Chapter Six

R idge wheeled into the parking lot and saw Eddie and Zack had already arrived and were suited up and ready to go. He hadn't asked any questions when Asher had called and told him to report for duty. Ridge shifted his SUV into park and cut the engine, then grabbed his gear and stepped out into the muggy summer air.

"What's up, fellas?" Ridge asked as his friends approached. Zack and Eddie had been gone all day, transporting a fugitive, while Ridge and a few others had been assigned to the federal courthouse. "I didn't know you guys were back."

"Thank fuck," Eddie said. "Although I wish I were going home instead of assisting the Miami field office. They uncovered a possible local connection to a fugitive on their most-wanted list. Asher reached out to SPD for assistance, and a CI spotted our target."

"Another birthday party?" Ridge asked as he put on the last of his gear.

Zack snorted. "Not this time. We're heading to The Cockpit. Maybe you'll run into Sugar."

"Maybe the bad guy is Sugar," Eddie countered.

"Fuck you both."

Zack paused long enough to have a good laugh at Ridge's expense before continuing. "Sergeant Locke from SPD major crimes is meeting us at the club with a few officers from his unit to assist. Ready to roll?"

Ridge did a quick inventory. "Yep."

"I call shotgun," Eddie said and sprinted to the passenger side of Zack's rig.

"Asshole," Ridge grumbled as he slid onto the rear bench seat. "So, who are we looking for?"

Eddie handed him a fugitive sheet for Rodney James, a dark-haired, pale man with a vivid scar across his forehead and teardrops tatted beneath both eyes. The man's dark eyes looked as dull and lifeless as a shark's. Ridge whistled as he skimmed over the man's arrest and conviction history. "How does a man who's been convicted and sent to jail for burglary, aggravated assault, and possession of illegal firearms land back on the street to become a suspect in a homicide?"

"You're preaching to the choir, Ridgey," Eddie said.

"We have to assume the guy is armed and dangerous, so going into a crowded club with guns blazing isn't the answer," Zack said.

Ridge would've argued the club would be less crowded on a worknight, but he'd seen firsthand it didn't matter when the hottest waiters served the best wings on the planet. Like it had too many times to count, his mind shifted to a platinum-blond waiter with pretty lips and a wicked tongue. Ridge had been seduced by both the words that had come out of his mouth and the skillful way Sugar had kissed him. Two weeks had passed since they'd parted ways outside Tranquil Breezes, and Ridge had wanted to text or call him every single day. The urge was even stronger after finding out a dangerous felon was potentially among the crowd eating wings.

"Don't do it," Eddie said.

"Do what?"

His friend turned and looked at him. "A warning text could set off a disastrous chain of events. Let's just get to the club and assess the situation."

Ridge knew Eddie was right and nodded.

The ride to the club didn't take long, and Zack drove around back and parked in a far corner next to another dark SUV tucked away in the shadows. Where the front of the building was lit for Jesus, the back was pitch black save for a single light above a door. Ridge didn't want to think about the questionable activities that most likely occurred back there or who on the staff might be participating in them.

Eddie rolled down his window, stuck his head out, and made some weird bird sound. The back door of the SUV next to them opened, and Detective Royce Locke stepped out. Ridge had worked with the blond man several times and liked him a lot.

"You big idiot," Locke said as he gripped Eddie in a headlock and gave him a noogie. "Why don't you broadcast to everyone that we're setting up a sting operation." Locke released Eddie, opened the rear passenger door, and climbed in beside Ridge. "How's it going, Smoky?" It was always fun to see which mountain range Locke would use to address him.

"It's always good to see you, Locke," he said, bumping the man's raised fist. "So, what's the plan?"

Before Locke could answer, a door opened at the back of the building, and a man stepped out. Platinum-blond hair shone brightly in the single exterior light. Sugar . After only a few steps, the guy was fully engulfed by the darkness.

"Is that Kendall?" Zack asked.

"Sure looked like it," Locke replied.

Son of a bitch . His Sugar was the same guy his friends had been eager for him to meet?

"Is he your CI?" Ridge asked, hoping his voice came out sounding normal.

"No," Locke replied, "I met Kendall Blakemore during a homicide investigation about two years ago. He came home after a weekend away and discovered his roommate had been murdered."

"How awful," Eddie said sadly. "Poor guy."

Ridge suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He hated that something so ugly had touched the beautiful man.

Locke rolled down the window and stuck his head out. " Psst . Kendall. Come here," he called out.

"Fuck no," came the reply. "I am not appearing on a future episode of Disappeared ."

Everyone in the car chuckled.

"Nice going, Locke," Zack said. "The guy is probably running for his life now."

