Dash of Peril

by Lori Foster

  For only a moment she looked defiant, then grateful. “Was I that obvious?”

  “Only to me because I’m paying very close attention.”

  A smile flickered over her lips before she tossed back the aspirin and washed them down. Nodding to the bags on the passenger seat, Margo asked, “What’s all that?”

  “Groceries, dinner, the clothes and stuff I grabbed.” He hauled the bags out, holding them all in one hand.

  The amount of clothes he’d packed in his overnight bag—enough for a week—seemed to throw her, but all she said was, “Dinner?”

  “I figured I’d cook tonight. Fried chicken.” Your favorite.

  That left her momentarily mute. “You cook?”

  Didn’t everyone? Dash said only, “I’m a man of many talents.”

  “And you want to cook tonight?”

  He smiled, knowing she’d had other plans—plans to thwart his determination to wait until she had the splint removed. But he had a surprise on that score, too.

  Bending to her ear, he whispered, “I’ve been thinking about that, about the care we need to take with your arm.”

  “My arm is fi—”

  “About making you scream with a killer O. And you know, I just might have come up with an idea that’ll work.”

  Eyes darkening and cheeks flushing, Margo went perfectly still. Even the comically interested stares from Logan and Reese didn’t reach her.

  “I can make you crazy with pleasure, but you have to trust me. You have to let me lead. And you—” his lips touched her ear “—will follow my directions...no matter what they are.”

  Her breath shuddered in; she let it out in a soft groan. “Okay.”

  Knowing he had her, Dash’s smile warmed even more. “Come on then. Let’s get the damned rental car so I can get you home alone and start on this very long, slow process.”

  “Long and slow?”

  “Agonizingly long. Excruciatingly slow.” He glanced at her breasts and saw that her nipples were stiffened points against her blouse. “Foreplay that I guarantee you’re going to enjoy.”

  She shivered and Dash put his arm around. But she didn’t move.

  “Margo? Logan and Reese are watching. One foot in the front of the other, honey.” He urged her forward and she finally got with it.

  “How you can distract me like this when usually my brain would be eaten up with work—”

  “You won’t slide on work. You’re better than that. But this way you can tackle it with a clear head.” He kissed her temple. “You’re every bit as primed as I am, aren’t you?”

  “Well, I am now.” But then she let out a long sigh and admitted, “Yes, I was plenty twitchy before your little tease, too. God’s truth, Dash, you plague me.”

  Logan and Reese pretended to be busy, but they didn’t fool anyone.

  With her coat folded over an arm, Margo hid herself as she approached them. “The second either of you hears anything, I want to be told.”

  Reese took the keys that Dash offered him. “They’re releasing Mr. Sweeny from the hospital tonight, so I’m going to run by there myself before I head home for the day, just to make sure everything is set. I’ll let you know how he and the girl are doing.”

  Still worried, Margo thanked him.

  “After I drop you two off I’m going to meet up with Cannon at the sports center to talk with the boys just in case I can find out anything else.”

  “Pepper allows you to be out late?”

  Logan started to reply, realized Dash had baited him, and instead glanced at the fading sun. “She understands the responsibilities of my job.”

  “Yeah, Pepper is great.” But he enjoyed taking part in the running joke. Pepper could be noticeably demanding when it suited her, and despite all earlier indications, she was a true mother hen when it came to worrying about the people she loved.

  Margo seated herself in the back of Logan’s car. “Cannon might not be comfortable leaving Tipton and Yvette. I got the feeling he’s taking responsibility for them both.”

  “For the entire neighborhood,” Dash said. “At least that’s how it seemed to me.”

  Rather than get in the front seat as Margo had probably expected, Dash squeezed into the back beside her, forcing her to scoot over, and then he put an arm around her before she could move all the way to the other side.

  Smiling at her disgruntled expression, he helped to fasten her seat belt.

  “We talked about that.” Logan got behind the wheel, denying her the opportunity to switch things around. “I convinced him they’d be safer once we found the guys responsible, so for now, he’s willing to trust Reese to help see to their protection.”

  “We’ll definitely get them,” Margo decreed. “Sooner would be better than later.”

  “We’re on it.” Logan started the car. “But until then, watch your ass.”

  “My words to you, Detective.” Margo got comfortable against Dash. “But yes, we’ll be careful.” She glanced up at Dash. “Both of us.”

  * * *

  PULLING HIS STOCKING cap a little lower, Curtis ordered, “Follow them.”

  Toby, who’d also worn a hat and kept his back to the scene, glanced over his shoulder. Two vehicles headed in two different directions. Without looking at Curtis, he asked, “Which one?”

  “The car.” Curtis took off his glasses and polished them on a sleeve. “I want to know where they go, what they do—I want to know where she lives, if she’s alone or if he stays with her. I want to know...everything.”

  In that inscrutable way of his, Toby said, “No problem,” and in two long strides he reached his big muscle truck. He’d catch them at the next light and because he was good, Saul knew he wouldn’t lose them.

  Curtis held back, looking at the police station, at the truck the big cop drove, and then at Saul.

