Striking Distance

Glancing down his shoulder at her, his stride never slowing, he growled, “Call a taxi.”

“Wait!” She stayed right on his heels. “Don’t be a jerk. I just need a ride. Is that such a big deal?”

He stopped. A straining ray of light from a distant streetlamp filtered through the darkness where they stood, softly illuminating those Arctic eyes and highlighting the hard planes of his face.

She held her breath...all she needed was half a chance....

“A ride, nothing else.”

“Nothing else,” she promised.

He turned and started walking again. She followed. Two blocks later he clicked the remote on his keychain and the headlights of an SUV came on.

She climbed into the passenger seat while he slid behind the wheel. When she snapped her seat belt into place he asked, “What’s the address?”

She gave him the address for her apartment and relaxed back against the seat as he pulled out onto the street. “Oh, no!” she groaned and smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand. “My roommate called me...” She looked over at him. “In the club, you know. She needs the apartment to herself tonight. I have to hang out somewhere else.”

“A hotel, then.” This he said, as usual, with no emotion and without even sparing her a glance.

She moistened her lips and reached way down deep for her whiniest voice. “But I don’t have any money for a hotel. It took most everything I had to pay my share of the rent when I got here. Couldn’t I just crash at your place for the night? I swear I won’t be any trouble. I’ll even sleep on the couch. I don’t usually go home with strangers but I don’t know anyone else in town and—”

He slammed on the brakes. The seat belt was all that kept her from an up-close encounter with the dash.

“Get out.”

She glanced around the dark neighborhood. They’d already left the cluster of night spots behind. Rush Street and Division were safe enough, she knew from Maverick’s briefing, but it was after midnight...who knew? Of course, she had backup, but this guy didn’t know that. Mr. Coldhearted Snake apparently didn’t give a rat’s ass.

“Fine.” She muttered a couple of fitting expletives as she jerked the seat belt loose and scrambled out, then slammed the door as hard as she could.

When she walked away she gave it everything she had, swaying her hips like a hooker on a desperate mission.

She might not have his home address, but she had his license plate number. That was something.

When he didn’t immediately drive away, an uneasy feeling quivered up her spine. She resisted the urge to turn around and assess his intent. If he gunned the engine she’d hear him in time to dive to safety.

She forced herself to put one foot in front of the other and to pretend he wasn’t even there, watching, waiting, for God knows what. The memory of that bizarre tattoo made her shiver again. There was something really wrong with this guy. Her sixth sense hadn’t stopped vying for her attention since she walked up to that bar.

As if she didn’t have enough trouble already, a drunk staggered from an alley a few yards ahead. A friend joined him five seconds later. Both watched her steady progress without making a move. She braced herself for a scuffle.

Was everything determined to turn out badly tonight?

The SUV rolled slowly forward.

She sensed the movement more than heard it.

Just before she reached the plot of sidewalk where the two winos waited, the SUV stopped next to her, and the passenger-side window powered down.

“Get in.”

She folded her arms over her chest and turned a belligerent glare in his direction. “Are you sure? You know they have medication now for bipolar disorders.”

“Get in.”

Those cold eyes cut through the darkness with a warning. He wouldn’t be pushed any further.

“All right.” She opened the door and climbed back into the luxurious leather seat. “So,” she ventured when he’d eased into forward motion once more. “You’ll put me up tonight?” She resisted the urge to smile in victory. Why had she ever doubted herself?

He braked for a traffic light and swung that piercing gaze toward her. “If you’re certain that’s what you want.”

She blinked...knew a foolish moment of panic. “Of course I’m sure. Is there some reason I shouldn’t be?”

That relentless stare bored into her for several seconds more. “That depends.”

The light changed and he shifted his attention to the task of driving.

She swallowed, wet her lips and considered whether or not she had made a serious mistake. “Depends on what?” she inquired nonchalantly, uncertain as to whether he would even bother to answer.

He didn’t look at her...just kept driving. But his voice when he spoke was every bit as icy as she knew his eyes would be. “On why you picked me out in that club tonight.” He relaxed into his seat, still not so much as glancing her way. “You see, I don’t believe in coincidences. Everything happens for a reason. And—” he did look at her then...the fleeting stare chilled her to the bone “—I will know your reason.”

Chapter 9

“We lost her.”

Maverick stared at the handheld monitor, hoping like hell he’d pick up her signal again.

Nothing.

“Dammit.”

“He could have a jamming device in his vehicle,” Ramon offered from behind the wheel.

“Just keep driving,” Maverick barked. Ramon had been in this business almost as long as he had, but that didn’t give either one of them an edge at a time like this. If they couldn’t pick up a signal on the tracking device or the cell, the bastard had to have a jammer on board. It was that simple. “We gotta find that son of a bitch.”

He studied the electronic map of the vicinity where they’d last picked up the signal...where they’d last known Tasha North to be. She’d climbed into the SUV with the guy, and they’d lost her signal but had visual contact, so Maverick hadn’t worried. Then, when she’d gotten out a couple minutes later, the signal had come through loud and clear once more. He shook his head and hissed another curse from between gritted teeth. The bastard had a jammer in his vehicle, all right. He knew all the ropes and wasn’t taking any chances.

Able to maintain visual contact for a while, they’d followed him for several blocks. But, erring on the side of caution, they’d had to lag too far behind to keep up. He’d moved out of visual range...the signal hadn’t returned.

Now she was gone.

Maverick called up on the screen a ten-mile radius relative to the last visual sighting. “We’ll take this area one block at a time and hope we spot his SUV.”

“And if we don’t?” Ramon asked, his expression as disgusted and worried as Maverick’s surely was.

“Then we report in.”

He didn’t have to say the rest. If they couldn’t find her soon they’d have to let Lucas know...and start looking for her body.

Chapter 10