Locke opened the door and slipped out. "Kendall, it's me, Detective Locke."

"Uh-huh," he replied sassily. "I don't want candy, and I'm not helping you look for a puppy." Though Ridge heard the uncertainty in his voice, Kendall had sounded closer. He either recognized Locke's voice or was too curious for his own good.

Zack turned on his headlights, illuminating Locke long enough for the man to see him.

"Oh, it really is you," Kendall said, relief making his voice sound throaty. "Does Sawyer know you're lurking around in the dark trying to pick up guys?"

The driver-side window on the SUV beside them rolled down, and Locke's boyfriend, Sawyer Key, stuck his head out. "Yes, I do."

Kendall shook his head. "Perverts." He heaved a sigh. "All I wanted was twenty minutes of peace and quiet. I guess that's just too much to ask for tonight. What can I do for Savannah's finest?"

"Step into the SUV so we can chat," Locke told him. He opened the door for Kendall, who started to get in until he saw Ridge sitting on the bench seat.

Blue eyes widened, and soft pink lips parted on a gasp. "Oh," Kendall said, sounding a little breathless. "You could've just used the phone number I gave you. There was no need to stage a"—he waved his hand around—"whatever this is."

Ridge couldn't help but smile. "Hello, Sugar."

"Sugar?" Eddie and Zack asked. Ridge ignored them, but they snagged Kendall's attention.

"Oh, hey," he said cheerfully. "Zack and Eddie, right? You work with Asher." Then he turned wide eyes on Ridge. "I can't believe I didn't make the connection when you showed off your badge. I blame it on stress."

"When did he show you his badge?" Eddie asked.

"When we toured an apartment complex a couple weeks ago. I think Ridge was looking for an excuse to show off his hot body, though."

Ridge fought off the urge to squirm. "Was not." But maybe a little.

"Aren't you a little overdressed, Kendall?" Locke asked. "Where're your normal booty shorts." Good question . Not that Ridge hated the new look.

Kendall ran his long, slender fingers over the length of his tie. It was navy blue with gold pinstripes. "I've recently been promoted to manager. In fact, tonight is my first shift."

Something in his voice said it had been a real humdinger. Ridge wanted to probe for more details, but a round of congratulations filtered through the vehicle.

"Thanks," Kendall said. "So, um, not to be rude or anything, but if this isn't an elaborate scheme for Ridge to get me into bed, what's going on here?" Kendall directed his pale eyes to Ridge and whispered, "You wouldn't have to go to such extremes, by the way." The truth of his declaration was evident in Kendall's sultry smile.

Ridge would've responded, hopefully just as wittily, if his tongue hadn't been glued to the roof of his mouth. Kendall nibbled on his bottom lip while waiting for a reply.

"Ridge, show him the printout of our fugitive," Eddie said.

He'd forgotten all about the sheet of paper. Before he could react, Kendall scooted right up against Ridge and peered at the document. The man smelled like an intoxicating mix of crisp, citrusy cologne and chicken wings. Ridge wasn't sure what he found more alluring, and what the hell did that say about him?

Kendall snorted and shook his head. "I should've known." He rattled off the man's convictions out loud as well as his alleged crimes. "What a charmer."

"You recognize him?" Eddie asked.

"Oh yeah." He told them about two waiters getting into a fight while trying to gain the guy's favor. "He's put away at least twelve pounds of chicken wings."

"Ought to make him easier to apprehend," Zack said.

"Unless he's dripping in sauce," Kendall countered.

Recovering his ability to speak, Ridge said, "So he's still in there?"

"He was a few minutes ago, but he could've left since I stepped outside."

"We need to act fast," Zack said. "Can you get us a table near him?"

"We can't all go in," Royce said. "Just one of us needs to scout the club."

"We need a table close to James but not in his direct line of sight," Eddie added.

"Let me go in and see what's available," Kendall said. "Which one of you should I text when the coast is clear?"

"Ridge, stop playing hard to get and give the man your digits."

"Thank you, Eddie." Kendall held out his phone to Ridge.

Ridge accepted the device and entered his number. "Don't abuse it."

Kendall winked when Ridge returned the phone. "You should be so lucky."

Locke opened the car door and stepped out so Kendall could return to the club.

"Hey," Ridge said. Kendall stopped and turned around. "Be careful."

"I will."

Ridge watched him disappear into the darkness. "I don't like this," he said once Kendall had reentered the club.

"All he has to do is tell us if James is still there," Zack said.

A few minutes later, Ridge received a text from Kendall. Found the perfect table . I'll meet you at the host station up front .

"I'm up." Ridge pocketed his phone. "You guys get into position. I'll text you when he's on his way out so you can take him down in the parking lot."