  Feeling like an anxious puppy hoping for affection, Saul waited. Ever since the cluster-fuck where the cop had gotten away, Curtis had been more glacial than usual—which was saying something given Curtis’s aloof manner. Saul was used to him being that way to others. And to some extent he froze Saul out, too.

  But never like this.

  Taking in Saul’s ball cap, his aviator sunglasses, Curtis smiled.

  And Jesus, that scared Saul more than anything else. He’d been told to disguise himself and so he had. He’d left the morning whiskers on his face, dressed down in an old corduroy jacket and worn jeans. Should he have worn a fake mustache, too?

  Very uncertain of his brother’s mood, he asked, “Everything okay, Curtis?”

  “It will be.” He approached Saul, his expression indulgent in that big-brotherly way. He cupped his face. “No more fuckups, Saul.”

  His thighs actually felt shaky. “No—no, there won’t be. I swear.”

  “You like spending my money, don’t you, Saul? You enjoy the house I supply, the clothes. The playtimes?”

  “Yes.” It was thanks to Curtis that Saul never had to work a legitimate job. Curtis was a genius at making money, and even better at entertaining.

  “Very soon,” Curtis continued, as if Saul hadn’t spoken, “you’ll get the opportunity to right your wrongs, to make up for the extra trouble you’ve caused me.” His fingers tightened, squeezing into Saul’s face, deliberately painful. “You will not disappoint me again.”

  As Curtis walked away, Saul stood there, working his jaw, awed by his brother’s strength...and hating him just a little for it.

  * * *

  MARGO COULDN’T BELIEVE how affected she was by the promise of getting alone with Dash. Never had she experienced such a level of anticipation. And here she’d thought he might not be exciting enough.

  She’d missed the mark on that one by a mile.

  Dash’s musc
ular thigh pressed against hers and his long arm kept her close. Logan continued to talk, probably just to make conversation, but Margo didn’t bother trying to follow along. When necessary, Dash replied.

  He also kept his fingers teasing her arm. The sunny day had warmed his skin, amplifying his scent, making her blood surge. She wanted to put her nose in his neck, but not with Logan continually glancing in the rearview mirror.

  Hopefully on the outside she looked impassive because on the inside an inferno of sensation and need burned. She kept thinking about Dash naked, running her hands over all that solid muscle, rough hair, warm flesh.... She could almost feel the wet heat of his kiss, his hard fingers on her, in her....

  She closed her eyes, but that only made her picture him over her, his biceps bulging, his hair-roughened thighs spreading her more slender legs as he slid deep.

  Drawing in a shuddering breath, she tried to compose herself—and instead drew the attention of both men.

  Gaze dark and knowing, Dash watched her.

  Logan asked, “You okay?”

  Get it together, Margaret. “I’m sorry. I... It’s not easy for me to...” The stammering didn’t help. She straightened away from Dash. “No offense to you or Reese, but I’d rather be handling things myself.”

  “I know.” Sympathetic, Logan said, “I’d feel the same, so I get it. But don’t worry about it. You’ll be plenty involved.”

  “I’d better be.”

  “And,” Logan said, ignoring her tone, “that’s why I’m telling you that we’re being followed.”

  She frowned, then grabbed Dash’s thigh when he started to look out the rear window. “Don’t.” Leaning forward, she asked Logan, “You’re sure?”

  “Whoever he is, he’s good, staying just far enough back that it’s not obvious. But yeah, he’s been on us almost since we left the station.”

  No longer distracted by Dash, Margo’s blood surged for a whole different reason. “Can you lose him?”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  She considered things. “If Dash wasn’t staying with me, I wouldn’t mind laying a trap for the bastard. But—”

  Dash spoke over her, saying, “Fuck that. Don’t change things because of me.”

  At least he hadn’t objected to the trap part. In so many ways, Dash proved that he trusted her ability, her instincts and her position.

  Oh, he was still a guy with a guy’s instinct to protect the little lady. But he didn’t downplay her own skill.

  “No,” she said, thinking it through. “It’s never a good idea to leave a trail to your home. If we knew he was the only one involved—”

  “But we know he isn’t,” Dash interjected. “There are at least three.”

  “And maybe more,” Logan said. “So if I can make a suggestion...”

  “Let’s hear it.” Margo leaned forward to look through the side-view mirror but she didn’t see anyone suspicious.

  “How about I draw him out?” Already making the decision, Logan turned away from their destination. “I can lead him on a winding chase until he’s forced to get closer. At the very least we can maybe pick up the plates.”

  Appearing fascinated by it all, Dash asked, “Do you think they might match the plates from the van?”

  “Doubtful. We’d have to be dealing with morons. Plus it’s a truck following us, not a van.” Margo opened her seat belt and moved into the window seat—away from Dash. Her Glock had a fully loaded clip and she had another weapon in her purse. It bothered her that Dash was along for the ride, and it bothered her more that she cared.

  Making up her mind, she met Logan’s gaze in the rearview mirror and gave a nod. “Let’s do it.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AS ROCK-STEADY as Logan with the same lethal look, Margo said to him, “Don’t interfere.”

  “Wouldn’t think of it.” But Dash couldn’t help but look—repeatedly—for their tail. He saw several trucks but none seemed more nosy than the others. As always the mind of a cop intrigued him.

