I must admit it was a little bit of a surprise when I realized Cara knows someone I know. What do they call it? Six degrees of separation? But I should’ve put two and two together when I found out who her stepfather was—Adam “Rake” Ward, an infamous member of the Wind Dragons MC. My ex-partner’s wife, Clover, is a “princess” of the Wind Dragons, something I gave Felix shit about when I first met him.
I saw a photo of Cara on Clover’s social media and called Felix, leaving a message. I let my phone fall onto the leather of the passenger seat when I see her walking to her car. She’s dressed with all class in a black blouse, tailored pants and heels. Her hair is down and reaches her waist. It’s the first thing I notice about her. It’s beautiful.
She drops one of the folders she’s holding in her hands, mutters a curse, and picks it up, juggling her bag, phone and keys. My lips twitch. She’s amusing to watch, that’s for sure. “Rapstar” by Polo G plays in my car, and I mouth the words as I wait for her to get into her Mercedes Benz and drive off.
And then I follow her.
We drive for a couple of minutes and then she stops at a park, but doesn’t get out of her car. She sits there and does something on her phone for a few minutes, and then gets back on the road.
Okay, that was weird. She must have just stopped to send a text or something, but she could have done that before she left the school.
Women are unusual creatures.
I stay a few cars behind her and follow her through the city. When we get to the house she owns with her boyfriend, I can tell it has high security by the electric gate out the front. No one is coming to this woman’s house who isn’t invited, that’s for sure.
I park across the road in front of one of her neighbors’ houses, hoping they aren’t home, but if they are I’ll just pretend I’m lost and trying to figure out directions. I like to think I’m always one step ahead, but when Cara crosses the road and comes over to my car, I have to admit that this has never happened to me before.
She knocks on my window. I roll it down, intrigued.
It’s then I notice her reaching into her bag, holding something in there. “Why are you following me?” she asks, anger filling her eyes.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” I say to her, flashing her a charming smile. “I’m lost and looking for directions on how to get back to my hotel.”
“I saw you at the school and then I noticed you following me to the park, and now here,” she replies, pursing her lips at my answer. “I’m not stupid.”
Clearly.
I’ve never felt so called out in all of my life. Maybe I need to rethink being a PI ’cause stealthy doesn’t seem to describe me.
“Is that a gun in your bag?” I ask calmly. I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman threaten me with a gun in her handbag before, and I don’t know how to feel about it.
“Who are you with?” she demands, eyes narrowing. “I’m sure you know who my dad is, and he’s on his way right now, so if you don’t tell me the truth, he will torture it out of you himself.”
Jesus.
These biker chicks aren’t messing around.
And she’s a teacher?
“If you are teaching the youth of today, I’d say we’re all fucked, wouldn’t you?” I can’t help myself from saying.
“So I was right, you were at the school!”
Oh, fuck. She played me.
“I was at the school—one of my kids goes there.” I’m just talking shit at this point, because it’s my only shot at not blowing my cover. Funny she brought her dad into this and not her partner, who as far as I know is also a biker.
“You said you were staying at a hotel, which means you don’t live here,” she points out, shaking her head. “Is anything that comes out of your mouth the truth?”
I shrug. “Sometimes.” When I see her hand twitch in her bag, I realize I probably should stop joking around. “Okay, fine. I was following you. I’m looking for someone, and I think you are her. Cara Ward?”
“Who the fuck is asking?”
Wow. She’s angry.
“My name is Seth Decker, and I’m a private investigator,” I explain. “I have my card right here which I can show you as proof. I’m no threat to you, I can promise you that.”
“You’ll have to forgive me for not blindly trusting you with that one,” she murmurs, taking her hand out of the bag when her neighbor comes out.
“Cara? Are you okay?” an elderly lady calls out.
“Yes, Mrs. Treble, was just checking who was at your house. But it’s just a young gentleman looking for directions.”
I realize now why she came to confront me. She knew her elderly neighbor was here, most likely alone, and must have wanted to make sure nothing would happen to her.
She’s a brave woman, and my respect immediately grows for her.
“I have an old map if he needs it,” Mrs. Treble offers kindly.
“It’s okay, he sorted it and he’s about to be on his way,” Cara calls back out to her.
The cute old lady waves and heads back inside. Cara ducks her head closer. “Could you please get the fuck out of here? And don’t come creeping around here again.”
“You aren’t curious?” I ask, surprised.
“Of course I am, but I’m also not an idiot, so I’m not going to get into this right now while I’m alone.”
“We could meet somewhere public and have a chat. You choose the place and time.”
She studies me, eyes flashing. “Okay, but I’m bringing someone with me.”
I shrug. “Doesn’t bother me. Just make sure it’s someone you don’t mind knowing your personal business.”
Her brow furrows, and I catch a glimpse of worry in her eyes.
I don’t know why, but I quickly make sure she knows she has nothing to worry about. “It’s nothing bad, so don’t stress about it.”
“Give me that card you mentioned,” she demands, holding out her gun-free hand, her hair blowing behind her with the wind.
I pull one of my newly printed cards out of my glove box and hand it to her. Our fingers accidentally touch as she takes it from me and reads the card. I ignore the sparks that I felt with just a simple touch.
“Seth.”
“Call me Decker.”
“Decker,” she corrects, studying me. “I’ll meet you tomorrow. I’ll message you when and where.”