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One clammy hand. She glanced down at his touch, all too aware of exactly how noxious it was compared to all the times she'd fantasized about it.
"I'm not in a place to—"
"Can you at least tell me what's so much more important than spending some time with me?"
She paused, her eyebrows furrowed. "Look, Zac, you're nice, but I need some space." She measured each word, watching his expression as he listened.
Something wasn't right here. She didn't know what it was, but something about him, his touch, his desperation; it was all ever so slightly off.
Why would a guy like Zac be so desperate to see her tonight? And why was he so clearly lying about his conversation with Derrick?
After all, it had taken her nearly four months to get Derrick to admit anything about himself when they'd first started working together. There was simply no way that Zac had managed to crack the other man's silence in a matter of hours.
No, something wasn't right here. And maybe it was high time she started trusting her gut and figuring out what that problem was.
Zac lifted his grip from her wrist. "Sorry, I must have gotten carried away. I just didn't know what other chance I had and—"
"It's fine. I'm, um, going to get back to work, though." And with that, she shook him off and started pouring over every inch of unfiled paperwork on her desk.
Or, at least, that had been her plan. When she got there, she discovered that, along with the room of records, her desk had been ransacked, too. The stacks of paper Derrick had left for her were gone, and in their place was a big pile of nothing.
She blinked, and then sank into her desk chair, trying her best to make sense of everything that had happened in the last 72 hours. With Derrick. With the case. With Zac.
And when she got to the root of it, she knew there could be only one solution—everything was connected. She just had to figure out how.
So she waited, biding her time as the clock ticked by the minutes and hours to the end of their day. Carefully, she watched Zac as he moved about the office, talking to one detective or the next and making it look like he was hot on the case.
After all, maybe he was.
But there was only one way to know for sure.
When it was time to go home, she slipped out the door early and waited in her car until she saw Zac pull out of the parking lot. Waiting a decent amount of time, she pulled out after him, tailing him to the best of her ability.
It was a risk, she knew. Since she'd gone to the academy, and he'd transferred his training from the military, there was no telling what his skills might be in stealth operations. But one thing she did know? She couldn't afford to care right now.
So, when his car turned into the parking lot of the Slippery Beaver, she followed him with a heavy, suspicious heart.
Chapter 11
Derrick was right.
Jade blinked, unable to tear her gaze from the stripper gyrating in front of a very interested Zac. Beside him, one of the guys she recognized from the case board nudged his arm and laughed about something.
I have to get out of here.
The thought struck her sudden and sharp like a knife between the ribs. S
he'd already pressed her luck this far. If Zac hadn't noticed her by now, it was only a matter of time until one of the guys turned around and remembered her from the other night.
Or worse, until Zac himself happened to glance over to the bar and saw her for himself.
She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder, sliding from the stool just as quickly as she could, but one of the girls was already striding toward her with long, quick steps. "Don't go so soon, sweetheart. Don't you want a dance?"
"Um, no thank you." Jade mumbled, and the woman, a breasty, barely-clad woman with long, dark hair, offered her another coy smile.
"No need to be shy, sweetie," she said in her most velvety voice, and then it happened.
As the dancer grazed Jade's arm with one slender palm, Zac shifted in his seat and caught sight of them. No doubt hoping for some girl-on-girl action, he turned toward them and Jade watched as the recognition triggered behind his eyes.
