A Perfect Storm

by Lori Foster

  “Just where the hell do you think she’ll use that knife?” Jackson asked.

  Chris paused in his clean-up efforts to give Jackson a direct look. “She does not want to change.”

  “What does that mean?” Trace asked. “You actually think it’s okay for her to get involved in this stuff?”

  “I think she’s a very special girl with a unique background who can make her own decisions.”

  “Chris has a point.” Spencer lifted a long, curling ribbon from the table. “Can you imagine how it makes her feel?”

  Nodding, Molly whispered, “She is who she is, and yet we’ve all made it clear that she should be someone else.”

  “But given what she’s been through, how life molded her…” Priss closed her eyes a moment. “Changing is probably impossible.”

  His guts cramped at what he’d inadvertently put her through. “Disapproval isn’t easy for anyone.” Spencer crushed the ribbon in his fist. “She needs acceptance first.”

  “Well, hallelujah. You get the prize.” Chris threw a balled up wad of paper at Spencer. “How can she trust that any of you care, when you don’t accept her for who she is?”

  “There’s an order here,” Spencer agreed. He slouched in his chair with a groan. “And I for one have gone at it ass-backwards.”

  “Well, damn.” Jackson stood, then rubbed the back of his neck. “I just wanted to protect her.”

  “It’s what you do.” Alani took his hand. “But Arizona isn’t like most women.”

  “Or most victims,” he agreed.

  Amen to that. She was unlike…anyone. Stronger, thank God. More resilient. And so incredibly proud.

  “Damn it, I still have to give her my gift.” Jackson started to go after her.

  But Spencer said, “No, leave her be.”

  Looking very put out by the idea that Spencer would dare try to give him an order, Jackson slowly pivoted to stare at him. “Come again?”

  Not the least intimidated, Spencer rolled his eyes. “Give her the time she needs.”

  Forestalling any hostilities, Chris said, “She’ll be back.”

  “Her pride won’t let her dodge us for long.” Spencer stared toward where she’d gone. “But she won’t appreciate you seeing her upset.”

  * * *

  JACKSON HAD TO ADMIT that Spencer was probably right. Arizona could get real prickly over any perceived weakness. But damn, it went against the grain. Every instinct in his male-inspired repertoire told him to console her.

  She’d probably have a fit if he tried that, though.

  And she’d be more embarrassed. He couldn’t do that to her.

  Patience was one of his strong suits. When necessary, he could wait for hours, even days, on a stakeout. But now, he had a hell of a time waiting for Arizona to return.

  In his pocket, the keys jangled. He paced, constantly watching for her.

  By silent agreement they had all decided to give her the space she needed. She’d return when she was ready. It had only been ten minutes. But still…

  Finally she came back around the house, both dogs trailing her. She stroked Tai while talking to Sargie.

  She liked dogs. Maybe that could be his next gift.

  He wanted to take care of her for a very long time. He wanted to shower her with presents.

  He wanted her to be in his life, for the rest of his life. As Alani had pointed out, she was like a sister to him. He felt responsible for her, loyal to her. He trusted her.

  He loved her, damn it.

  Hopefully his gift would help to convince her.

  She stalled when she saw them all still lounging around the patio. “I figured you guys would go swimming or something.”

  “That’s next,” Chris told her. “But Jackson has one more surprise for you.”

  Jackson saw her bite off a groan, and it amused him. “None of that, now.” Throwing an arm around her shoulders, he brought her into the group. “Indulge me a little, will you?”

  “Well, sure, but…” She let out a long breath. “Seriously, Jackson, it’s already so much. My trunk will be full!”

  Alani, bless her beautiful heart, grinned hugely. “That’s the best part, Arizona.”

  “The best part of what?”

  “You’ll have more room. All the room you need.”

  Seeing that she didn’t understand, Jackson added, “I don’t want you to live out of your trunk. Not anymore.”

  Her gaze sought Spencer’s—why, Jackson didn’t know. Was she seeking additional support? Or was that look more about what she kept in her trunk?

  He glanced at Spencer, but that sly dog kept all expression hidden.

  Deciding that he’d check out her trunk at the first opportunity, Jackson withdrew the keys. “You know how Chris has a house here with Dare?”

  Shock filled her features as Arizona took a step back. “No.”

  It was an act of denial. She knew all about Chris’s house; in some ways, she was no different from him. Within minutes of her first trip to Dare’s, she’d taken in everything, including the property. She’d explored the boathouse, the dock, the shed, the garage…and Chris’s place.

  Eyeing the keys in his hand, she shook her head. “No, you didn’t… You wouldn’t…”

  Disbelief had her stammering.

  Too bad. Eventually she’d get used to being loved.

  At least, Jackson hoped that was true.

  He pulled Alani into his side. “We did.”

  Chris shrugged as if it were no big deal. “I have my own place for privacy, but I’m here, nearby, so I can keep up with everything Dare needs done.”

  “He’s only a shout away,” Molly said. “It works out great.”

  Arizona shook her head again, harder this time.

