AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But what was he doing, associating with them? Certainly there were other bike clubs he could join to indulge his love of motorcycles.
The parking lot had only a few trucks with empty boat trailers. Another truck pulled into the graveled lot, parked closer to the aquarium. A man wearing a tan ball cap, faded khaki shorts and a white T-shirt climbed out and fetched a fishing pole from the back. The pole looked expensive, even from a distance.
Jace rejoined her, studying the newcomer with intensity. He fiddled with his sunglasses.
“Something about that guy,” he mused. “Did he just get here?”
Kara nodded.
As the fisherman walked down the dock, Kara’s unease grew. Something seemed off. On the surface, it was a serene place to stop and rest, with the clear blue sky overhead, the brilliant sun, the water gently lapping at the pilings. Yet she felt anxious.
Making an impatient sound, Jace shook his head. “We can’t wait much longer. This is odd. Brandy seemed reliable. Let me call her... Damn, signal’s weak in this spot.”
Kara watched him as he headed into the sun, pacing back and forth.
Returning to her, he pocketed his cell phone. “Brandy got delayed. She apologized for not meeting us.”
Kara’s stomach rumbled. “I guess I should have eaten back at Mom’s but I was too upset.”
He reached over, ran a thumb across her cheek, making her shiver. Once his touch had drawn them closer. Now, it only served as a reminder of what they had lost.
She pulled away and climbed down from the table. “Where is she?”
The frown denting his forehead made her uneasy. He removed his sunglasses, his gaze hard against the glare from the water. “She’s at least twenty minutes out. I don’t think we should wait.”
“Me, either.”
He scanned the marina and his gaze landed on the fisherman, who set his fishing pole into a holder at the dock. Jace’s body tensed.
“See that guy over there?”
She nodded.
“Notice anything unusual?”
Her stomach did a flip-flop from anxiety instead of hunger. “He’s fishing without any tackle. Or bait. Just the lure on his pole.”
“Right. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
As they headed back to the bike, Jace kept looking at the fisherman, who had turned to watch them. The man seemed to sense their departure, for he abruptly abandoned his fishing pole.
Jace quickened their pace. “Hurry,” he urged her.
Kara ran to the motorcycle, put her pack into a saddlebag and then climbed on. She put on the helmet as Jace reached for the handgun tucked into the side of his jeans. Not caring about his obvious interest, the fisherman hurried down the dock, but suddenly, as if by a stroke of good luck, his pole jerked in the holder.
“You got one,” Jace called out. “Better run if you don’t want your gear in the drink.”
As Jace tucked his gun away, mounted the bike and then started the engine, she heard the man’s curses as he did an about-face and ran to his fishing pole. It suddenly flew out of the holder and into the water.
Kara didn’t look back to see if the man followed his pole into the bay to retrieve it as they roared off, heading on the causeway toward the interstate again.
It was probably nothing. Only her tired and quite overactive imagination seeing shadows behind shadows.
But she had a bad feeling about all this. Someone was following them.
Kara hugged him tight as Jace headed north on the interstate, making good time.
His quick call to his boss proved worrisome. Word on the street had spread about the clubhouse murder and Dylan was a suspect. The local law enforcement, local LEOs, as they called them, wanted him for questioning.
