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She nodded.
“And?”
She shrugged. “I bought one of those little spy-cams and stashed it on a shelf in a bookcase in his bedroom. I thought if what it captured wasn’t too vulgar, I’d give it to him for his birthday.”
Shades ran a hand down his jaw. “Well, shit.”
She frowned. “What? What are you thinking?”
He cracked half a smile. “Hadn’t realized you were into that, babe.”
She hit him in the head with her pillow. “I’m not.” Then she pulled the pillow back and covered her face with it, mortified.
His hand reached up, and he pulled it free. She looked up to find him staring at her, trying to hold back his grin. “So, as enjoyable and enlightening as this conversation has been, what was your point in telling me all this? You wanting me to up my game, babe?”
“No! The camera, Shades!”
“What about it?”
“I set it up that night. The night we went out. The night before he was murdered. It’s motion-activated. And it’s still there.”
He frowned. “So, it would have captured whoever it was that came in that morning, stabbed him and took the bag.”
She nodded. “I think so. At least, it should have.”
“Does it transmit to something?”
“No, it records onto an SD card. You pull the card out and insert it into a laptop to view the recording.”
“You think someone might have found it by now?”
She shook her head. “I doubt it. It’s small and I wedged it between two books.
Shades studied the floor, absorbing what she was telling him. “It could be the proof they need to back off.”
“We have to go get it, Shades.”
His eyes flashed to hers. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. First, you’re not going anywhere near them. Second, I’ve got shit to deal with tomorrow. I’ve got that run to make, and you’ve got that open house the day after tomorrow. We’ll figure it out when I get back, and I’ll go take care of it.”
“But, Shades—”
His brow rose. “Enough, babe. I’ll handle it. Okay?”
Skylar knew arguing with him would be pointless. He’d never give in. Not on this. “Okay. All right.”
He leaned back against the pillow, pulling her down with him. “Now, I want my woman. So shut up and kiss me.”
“I thought you were too tired?”
“I was. Now you woke me up. Got me all stirred up with that talk of cameras and sex. Now I want your body.”
She grinned up at him.
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
“So, what’s wrong with it?” Reload asked, glancing from the road to his passenger, one wrist resting on the top of the steering wheel of his pickup.
Quick slumped against the door of the pickup, chewing on a toothpick. He looked over at his Devil King brother. Thank God he’d been close enough to come to his rescue when Quick’s bike had broken down on the side of I65 just south of Birmingham.
