Trace of Fever
Page 106
“Good.”
Trace gave her a look, and then shook his head. “Dare killed all of the bastards, freed the women and came home not only with Alani, but with an additional surprise.”
“What do you mean?”
A genuine smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “That’s where he met Molly.”
Priss’s hand fell away and her mouth dropped open. “You mean…?”
“He found her in Tijuana when he went in after my sister. Molly had been taken, too, and he brought them both back across the border.”
It made sense, now that she knew. She remembered how the men had shielded Molly, their concern, when Priss had mentioned Murray to her. “I thought there was something about Molly….”
“She’s a strong woman.”
“And your sister?” She touched him again, his biceps, then his shoulder, and she wanted to go on touching him, everywhere. “She’s strong, too?”
“God, I hope so. She seems to be dealing with it okay.”
Priss didn’t push, and then Trace pulled out his cell. “That reminds me, I need to call Jackson now that we’re clear. I’ll be just a second, okay?”
Nodding, Priss retreated back to her own side of the car. She let out a breath and stretched out her legs. A yawn took her by surprise. “Take however long you need. I don’t mind.”
TRACE MARVELED AT THE odd sort of serenity that settled over Priss. She held up better than any woman should have, but then, Priss was unlike any other woman he’d met.
Jackson answered on the second ring. “What’s up?”
“Just checking in.” Trace watched the road, but he also stole glances at Priss. Her relaxed posture and even breathing belied any stress at all. Amazing. “The authorities handled things?”
“Like pros. They might not have a proper task force, but they know what they’re doing. All’s well.”
Trace had expected no less, but he wanted to hear Jackson’s take on things. “How so?”
“Several female officers were on the scene. They brought an unmarked van instead of a paddy wagon, food, blankets, drinks… It was the best anyone could hope for.”
It relieved Trace to know the department had shown some sensitivity. “And the offices?”
“They closed in right on cue. Rounded up everyone.” In a hasty afterthought, Jackson asked, “Did you know Murray had Helene tied up, gagged and doped to the gills with one of her own psychotropic concoctions? I’m told she was totally out of it.”
He’d known that Murray planned to kill Helene, but not the details. “She’ll be okay?”
“If a life behind bars is your definition of okay.” Jackson made a sound of impatience. “So. If that’s all you wanted—”
Trace frowned. “Is there a problem?”
“Nope. No problem.”
That curt answer did nothing to reassure Trace. “Then why are you rushing me?”
“Did you want something else?”
“No, damn it.” Priss looked at him with raised brows, so Trace moderated his tone. “But unless you have somewhere to be—”
Jackson let out a disgusted breath, then admitted, “I’ve got your sister on the line.”
Of all the… “Alani?”
“You have another sister I don’t know about?”
Next time he saw Jackson, he just might have to clout him. “Why are you talking to Alani?”
“Remember, I told you that I wanted to hire her to redo my place.”
He remembered and he hadn’t liked it then, either. “You said it wasn’t happening.”
“I know, but I felt bad at how we left things.”
“Things?”
“Yeah, things.” Annoyance crept into Jackson’s tone. “And for the record, Trace, this isn’t any of your damn business.”
Trace snarled, started to issue Jackson a very real warning, but at the last second he glanced at Priss, and changed his mind. More moderate now, he asked, “Are you making moves on my sister?”
“Possibly.”
God help him. “And she’s allowing it?”
“She’s not running from me, if that’s what you mean.” A little more frustrated, Jackson added, “I can’t believe you’re chewing my ass after you let her get involved with that idiot financier guy.”
He hadn’t liked that much, either. “Decorating is her job, Jackson.”
“Yeah, but you can believe he made moves on her.” And then, with an edge of anger, he added, “Luckily for him, Alani turned him down flat.”
Trace couldn’t believe Jackson’s nerve. “Just how do you know all this?”
A long hesitation, and then with belligerence: “I’ve been keeping tabs, all right?”
Unbelievable. “Does Alani know you’re spying on her?”
“No, and don’t be so dramatic.”
“I am not dramatic.” Trace heard Priss snicker and shot her a look, but she pretended to whistle.
“Look, I’m keeping an eye on her for her own good. We both know she was skittish for a while there, but still determined to be on her own.”
It sounded to Trace like Jackson had an awful lot of interest in his baby sister. “You’re trying to make yourself sound noble,” Trace accused. “Just admit that you want her.”