Once Ridge stepped out of the vehicle, he removed his personal protection gear and tucked his gun into his waistband at the small of his back. His shirt was long and loose enough to hide the outline. After tucking his badge into his pocket, Ridge gave each of them a fist bump and headed toward the front of the building.

The wind kicked up, but the air was too humid to be a relief. Something skittered across the blacktop, and Ridge hoped it was leaves and detritus instead of rodents with beady eyes and sharp teeth. Faint moans echoed from the shadows but not the kind that stirred alarm. It wasn't Ridge's responsibility to police the activities going on in the dark. He had a fugitive to apprehend.

Kendall was at the host station talking to the same cute brunet he'd seen on his first visit. The guy batted his eyelashes at Ridge and said, "Well, hello. We meet again. May I—"

"This one is all mine, Seth." Kendall maneuvered around the station and stopped in front of Ridge. He rose on his tiptoes and pressed a firm kiss to Ridge's lips. Kendall eased back and looked into his eyes, and Ridge felt truly claimed by the possessiveness he saw there. He tried to remember this was all for show, but…was it? There was no denying the electrical charge between them. Kendall pulled back slowly and continued to gaze into Ridge's eyes. Want and need pressed heavily against him, and it felt like Ridge had been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer.

The flight attendant sighed heavily. "Lucky bastard."

Kendall laughed and led him deeper into the club. The dance floor was packed with bodies writhing together to a bass-heavy song Ridge didn't recognize. He used the loud music as an excuse to lean into Kendall. "Don't these people have to work in the morning?"

Kendall placed a proprietary arm around Ridge's waist, and he liked it a lot. "You're only young once."

As Ridge watched the clubbers, he wondered what a night of carefree dancing might feel like. Could he even dance? He couldn't recall a single time where he'd been enticed to try.

"James just started in on another plate of sweet chili lime wings," Kendall said, interrupting his thoughts. At least one of them was focused on the mission. "I found a table with the perfect vantage point so you can alert the others when he leaves."

Ridge's stomach growled. "Sweet chili lime?"

Kendall nodded and smiled. "It's our flavor of the week."

"The name seems a little tame compared to Regret," Ridge said.

Kendall gestured to an empty table, and they stopped beside it. He smiled up at Ridge, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Though it lacks a snappy name, the sauce doesn't lack flavor. Maybe I'll send some home with you after you collar your perp."

"Collar my perp?"

"I watch way too many true-crime documentaries." Ridge sat down, and Kendall assessed him.

"Well, I definitely can't eat them now. The sauce might make it difficult to draw my weapon."

Kendall's lips quirked, and Ridge realized the double entendre he'd stepped into. "Well, you can't just sit here and look handsome. You're too conspicuous and will attract too much attention. What if I bring you an order of loaded fries? You can eat those with a fork and keep your hands clean and your head down to watch the per—um, the bad guy from the corner of your eye."

"You twisted my arm," Ridge replied. "Could I have a glass of water?" Beer was out of the question, and soda would keep him up all damn night.

"Certainly." Kendall cleared his throat and shifted his eyes to the left. "I'll be right back."

Ridge glanced to the left and saw Rodney James's table two rows over. He was positioned behind the fugitive and at an angle, providing Ridge the perfect vantage point. The man wouldn't see him unless he purposefully scanned the room, and his body language wasn't the least bit alert as he tore into a chicken wing. James was utterly at ease and enjoying his food.

Kendall returned a few minutes later with a plateful of crispy fries smothered in melted cheese, bacon, and chives. "I wasn't sure what you wanted to dip them in, so I brought you ranch and sweet chili sauce."

"Yes and yes," Ridge said, fighting off the urge to rub his hands together gleefully. Focus on the mission , asshole . He forced his eyes off the plate to look at Kendall. "I don't want you to do anything to tip James off, okay?" Kendall nodded. "Keep serving his wings and refilling his drink like normal. Don't over solicit, and don't ignore him. Any change could trigger his suspicion. Just give me a heads up after he asks for his bill."

Kendall released a deep breath. "Got it."

Ridge dug into his fries while sending a group text to Eddie and Zack. Eyes on target .

Yeah , but do you see James? Zack asked.

Ha fucking ha , Ridge replied. He glanced up to make sure his target was still in the same place.

Told you Kendall is the perfect guy for you , Eddie wrote.

I'll text you when James is on the move . Ridge speared a cheese-smothered fry and shoved it into his mouth. He had decent food, excellent scenery, and eyes on his target. As far as missions went, this takedown should be relatively easy.

So why was the hair on the back of his neck standing up?