  “I want you to continue working for me.” Ignoring her disbelief, her stricken expression, Jackson forged on. “You’re thorough. You catch on quick to the computer programs we use. And you get it.”

  “It?” she asked.

  “The whole biz. What to look for, what to consider. You put the pieces together.”

  “You know what trafficking looks like,” Trace pointed out. “You recognize the signs.”

  “Right.” Jackson jumped on that as a way to convince her. “I need you working with me.”

  “You mean for you.” She couldn’t hide her sneer. “Like a secretary.”

  Yeah…regardless of what Chris said, he wasn’t ready to toss her into the middle of it all; she’d spent too much time there already.

  He looked to Spencer for help but got none. In fact, the poor dude looked pained. Jackson got it; Spencer might not want to admit it, but he’d been caught in Arizona’s web. Her special brand of vulnerability and bravado, the way she fought the world, just reeled a guy in.

  Of course, Spencer looked at her in a way Jackson never had. At times, it made him uncomfortable and gave him just a hint of what Trace must’ve felt when he was hot and heavy on Alani’s tail.

  Spencer wanted to do what was best for Arizona, which meant he had to fight his instincts—the gut-driven urge to protect her, even from herself.

  Jackson could tell him that it’d be easier to give in, to redirect all that energy into loving Arizona instead. But he had a feeling Spencer needed to figure that one out on his own.

  And if he didn’t…well, then, he didn’t deserve Arizona.

  “I’d say as an assistant, actually, not a secretary—which you make sound like a dirty word.”

  “I do assist,” Arizona said warily. “I’m not behind on anything, right? I went through all the files you sent my way.”

  Alani hugged up to his arm. “You’ve been wonderful. Jackson to
ld me so.”

  Jackson nodded.

  “But we’d also love to have you close.”

  Arizona shifted her feet, took one stance, then another. “Yeah, well…” Again she glanced at Spencer. “I appreciate that. The thing is—”

  Unable to take all her waffling, Jackson dropped the keys onto the table. “Those go to a lock. For a front door. That’ll go into the house we’re having built for you on our property—and don’t you give me that look.” He pointed at her. “You can’t keep running around the streets.”

  Arizona’s eyes narrowed. “No.” She looked from him to Alani. “But thank you.”

  Jackson ignored that. “I have more than enough land, damn it. Like Chris said, you’d have your own privacy—”

  “No.” She swallowed hard, breathed fast. “You’re too generous and too…” At a loss, she shook her head. “Appreciate the gesture. Really. But I can’t. Thanks anyway.”

  It wasn’t a damn gesture, but when he started to speak, Alani squeezed his arm. “Please think about it, Arizona, okay? The keys are symbolic. We haven’t broken ground yet on the new structure.”

  “We wanted you in on that,” Jackson explained. “Alani wanted you to help design the house.”

  “Oh, God.” She rubbed her forehead.

  Alani left him to approach her. “Don’t make a decision right now. Take a little time to think about it, that’s all I’m asking. Could you do that, please?”

  Jackson knew Arizona wanted to refuse, but Alani had a hand on her shoulder, her tone was soft and sincere, and Arizona wasn’t immune to her.

  Who could be? His fiancée was one special lady.

  Damn, he was lucky.

  Smiling, he came up to put an arm around each of them. “Great idea. Take a little time to get used to the idea before you decide.”

  “And until then,” Chris said, “let’s eat some cake!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  THANK GOD THEY DIDN’T make her suffer through any singing, or blowing out of candles. After helping to clear away the last of the birthday mess, Arizona finally started to relax.

  At least, on that score. She still had to find out what she could about Quin and the sting and that suspicious phone call she’d received.

  “So, Dare.” With all birthday celebrating now out of the way, Arizona sought a way to ask the necessary questions. She moved her glass of lemonade a little, seeing the ring of condensation left behind on the patio table. “Did you wrap up everything at the bar?”

  “The Green Goose?”

  How many trafficking rings was he currently busting up at bars? Dryly, she said, “Yeah, that one.”

  “Not completely.” Dare shrugged. “But everyone is safe, and there are good people working on the details.”

  Everyone wasn’t safe, or Quin would’ve had no need to call her.

  “We’re staying in contact with the head of the new task force,” Trace told her. “He’s still interrogating Terry Janes, but I doubt they’ll find out anything else.”

  Huh. Trace had probably already questioned the guy, and he wasn’t held back by legal restrictions. “You figure if you couldn’t make him talk, no one can, right?”

  Scowling a little, Trace avoided the question. “It’s being handled.”

  “Right. I’m sure it is. But if there’s nothing else to find out, why interrogate him?”

  Jackson frowned at her. “There’s always more to find out. Like who owns the place.”

  “Janes doesn’t?”

  “Nope.”

  She ran her finger through the condensation on the table. “So…who does?”

  “We’re still working on it,” Dare told her. “So far, no one we nabbed seems to know, so we’ll have to search the records.”

  Arizona considered that. “You got Janes and his henchman, Carl, and the bartender…”

  “And a couple of other thugs who drove a white van. Dare grabbed them out of the back alley.”

  Arizona looked up. That was the first she’d heard about a white van.