Trace gave her a look, and then shook his head. “Dare killed all of the bastards, freed the women and came home not only with Alani, but with an additional surprise.”
“What do you mean?”
A genuine smile tipped the corners of his mouth. “That’s where he met Molly.”
Priss’s hand fell away and her mouth dropped open. “You mean…?”
“He found her in Tijuana when he went in after my sister. Molly had been taken, too, and he brought them both back across the border.”
It made sense, now that she knew. She remembered how the men had shielded Molly, their concern, when Priss had mentioned Murray to her. “I thought there was something about Molly….”
“She’s a strong woman.”
“And your sister?” She touched him again, his biceps, then his shoulder, and she wanted to go on touching him, everywhere. “She’s strong, too?”
“God, I hope so. She seems to be dealing with it okay.”
Priss didn’t push, and then Trace pulled out his cell. “That reminds me, I need to call Jackson now that we’re clear. I’ll be just a second, okay?”
Nodding, Priss retreated back to her own side of the car. She let out a breath and stretched out her legs. A yawn took her by surprise. “Take however long you need. I don’t mind.”
TRACE MARVELED AT THE odd sort of serenity that settled over Priss. She held up better than any woman should have, but then, Priss was unlike any other woman he’d met.
Jackson answered on the second ring. “What’s up?”
“Just checking in.” Trace watched the road, but he also stole glances at Priss. Her relaxed posture and even breathing belied any stress at all. Amazing. “The authorities handled things?”
“Like pros. They might not have a proper task force, but they know what they’re doing. All’s well.”
Trace had expected no less, but he wanted to hear Jackson’s take on things. “How so?”
“Several female officers were on the scene. They brought an unmarked van instead of a paddy wagon, food, blankets, drinks… It was the best anyone could hope for.”
It relieved Trace to know the department had shown some sensitivity. “And the offices?”
“They closed in right on cue. Rounded up everyone.” In a hasty afterthought, Jackson asked, “Did you know Murray had Helene tied up, gagged and doped to the gills with one of her own psychotropic concoctions? I’m told she was totally out of it.”
He’d known that Murray planned to kill Helene, but not the details. “She’ll be okay?”
“If a life behind bars is your definition of okay.” Jackson made a sound of impatience. “So. If that’s all you wanted—”
Trace frowned. “Is there a problem?”
“Nope. No problem.”
That curt answer did nothing to reassure Trace. “Then why are you rushing me?”
“Did you want something else?”
“No, damn it.” Priss looked at him with raised brows, so Trace moderated his tone. “But unless you have somewhere to be—”
Jackson let out a disgusted breath, then admitted, “I’ve got your sister on the line.”
Of all the… “Alani?”
“You have another sister I don’t know about?”
Next time he saw Jackson, he just might have to clout him. “Why are you talking to Alani?”
“Remember, I told you that I wanted to hire her to redo my place.”
He remembered and he hadn’t liked it then, either. “You said it wasn’t happening.”
“I know, but I felt bad at how we left things.”
“Things?”
“Yeah, things.” Annoyance crept into Jackson’s tone. “And for the record, Trace, this isn’t any of your damn business.”
Trace snarled, started to issue Jackson a very real warning, but at the last second he glanced at Priss, and changed his mind. More moderate now, he asked, “Are you making moves on my sister?”
“Possibly.”
God help him. “And she’s allowing it?”
“She’s not running from me, if that’s what you mean.” A little more frustrated, Jackson added, “I can’t believe you’re chewing my ass after you let her get involved with that idiot financier guy.”
He hadn’t liked that much, either. “Decorating is her job, Jackson.”
“Yeah, but you can believe he made moves on her.” And then, with an edge of anger, he added, “Luckily for him, Alani turned him down flat.”
Trace couldn’t believe Jackson’s nerve. “Just how do you know all this?”
A long hesitation, and then with belligerence: “I’ve been keeping tabs, all right?”
Unbelievable. “Does Alani know you’re spying on her?”
“No, and don’t be so dramatic.”
“I am not dramatic.” Trace heard Priss snicker and shot her a look, but she pretended to whistle.
“Look, I’m keeping an eye on her for her own good. We both know she was skittish for a while there, but still determined to be on her own.”
It sounded to Trace like Jackson had an awful lot of interest in his baby sister. “You’re trying to make yourself sound noble,” Trace accused. “Just admit that you want her.”
