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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.
