't share the same chemistry as before. Maybe his mind never wanted to see her again, but his body sure as hell reacted as it once did whenever they'd started to get naked with each other.

"I'm taking you home now." He kept his voice neutral.

"The jewelry, Jace. The jewelry is here. My jewelry." Her voice rose above a whisper. "Jace..."

"Do as I say, Kara. You walked into this problem and you're following my orders unless you want to end up carved up like a turkey when Big Mike returns."

She paled. Gulped. Nodded.

"Good girl."

"You still have my phone?" she asked.

"It's in my apartment, locked up."

A brief smile touched her mouth. "Oh?"

Kara reached into her jeans pocket and withdrew another slim cell phone. He stared at it.

"How did you...oh. New phone?"

"I have more than one phone, Jace. I do run my own business."

He liked her smirk, since it was far better than her look of fear.

Jace shook his head. "And here I thought I was keeping you safe."

The sounds downstairs had ceased. Even the violent video games no longer blasted from the television, though someone had switched to an action movie that sounded equally loud.

The kids were settling in for the night, probably would crash here. Dylan as well.

He had to get Kara the hell out of here. Jace couldn't trust Mike. All Mike needed to do was find out Kara's real identity as owner of the stolen jewels and her life would end. Badly. Lance had too much invested in this operation to spare her.

They went down the hallway. Jace opened the outside door quietly.

As they reached the bottom step, he led her toward the garage.

"I'm taking you home."

"On your motorcycle? Not a chance."

Jace swore loudly. Always his motorcycle, the big bad beast she feared.

"You have no choice, babe. Let's go."

"I'll walk to my car."

"Where did you park?" he asked Kara.

"I left my car on the next street near some houses."

He gave an approving nod. "Smart. I'll take you there on my bike. It'll save us time."

"I'll walk there."

"Not alone. Not in this area this time of night. Too risky."

Not taking chances with her safety and no way could he risk her driving to the police station instead of going home.

Jace started to curse as she took off at a fast clip. She'd always enjoyed jogging, and they had done early morning runs together, mainly because Jace didn't like her running alone. The trail they used was safe enough, but still...

Would he ever stop worrying about her?

He retrieved his bike, started the engine and followed her. He made it to the end of the street and the busy intersection off the main road as she turned the corner. Kara fumbled for her keys and slid behind the wheel, then turned on the engine.

She rolled down the window, peering at him. "You can go now, Jace."

"No way. I'm following you home."

Kara made a strangled sound but pulled out. He followed her at a close distance. If she detoured to the police station, he was toast.

But she headed for her home. Kara pulled into the driveway, and parked, engine still running. He parked behind her, peered down into the driver's side window.

She was on her cell phone. If she was calling the cops...

After rolling down the window, she made a frantic gesture and cupped the phone. "It's Dylan. He called me. He's scared, Jace. Really scared. He said he saw something...he wasn't supposed to see."

All his senses went on alert.

"What?"

"Some man named Marcus. He saw him in the clubhouse with Mike."

Jace went still, a thousand scenarios playing in his mind. Savage joy that there was a witness he could use to identify Marcus. Worry about Dylan himself, for few bikers knew Marcus's real identity. "Tell him to stay put. I'm coming back for him."

Kara talked to Dylan and gasped. "Okay, okay. I'll be there. I promise." She hung up.

Jace's heart raced. This wasn't good. What the hell did Mike have planned?

"I'll get him. You stay here."

"He wants to see me. He doesn't trust anyone else, Jace."

Great. The kid had a guilty conscience now? Couldn't he have waited? Dylan knew who Marcus was, and that wasn't good for the kid.

Exasperated, he pulled off his helmet. "Fine. Leave the car. Get on. But let's hurry."

Kara leaned away. Huge blue eyes stared at him.

The real terror in her voice made him pause. Squint at her. "Babe, why are you so scared of my bike?"

"Please, Jace, I can't do this."

Exasperated, he looked at her. Really looked. It wasn't scorn on her face, or disgust for the lifestyle she thought he'd embraced. No, it was simple fear.

Real fear, the paralyzing kind. Fear for Dylan.

Panic flared in her eyes, the pupils indicating Kara was ready for flight-or-fight. He couldn't risk either.

"Take your car. But you have to hurry."

When they arrived back, Kara parked a block away. Jace parked next to her.

At the clubhouse, he paused outside the door. It was quiet. Too quiet.

Not even insects hummed, as if creatures of the night sensed something dreadful.

He unlocked the clubhouse door and went inside, motioning for Kara to remain outside.

Someone had turned off the television. The kids finally fell asleep. Jace removed his Glock from the back holster and chambered a round.

Ominous stillness. No snoring, no sounds of anyone turning over in their sleep, or someone padding to the bathroom and flushing the toilet. Even during the night, people made noise.