  He wanted to tell Margo not to hurt her arm, but knew better. Instead he asked his brother, “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yeah.” Logan took a right, then an immediate left, but he drove without haste—as if he didn’t know a killer followed them. “Be cool. Stop looking around.”

  “Okay.” He sat forward, but damn it wasn’t easy.

  “He’s good,” Margo complained.

  “Meaning?”

  Logan said, “He’s not getting close enough for me to see anything. He might be on to us.”

  “The bastard is even dropping back,” Margo said.

  Dash thought about it for a second, then said, “Is he far enough back that you could let me out without him seeing?”

  Logan shot a sharp look over his shoulder. “No.”

  But Margo took it differently. “It might be possible.” And then to Logan she said, “There’s no reason for him to be involved in this.”

  Laughing, Logan stated the obvious. “He’s not dodging out to avoid the danger, Lieutenant. He wants out so can lay in wait for the bastard to go by.”

  Incredulous, Margo twisted to face Dash.

  Dash tried for nonchalance. “If I’m just a bystander on the road, I could get a good look at him, read his plates, get you a description—”

  “No!” But that shouted word must not have sufficed, because she pressed her anger forward and said not two inches from his face, “Are you out of your mind?”

  Was she incensed from worry, or because she didn’t want him butting in? “How could it hurt?” Gently, Dash touched her cheek, but she jerked away. “I seriously doubt he’s twisted enough to shoot me on the street corner. And look, there’s a park up ahead—”

  “No and no!” She turned her face away, grumbling to herself about male stupidity.

  “Actually,” Logan said, “it’s not a bad idea.”

  “Absolutely not.” They turned another corner, and Margo cursed. “We’re losing him anyway. He’s so far back I can’t even see him anymore.”

  “If we can’t see him, he can’t see us, right?” Dash pointed to a small convenience store. “Pull in there, around the back. We can watch to see if he shows up.”

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Logan said, already maneuvering into the lot. “You will remain in the car, Dash. Got it?”

  “I already said I wouldn’t interfere.”

  Surly, Margo gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “You’re having way too much fun, damn you.”

  “I like watching you work.” Especially when she wasn’t in any real danger. Dash stretched out an arm along the back of the seat, but he didn’t quite touch her yet. He’d confused her enough for one day. “More so this time since no one is shooting at us and you aren’t bleeding.”

  The angle Logan used kept the car hidden, but if anyone drove past, they’d be able to see. Margo kept watch out the back just in case their tail had the same idea about pulling over.

  Thirty seconds later—which felt like an eternity to Dash—the big truck drove past.

  “There he is,” Logan murmured.

  “Are we going after him?” Dash wasn’t sure of the protocol for this sort of thing.

  “No.” Margo answered since Logan was busy putting in a call. She sat back in frustration. “We’ll have the plates checked, see if we can find out anything.”

  “Couldn’t you have someone pick him up?”

  “For what?” She holstered her weapon. “We don’t know for certain that he’s done anything wrong.”

  Logan finished a call. “They’ll run the plates and get back to me.” He started another call.

  “Who now?” Margo asked.

  Without answering her, Logan said into the phone, “Rowdy, hey. Sorr
y to bother you, but I’ve got a plate number and a description for you, just in case you find out anything.”

  Margo rolled her eyes. “I forgot we brought Rowdy in on this.”

  “That he forced his way in, you mean?” Dash grinned. Damn, but Rowdy led an exciting life. If being a bar owner wasn’t enough, he also managed to get enmeshed in more conspiracies than anyone else Dash knew.

  Rowdy was more domesticated now, but deep down, he still relished life on the edge.

  Logan relayed some details to Rowdy, adding, “It was a big black muscle truck all tricked out. Light bar over the front bumper, a silver toolbox in the bed. The driver wore a ball cap and sunglasses, but I could tell he has a dark mustache and goatee.” Logan nodded. “Yeah, right. If you find out anything, do not—” He listened, and his frown eased. “Good. I’m glad you understand.”

  While Logan and Rowdy talked a little more, Margo seemed lost in deep thought.

  Dash touched the soft curls in her hair—such a stark contrast to her iron determination. “What are you thinking?” Not about him this time, though he knew earlier she’d been daydreaming about sex, about what they would do tonight, about what he would do to her.

  She’d been so flushed, so soft and aroused and trembling, he’d gotten semihard just looking at her.

  Now, though, sex was far from her mind. She had that calculating, concentrated look about her that showed concern and cunning and an indomitable will to take charge.

  Margo kept her attention on the street. “I’m betting he had fictitious plates, that he and his cronies are too inept to kill me, but too cunning to be easily caught. I’m thinking that this is going to take longer than it should.” Her gaze flickered to Dash. “And I’m thinking that once I get them, I’ll make damn sure they never again have the ability to hurt women.”

  “Castration?” Dash asked, half teasing, but with the way she looked he just wasn’t sure.

  “Life in prison.” She turned away again.

  By-the-book Margo. She was as honorable as she was sexy. A nice combo. “Will you share the info with Cannon also?”