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“Got a date with her tomorrow night,” he lied.
The interest on Lance’s face increased. “Told the guys she wanted you. Give her a tour of the clubhouse and then use the room upstairs. Maybe you can warm her up for me if you don’t want her as your old lady.”
Scoring with Kara was the guy’s real goal, Jace realized. Cold sweat trickled down his back.
“Wait until tomorrow night, after Mike moves the jewels out. Let me know how you make out.”
Lance continued to make sexual suggestions about Kara that made Jace’s blood boil. But he managed to stay calm, and grin.
Lance glanced around. “Your job tonight is keeping Dylan in line. If I hear Dylan screwed up this job, I’m blaming you.”
The gang leader’s next words were a grim warning.
“Your new address will be out in the Everglades with the real gators. Permanently.”
Chapter 8
Jace knew he had to let the theft play out.
Shortly after 1:00 a.m., Jace waited in the shadows a block away from the target on a crotch rocket borrowed from the garage, one he’d fixed in a hurry after Lance gave the directive. He scanned the area. No cops. The night was quiet, not even the hint of a security guard patrolling this section of town.
No traffic, either, which made the store a perfect target.
Kara’s store. How he wished she’d moved someplace. Anyplace. Alaska would be fine.
Balancing himself on the bike, he gritted his teeth, watching the store while listening for traffic, for an alarm, for a poor innocent bystander chancing upon the scene. Lance had given orders. Jace was a diversion if anyone spotted them leaving the scene. He’d given Jace a semiautomatic pistol and ordered him to eradicate any witnesses.
Jace agreed, but he was here to make damn sure no one got hurt.
Stars blanketed the dark night, but a few clouds scudded over the lemon wedge of moon. The air was crisp and cool for southern Florida. He tugged at the hoodie of his black jacket, flexed his fingers. Tucked into a holster in the back of his jeans was the gun he didn’t intend to use, except to fire into the air overhead if necessary.
Lance never asked if I had good aim.
Engines running, three crotch rockets with riders sat outside Kara’s store, including Dylan. Kid was nervous as hell, bouncing up and down on the seat, revving the engine. The two others joked in low voices while the bikers were inside, helping themselves to the jewelry. Finally, the trio emerged, carrying backpacks. They jumped on the waiting bikes and roared off.
As instructed, Jace remained behind for a moment. He knew Lance set him up to take the fall for the burglary if cops showed up. He was the newbie.
Craning his neck, he saw a late-model sedan pull up near the store. Jace cursed. He knew that car. Kara.
Jace gunned the engine and took off after the others, weaving in and out of traffic as they reached downtown, hoping if Kara was foolish to give chase, she’d follow him and not the others. Diversion, all right.
Taking a turn, he leaned into it, using his right foot to balance as he glanced at the rearview mirrors. No one following.
After a few minutes, satisfied that Kara hadn’t given chase, he headed for the clubhouse. He stopped in front of the garage attached to the building, opened the door and parked the bike inside. Breathing easy, he sauntered into the clubhouse.
Club members were scarce tonight, knowing something was going down. Only the three kids, Dylan included, Big Mike, Snake and Maverick gathered in the living room around the scratched dining table. They all glanced up. Light glinted off the barrel of the Glock that Big Mike pointed at him.
Jace held up his hands. “Relax. It’s me.”
Big Mike lowered the gun. “Lock the door.”
Jace locked the door, then removed the pistol and placed it on the table. “No one followed me. Made sure of it.”
“Better not have.” Big Mike holstered the Glock. “Okay, guys, dump it.”
Three backpacks were tipped over, the contents clattering as they hit the wooden table.
Jace stared at the glittering array. Had to be more than six figures in bling. Rubies, sapphires, designer watches and the big prize—a diamond necklace.