  “But,” Jackson said before she could start asking questions, “you don’t need to worry about any of that. Those bozos are shut down for good.”

  Unfortunately, she had reason for doubt. She turned to Dare again. “Okay, so you got the creeps. But do you remember the workers you rounded up?”

  “There were over a dozen people, hon.”

  She deflated. “So you can’t account for them all?”

  Intuition sharpened his gaze. “I can place most of them. Why?”

  Oops, time to retrench. “I was just wondering.” She brushed away a bumblebee that tried to land on her arm and summoned her most casual expression. “Was Quin in there?”

  “The Hispanic kid?” Dare thought about it and then shook his head. “I don’t recall seeing him, no.”

  “Isn’t that odd?” Forget subtlety; she needed to know. “I mean, he was there that night. He served me.”

  “He probably split the second he heard the sirens,” Jackson said. “Maybe he’s an illegal. Bastard traffickers convince them they’ll be arrested if they’re caught.”

  “Is there a reason you’re worried about him, specifically?” Trace asked.

  “No, not really.” Her thoughts churned a little more. To make her lie more convincing and throw them off the scent, she asked, “What about that goofy little artist, Joel Pitts?”

  Dare shrugged. “I don’t know the names of the people, but I can find out if it’s that important to you.”

  No, it wouldn’t matter. She knew Quin was free because he’d called her, so why put Dare to the trouble of gathering info? “That’s okay. I was just curious.”

  “Why?” Spencer asked quietly.

  She slanted him a look. “Quin and Joel were the two I talked with most. I spotted Quin right off as a victim and then, since Joel drew pictures of me…” She shrugged. “I feel like I sort of know them both.”

  “What do you mean, he drew pictures of you?” Priscilla asked. “What kind of pictures?”

  “I was going to ask the same thing,” Alani said.

  “I’ll show you. They should still be in my purse.” To give herself a moment, Arizona went inside and hunted for them. They were now badly creased and smudged a little, but she brought them back outside anyway.

  As she rolled them out on the table, she explained. “I was pretty hammered when we left there, or I’d have thought to take them out before they got messed up.”

  Everyone gathered around. “Wow.” Priss admired the drawing. “He’s really talented.”

  A different topic was to her advantage, so Arizona kept it going. “Even without me posing or anything, the drawings look like me, except better.”

  “Not true,” Dare said.

  “Hard to imagine that’s even possible,” Jackson told her. “You looking like you do and all.”

  “You really are beautiful,” Alani agreed. “There’s nothing to improve on.”

  “Yeah, well…thanks.” Uncomfortable with the compliments, Arizona gave her attention back to Trace and Dare. “I was hoping to see them both again. Just to see how they’re doing.”

  She glanced at Spencer. He was far too quiet as he scrutinized her with piercing interest.

  While trailing his fingertips up and down his wife’s arm, Trace asked, “You’re worried for them?”

  Ignoring Spencer’s watchful gaze wasn’t easy. When Trace picked up one of the drawings to study it, she tried for a shrug. “They both seemed pretty lost, that’s all. It’d make me feel better to know they’re okay.”

  “Arizona?”

  She tried not to wince at Spencer’s tone. “Hmm?”

  “Why are you
asking about Quin and Joel?”

  “I told you.” She didn’t want to lie to him—but neither could she tell him the truth. As she again rolled up the drawings, she settled on a partial truth. “Curiosity, that’s all.”

  “Uh-huh.” Spencer caught her gaze and held it. “What else?”

  As if they only then felt the tension, everyone went still, watching them, waiting.

  Arizona pressed the drawings back into her purse. She’d just gotten done being the center of attention; damned if she’d let Spencer put her back there again. “Why does there need to be any other reason?”

  “With you, there are always ulterior motives.”

  She thrust up her chin. “Bull. I didn’t have an ulterior motive when I asked you to spar with me. I just wanted to hone my skills. And still you refused.”

  His eyes darkened, maybe with irritation. “Because I don’t want you using yourself as bait.”

  “Why not? That’s the easiest way to catch a man.” Her voice dripped with sugary sweetness. “It apparently works for Marla.” And then to the group at large, she explained, “That’s his neighbor.”

  Spencer sawed his teeth together.

  Jackson pulled back. “What does his neighbor have to do with anything?”

  Arizona said, “She wants him.”

  At the same time, Spencer said, “It’s Arizona’s way of deflecting.”

  Wow. He saw right through that, huh? So he wasn’t a mental slug. She’d already known and admired that about him.

  She said to the group, “I wanted to work out with Spencer.” She gave her attention back to him. “But I guess that’s one more thing I’m supposed to do with the next guy, right?”

  Spencer went rigid, his jaw flexing, his gaze cold.

  And he withdrew. Arizona felt it, saw it, and it wasn’t pleasant.

  Uh…yeah. So maybe she’d pushed him just a little too far with that jibe. But seeing his set features, she didn’t know how to regroup.

  “Speaking of computer work…” Chris cleared his throat. “I wanted to show you a new program, Spencer. I’m thinking it’d be pretty valuable to a bounty hunter.”