“No. I hadn’t even gotten out of the car to get dinner yet. Was still driving around looking for a place.” Sebastian switched his attention back to Jaz. “The bad news is that I’ll be out of commission for tomorrow. I won’t be able to spot you for the Titans thing.”
Jaz immediately pressed a kiss to his temple. “It doesn’t matter. Did you see those climbers yesterday? I wasn’t going to be winning anything anyway. Plus, who cares about this round? It’s just route selection.”
“Route selection is half the battle,” said Sebastian.
“Wrong again, G.I. Joe.” Jaz forced that acting smile back onto her face. “Knowledge is half the battle. And since you’re proving so difficult to get rid of, you and I are going to be poring over maps together.”
Sebastian shook his head, though it made him wince. “You need to get out there. Is there anyone we can fly out here?”
There wasn’t. Jaz had already gone through that calculation in her head. Even if one of her climbing friends could drop everything right this moment, by the time they could catch a flight to California and drive all the way to the San Bernardino Forest, the event would have been way past started.
“What about him?” Sebastian pointed at Liam, who was on his phone again. “Wasn’t he in the air force or something?”
“The navy,” Jaz corrected automatically. “SEALs.”
Bastian grinned. He’d known and had baited her. “Right. SEALs. I hear they can handle a rope if you give them enough training and treats.”
Liam raised his head. He looked harsh and unapproachable, his chiseled face a study in male perfection. Worse still, the moment Liam put his phone away and gave his full attention to the conversation at the bedside, his presence somehow filled the room. The effect was so immediate and potent that Jaz wondered whether Liam had been playing with that phone on purpose, just to keep from imposing too much on the room’s air. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I can handle a belay.”
“Excellent.” Sebastian made a good effort at sounding enthusiastic, but Jaz could see that all the talking was getting to him. “Liam has me by twenty pounds, but we’re about the same height. Most of the gear should fit with a few minor tweaks.”
“But…” Jaz bit her lip. The thought of seven days alone with Liam filled her stomach with a fluttering sensation she didn’t care for at all. This was all too much. He was too much. But Sebastian was right about this being the only way forward. A chain of events had hung everything—her finances, her career, her future—on the Clash of the Titans. If she backed away now, she would owe Vector Ascent money that she didn’t have. That meant bankruptcy, crawling back to her parents, proving that everything her father thought about her was true.
Not to mention it would be sheer cowardice.
“All right, then.” She gave the two men her signature energetic Hollywood grin. “If the SEAL can keep up, I guess he can come along.”
Sebastian’s returning smile took more than it should have. “Go and fight like a girl, Jazminator.” He felt for something at the side of his bed.
Wordlessly, Liam stepped up and placed a small push-button device in his hand.
Sebastian gave Jaz a sheepish look. “Morphine. Do you mind if I talk to Liam for one second? I want to make sure he knows I’ll kick his ass if he screws this up for you.”
“Get better, Bastian.” Pushing herself up on tiptoes to get the right angle, she gingerly gave her friend one final hug. “I love you.”
Liam followed and joined her in the hallway only a few seconds later, on the move as always.
“Hey, thank you for—”
Liam cut her off. “Start at eleven a.m. tomorrow?”
“It is. Why?”
“Can you manage four hours of sleep?”
“Yes. Again with the why?” It was two in the morning, which would put them back at the hotel by three, and then a luxurious seven hours in the sack if she wanted.
“Because while we were chatting up Sebastian, someone tried to return a black SUV with a damaged front end to Mountain Rent-a-Car. Said he’d hit a deer.”
Jaz grabbed Liam’s arm, her heart skipping a beat. “The hit-and-run driver?”
“It looks like it. The PD has him, and if we get there at seven a.m. tomorrow, we may be able to speak with him.”
Jaz frowned. “Why do you think he’d agree to speak to us all?”
“Because of you.” Liam caught Jaz’s eyes. “The man the PD picked up, it’s your date, Devante.”
13
Jaz
At seven in the morning, just four hours before the first challenge of the Clash of the Titans was scheduled to kick off, Jaz followed Liam and Detective Dan Kilauea through the bowels of the San Bernardino County Police Department.
“Through here,” Kilauea half growled in the tone of overworked employees everywhere, skirting metal desks, uniformed personnel escorting handcuffed arrestees, and a pair of adolescent boys along the sidelines looking in turn sheepish and defiant. The place smelled vaguely of sweat, bad coffee, furniture polish, and, for some reason, grapefruits.
“Don’t know why he agreed to talk to you, but I always say that we only catch the stupid ones.” With his gruff voice, mustache, and ruler-trimmed straight black hair, Kilauea looked like he walked right out of central casting for an old detective film. “Devante Jackson is going to see the judge at eight. Will be out by noon, provided he makes bail.”
Jaz wrapped her arms around herself. “How can they let him out on bail? Isn’t a hit-and-run the very definition of a flight risk?”
The detective gave another noncommittal grunt that probably meant not my department or maybe welcome to reality. “Do you have any reason to believe Mr. Jackson targeted your friend on purpose? Any bad blood between them? Arguments?”
“No. They were friends.”
“Acquaintances,” Liam corrected, though the distinction seemed petty just now.
“When was the last time you saw Mr. Jackson?”
“Just over a week ago. Sebastian had set us up on a blind date. Mr. Jackson texted me once afterward, but I never replied.”
The detective gave Jaz a hard look that sent a chill down her back. Did he somehow suspect her in this mess? Sticking her hands in her pockets, Jaz fell back to stay in step with Liam.
The grapefruit scent increased as they edged down a narrow hallway and past a potted citrus tree peeking out of an open door in one of the offices. Another turn and Kilauea opened a door into a small room furnished with a table, two chairs, and what had to be a two-way mirror. Devante was already there, one wrist handcuffed to the table. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that looked slept in—and probably had been.
“Jaz.” His face lit up in a smile, which faded the moment Liam came into view. “Sorry, I’m not into threesomes.”
Jaz was about to tell him just how little she cared about his preference, when a soft squeeze from Liam reminded her that Devante didn’t have to talk to them. And once his attorney got involved, he wouldn’t be doing any chatting at all. If there was any clarity to be gained, this was their one chance.