She didn’t back down. Instead, anger poured from her as Tracy snarled, “Yes, it’s a family thing. Our father raised us to take no shit. To stand up for ourselves. He ran the city, and he told us that you never, ever tolerate disrespect.”
He’d known a few assholes like that in his time. “And did he also teach you that you were better than everyone else?”
“Damn right, we were.”
Yep, Saint had definitely met assholes like that one. “Let me guess. Your brother grew up to be just like him? That is, until your parents died.”
She sucked in a shuddering breath. “Tragic accident. One tragedy after another…It won’t ever stop. It won’t stop because Alice is getting away with his murder and you were supposed to help but you aren’t. You’re just sniffing after her and you want—"
Enough. “Number four.”
“What?”
Was he gonna have to draw the woman a picture? “You said she’d be moving on to the next victim. That it was only a matter of time until she picked some other dumb bastard and got him in her web.” He looked around, didn’t see anyone close. He’d spell shit out for Tracy so she would back the hell off and stay away from Alice. “I need to get close to Alice. If I’m going to find out the truth, screw it, why not put myself in the line of fire?”
“You…you aren’t serious.”
Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Right now, all he wanted to do was get this woman far, far from Alice. When she’d sprayed that paint at Alice—
Fuck me, what if that had been a gun? He’d been so busy checking into Alice’s life that he hadn’t investigated his own client well enough. That situation would be changing, ASAP. Because Alice was his—his case—and no one was going to threaten her. “You’re going to stay away from her.”
“You’re putting yourself up as her next target?” Now Tracy was all breathless. “That’s brilliant!”
No, it wasn’t. And had he just caught the scent of a cigarette? Saint stiffened.
But as if a switch had been flipped, Tracy now seemed almost giddy. She edged closer to him. “She’ll tell you everything, and you’ll stay on your guard because you know what she is. She won’t be able to catch you unaware, not like she did Donovan. You can stop her. We can finally stop her!” She threw her arms around him. Hugged him tightly. “Thank you!”
Hell, no. He grabbed her hands, pried them off him, and pushed her back. “You can’t be anywhere near Alice. Get out of town. Stay away from her. I’ll take care of her from here on out.”
A frantic nod. “Absolutely. I understand. I’ve got it now.”
No, you don’t.
But she whirled away. Rushed down the street and toward a long, black limo that waited. She came to the scene in a limo? Are you freaking kidding me?
She hopped in the back. The limo’s headlights turned on and shot right toward Saint. And when those headlights turned on, he was able to see the figure who’d been lurking about ten feet away, in the shelter of an arched doorway.
A figure he recognized.
The bouncer. The ex-con. Fuck.
The guy stared straight at Saint. He slowly lifted the cigarette in his hand. Took a puff. Red flared from the end of his cigarette.
I am so screwed. Saint reached into his pocket. Hauled out some cash. “How much is it going to take?” Saint asked as he closed in on the man.
The bouncer dropped the cigarette. Crushed it beneath his feet. “More than you’ve got.”
“Don’t be too sure of that.”
***
She kept spare clothes at the club. Alice did her best to wash the paint off her arms, then she dressed quickly in a pair of black pants and a black top—the same clothing she ordered for her staff. There was a reason for the black, and it wasn’t just some esthetic. It was an old magic secret. Black curtains lined all the walls of her place, and if necessary, her staff members could easily blend with those curtains in the dark. They could slip close. Pick up conversations. Secrets. All you had to do was slide on a black cap and you would practically vanish in the right lighting…
“Let me take you home,” Logan said as she met him at the bar. His voice was pitched low, just for her. “Not like you can drive your car.”
No, at the moment, she couldn’t. “I’ll get a ride. You keep an eye on things here.”
His lips tightened, but he didn’t argue. Logan knew she needed him on site. Alice inclined her head, then slid toward the curtains on the right so she could—
“Uh, Alice?” Hesitant.
It was her main bouncer, Marcel. She managed to offer him a quick smile. “I’m sorry, but I’m in a bit of a rush—”
“He’s using you.”
“Excuse me?” The voices around her were loud, so it was a bit hard to hear him. She moved closer.
“That guy who’s been coming around. Last night. Then tonight. You gave him permission to come right in, but you shouldn’t have.” Marcel’s big hands twisted in front of him. “He’s using you. Heard him say it myself.”
Marcel had her complete attention.
“He was talking to that woman in the limo.”
A limo? Really? Tracy had taken a limo to the scene of her crime? So typical. Didn’t she understand that you should try not to be seen when breaking the law? Some things should be obvious. Amateur. “What did he say to her?”
“That he was…was gonna get close. Learn all your secrets.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Said he was putting himself up as your next target.”
Her target? Fabulous. So he’s decided I’m guilty. “I would certainly hate to disappoint Saint.”
“You can’t trust him.”
Someone was going to get a bonus. “Don’t worry, Marcel. I don’t.” Marcel Taylor. He’d served two years for assault because he’d nearly beaten a man to death. That man had sexually assaulted Marcel’s sister. Left her shell-shocked and suicidal. Marcel had found her after she’d slashed her wrist. He’d been able to save her, barely, and then he’d gone after her attacker.
When he’d gotten out of prison, he’d turned up on her club’s doorstep, looking for a job. Maybe because of her reputation, he’d thought she wouldn’t be too choosy about who she hired. He was wrong, of course. She was extremely choosy. In all facets of her life. Marcel just happened to fit all her necessary qualifications, so she’d hired him on the spot.
And he certainly kept proving himself to be just the kind of person she needed. Admiringly, she noted, “I swear, you’ve got management written all over you.”
“You…don’t seem worried.”
What good would worry do? Worrying had never once solved a problem. But action on the other hand? Action eliminated problems. “I appreciate you coming to me. If you happen to hear anything else useful, please do let me know.”
His intense stare held hers. “I don’t care what they say about you. You were good to me when no one else was, and I won’t ever forget that.”
Ah, but Marcel was wrong. She wasn’t particularly good. She just knew how to look after her own self interests. She didn’t let people get close without knowing exactly who they were, deep down. Past the veneer that could fool so many. Once upon a time, Alice hadn’t known to look so deeply. She’d believed the lies and easy promises.