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"Your judgment is compromised," Jordan pointed out. "You're sleeping with her, aren't you, Nik?"
Nik's lips thinned. He wasn't answering that question. It was none of Jordan's business as far as he was concerned.
"My judgment hasn't been compromised," Nik snarled. "Maddix Nelson isn't above murder."
"And no woman is above lying," Jordan pointed out coldly. "Either way, figure out what the hell is going on. I'll see who I can get out there, but remember, Nik, they'll be sending in their own report. Make damned sure your judgment is solid. We can't risk anything less here."
His judgment was fine, it was his heart in question, Nik admitted silently.
"Let me know if anyone is headed out," Nik stated rather than debating the former. "I'll report back when I know something."
"Yeah, well, make it soon," Jordan ordered.
The line disconnected.
Nik breathed out wearily as he glanced at the keypad of the phone and hit the number to Mikayla's shop.
When he disconnected, he was almost snarling in fury.
Mikayla wasn't there, Deirdre had informed him. She had left less than an hour after he had, and Deirdre suspected Mikayla was once again investigating Eddie Foreman's murder.
How the hell was he going to keep her safe at this rate? She was risking her life as 131
cavalierly as he did, and that wasn't acceptable.
He keyed her cell-phone number in quickly.
"Where the hell are you?" he questioned the minute she answered the phone. She paused before saying, "Did I ask where you were?" Her tone was candy sweet, immediately putting his survival instincts on high alert. Male survival, that instinct that warned him he was pissing his woman off and she had the power to make him pay for it.
"Mikayla, we both know what I'm doing," he stated carefully. "I can't do that if you're not safe."
"I'm perfectly safe," she assured him. "I'm working."
"You're not at work," he ground out.
"I didn't say I was at work; I said I'm working," she pointed out, her tone still deliberately sweet.
"On what?" His jaw was clenched so tight his teeth ached. "Tell me where you are and I'll follow you back to the shop."
"I'm not ready to go back to the shop," she informed him with patient emphasis. "I have things to do, Nik. Things I've allowed you to delay for me. You want to work alone, that's fine. I can do the same."
Patience. He forced himself to patience. Growling at her wasn't going to do a damned bit of good and he knew it. Sensed it with an intimate knowledge that only a lover would have.
"You're endangering your life, Mikayla," he finally said calmly. "Is that what you really want to do? Do you really want to give the bastard shooting at you a clear shot? An opportunity to kill you the next time."
"I guess that's your choice, Nik," she said quietly. "This isn't just your job; it's my problem. I have the right to be with you and I have the right to know what's going on." And Nik simply couldn't agree with her.
"You have that right when you have the training to back the desire," he informed her, barely managing to hide the anger rising inside him now. "Don't push this, Mikayla; you know you're not going to win. You're only going to end up getting yourself killed." Once he got his hands on her, he was going to make damned certain she understood who was the boss here. He'd be damned if he'd have her running all over town with a killer focused on her.
"At least I'll know I fought," she stated, the determination in her voice frankly frightening. "That's something some people can't do." The connection closed. Nik waited, certain she hadn't hung up on him, just to learn that she had done just that.
Lowering the phone, he glanced at it with a glare. She had hung up on him. His jaw clenched as he punched in another number.
"Hi, baby," Tehya Talamosi came on the line. Jordan's assistant and all-around tormentor. "I heard Jordan cussing a few minutes ago. Are you getting a little somesome?" One of these days. Nik decided Jordan was right, Tehya and duct tape would be good together.
"Tehya, if I give you a cell-phone number, could you GPS it?" he asked carefully.
"If it has GPS on it. What happened? Did you lose your little pretty?" she asked, 132