Gun cupped in his hand, he advanced into the clubhouse. Now, the tingling down his spine increased, as he smelled something in the air other than the sour stench of beer, stale cigarette smoke and fried food.

The coppery slickness of blood.

A single light that illuminated the bar remained on, cutting through the darkness. Jace rounded the corner, his gun held out. Nothing. No one. His gaze roamed the room. All seemed normal.

He glanced at the next room, where the young bikers had been playing video games. The three kids, including Dylan.

They'd been celebrating a daring heist of six figures in jewels. And Dylan had seen Marcus. Dylan knew the man's identity.

As he entered the room, he knew instantly there was nothing to celebrate.

Two of the bikers sat on the sofa, heads flung back. He instantly saw the wounds on their bodies. Stabbed to death. Quiet and lethal.

Dylan was missing. Where the hell was the kid?

His heart thudded loudly. Careful not to leave evidence, he searched the room for another body. Nothing. Jace backed out of the room and headed for the safe tucked behind the bar. No need to remember the combination. The metal door was opened, showing the safe's interior—a stack of one-hundred-dollar bills, drugs and some passports.

The stolen jewels were missing.

Squatting down, he studied the safe. The door had a combination lock only Mike and Lance knew, but anyone who watched Mike could have memorized it.

Jace uttered a low curse and stood. It had to be one of the guys who'd participated in tonight's theft. Or Dylan.

He rounded the bar as Kara entered the clubhouse and started for the game room.

"Dylan? I'm here, baby."

Cursing, Jace sprinted after her.

Too late. She saw.

Immobilized, she stood at the room's doorway, her body wrought with tense fear. A whimper escaped her. Suddenly, she seemed to be boneless, staggering back as her knees buckled.

Jace caught her in his arms. "Easy," he soothed.

"Dylan...oh, dear heavens, Jace. Where's Dylan? He couldn't have done this!"

He turned her around, put a finger to his mouth. Wide-eyed and trembling, she swallowed hard and gave a brief nod of understanding.

Wasting no time, he hustled her outside.

He wiped his prints off every surface he'd touched. So careful he'd been not to leave evidence of his presence for the local cops to find that wiping off the prints didn't take long. Upon returning upstairs, he did the same to the room, the doorknobs and the common bathroom.

By the time they left, hurrying out of the parking lot, dawn had broken on the horizon. Fiery orange and deep violet streaked the sky, a wash of nature's watercolor art. Warm air tinged with a hint of thick humidity greeted them. It was still quiet, but sounds of the world waking up filtered through; traffic on the nearby roadway, dogs barking in the distance and birds singing a sweet melody.

It was a sharp contrast to the brutal ugliness they'd left inside the clubhouse. Jase's heart pounded as he thought of how he'd been upstairs with Kara. They could have been dead as well if they had stayed.

Or more than likely, whoever did this knew he was upstairs and wanted him to take the fall for the murders.

She shook her head. "Jace, we have to call the police! Those poor kids... What is going on here? Who would kill them?"

He whirled, gripped her shoulders. "No cops. We can't risk it."

As she stared at him with huge eyes, he softened his tone. "Please, Kara. I know you haven't given me reason to lately, but please, trust me."

Her shoulders rose and fell. "Do I have a choice? Where's Dylan? We have to find him."

"That's one reason I don't want the local authorities alerted yet."

Kara stopped in her tracks. "You mean...he could have done this?"

"Anything is possible."

"No! Not Dylan. He's a good kid who got mixed up with the wrong crowd. Jace, he's not a cold-blooded killer!"

I want to believe you. But it isn't looking good for him, Kara.

He herded her toward the street where he'd parked his motorcycle and she had parked her car. "Let's go."

"Where?"

"I'm following you back to your house, where you're going to pack a few things and then I'm taking you someplace where no one can find you. And if they do, you'll be protected."

Kara began to shake. Jace put his hands on her trembling shoulders. "Bend over and breathe deep. That's my girl."

Droplets splashed on the concrete like raindrops, yet it was a clear night studded with starlight. Kara was silently sobbing, her tears staining the ground.

"We used to call nights like this magic nights because you could see constellations, even with all the city lights." Jace kept rubbing her shoulders, wishing she'd never gotten entangled in this.

He wished she'd moved away to a small town where nothing bad happened and she could sell her estate items without a care in the world. Certainly without seeing two teenagers dead on a faded orange sofa, looks of shock and terror on their young faces.

Two teenagers who had their lives stretched out before them, who would never again play video games or ride their crotch rockets through rush-hour traffic, scaring motorists. He felt sick, remembering their bodies on the sofa.

Jace squeezed her shoulders as she straightened up and handed her a bandana he fished out of his pocket.

She blinked, dried her nose and eyes. "You always keep these on hand?"

"When I'm around a lady, yeah."

Kara flashed a brief smile and then her mouth wobbled again. "So much blood. There was so much blood... Why would anyone kill them? They were barely babies."

"Babies who carried weapons and committed felonies. You okay now?"

She nodded.

He glanced around. They had to leave. Now.

The sun was starting to climb in the sky as he pulled up to Kara's driveway. Jace cut the bike's engine. The others would be at the clubhouse or the garage, starting the day's work.

Discovering the dead bodies and missing jewels.

The Devil's Patrol clubhouse had always been known as the Devil's Den.

Today it fit, since they'd left behind hell and three dead young men who would never again see the light of dawn.

He studied her sedan as Kara hurried into her house. It was a new model. A sticker on the back windshield was the only decoration.

Watch for motorcycles.

Jace blinked. Son of a gun...she hated bikes. Why advise other drivers to be careful of them on the road? It made no sense.

Jace went inside. Kara had brought her love of antiques into her home. Even his untrained eye knew the few pieces in her living room were expensive. Jace went to a round table and a squat lamp sitting on it. A lead crystal vase stood next to the lamp, filled with dried lavender.

Something else adorned the table. Jace's breath hitched.

He picked up the clear crystal frog nearly hidden behind the lamp. Swore. His fingers traced the edges, noting that the frog had been carefully dusted, since each crack and crevice was clean.

Jace pocketed the frog.

"Pack only what you need," he called as he walked down the hallway. "No suitcase filled with makeup or false eyelashes."

"I'm not high-maintenance, Jace."

He stood at her bedroom door. "I was teasing."

Open on the bed was a Louis Vuitton overnight case. Kara stood at her dresser, a fistful of lace panties in one hand. He swallowed hard at the sight. Despite the threats trailing them, the grim scene they'd left behind, Kara holding her silk-and-lace underwear made his imagination go wild.

Down, boy. Get her the hell out of here. Yet he had to find out. Jace removed the frog from his jeans pocket and held it in his palm. "I saw this. Why did you keep it?"

Kara glanced at the frog, and color suffused her face. "I don't know." A shrug. "I like frogs. Maybe I found it hard get rid of it."

He stared at the frog. "I remember the day I gave you this. We had only been dating a short time. Went to that antique fair and you were educating...well, trying to educate me on the finer points of valuable antiques. I bought this because—"

"I said you were like the frog prince, except instead of kissing a frog and turning him into a snobby handsome prince, I kissed a handsome prince and he turned into a real man, who liked hot dogs as much as he enjoyed a gourmet dinner and wasn't afraid of a woman knowing more than he did."

A slight smile touched his mouth. "Yeah. That was a special day."

They'd gone to his condominium that night and he'd cooked her a simple dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. They'd killed a decent bottle of red wine and made love for the first time, long into the night. The little frog had sat on his nightstand, a witness to their tangled passion, a secret smile on his crystal face.

They had it good back then, when he thought nothing would separate them. Felt as if he'd found the woman who knew his soul, a woman he wanted to make happy for the rest of his life. He'd felt it deep in his bones that Kara was the one.

Jace turned away and placed the little frog on her dresser. Those days were long gone. "Hurry up."

To his surprise, she picked up the frog, wrapped it in a shirt and tucked it carefully into her suitcase.

As she came into the living room, Kara gripped her suitcase.

"Do you think whoever killed those kids will come here looking for me? That biker, Mike, he saw me with you, Jace."

"He'll come looking for me before he targets you, babe. But you have a great security system and even better neighbors."

She bit her lip. "Where are we going?"

"Someplace safe."

"Not good enough, Jace. I need to know where, because if you don't tell me, I'm driving to the bank and a safe-deposit box."

"For your underwear?" Jace frowned, totally confused.

"You are such a guy."

Kara squatted down, unzipped her case and withdrew a velvet bag. After she opened it, he stared inside.

Jewels. Diamonds, emeralds, rubies, sapphire jewelry.

"It's the rest of my stock from the Vandermeer sale. I didn't want to leave all of it in the store. I can't risk anyone taking these as well, so they're going with me until I can get a safe-deposit box."

Kara tossed the case inside and zipped up her overnight bag. Jace looked around. "Don't worry. We're headed to someplace safe, where you and the jewelry will be protected. We'll take my bike."

"I'm driving."

"I want to get there today, not next week." Jace sighed.

Kara scowled. "I don't drive like an old lady."

"No, an old lady is a NASCAR driver compared to you, babe." He took the keys, jingled them. "Fine. I don't have time to argue. The sooner you're away from here, the better I'll feel. You follow me. Let's go."

As he wheeled her suitcase out to the car, she looked around as if for the last time. Kara hugged herself as he opened the trunk and deposited her suitcase.

"Will your friends object to me staying there, and you ringing their doorbell this early? It's barely six."

"They're early risers."

He itched to get her to safer ground, leave her where no bad guys could find her.

But Lance's reach had many tentacles. He only hoped she'd be safe, and out of danger.