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Quaide nodded. “With a few tweaks, you could easily drop undercover into one of the outlaw biker gangs around here.”
“I know shit’s getting deep with criminal activities there. After I wrap this case up, I’ll be looking into it.” He gave Quaide a sideways glance. “I could use another good guy to join the team.”
Quaide huffed in amusement. “You’ve never been subtle, Lexis. And believe me…I’m considering the idea.”
Clay arched a brow. “Are you?”
“Yeah. I could use a change of scenery. The four walls of my office… Let’s just say they’re not as fulfilling to me as they once were.”
“I suspect there’s a story there, but I’m not going to ask. I’m sure you’ll tell me in time.”
Quaide scrubbed a fingertip between his dark brows. “Not fucking likely.”
Clay’s phone buzzed with an incoming text. He saw the name and straightened. “It’s Lark.”
“What did she say?”
“The meeting started and she fits right in.” He groaned. “Christ.”
Quaide chuckled. “You’re the one responsible for how she looks. Think I didn’t hear you two going at it all night?”
For some reason, Clay’s chest swelled with a sense of pride that he’d left some mark on the beautiful woman.
He was already planning his next move with Lark. He wasn’t going to be happy until he had her shaking through her third orgasm and his name was carved into her soul.
* * * * *
Lark was great at remembering details. Names, dates and places all lodged in her mind to be unearthed when she had use of them. The skill came in handy when writing—she didn’t even need to glance at her notes.
She also had the ability to watch people without them knowing it. Her powers of observation always afforded her deeper insights for writing columns for the university paper.
Sitting here in the church hall surrounded by humans in the throes of struggle, she soaked it all in and filed each tidbit away to relay to Clay and Quaide later.
With an occasional sweeping glance at the room, she assessed each person in turn. They were seated in a semicircle with the pastor in the center leading the meeting. He reminded her of one of those TV evangelists with perfect silver-gray hair. He wasn’t exactly dressed like the men of faith she’d seen either—he wore a Gucci belt and loafers.
The girl speaking about her experiences with substance abuse had broken down in terrible tears. The next guy picked up where she left off, and both of them left her flooded with empathy for their hardship. Who knew what Clay might see, but neither person stuck out to Lark as being in cahoots with a bomber.
She peeked from beneath her lashes at a kid seated diagonally from her. He was slumped in his seat, seemingly not paying attention. But that didn’t mean he was connected to a bomber. Right?
What would Clay think? He had different views of the world.
She picked up her phone and, shooting glances at the people on each side of her to make sure they weren’t watching, she surreptitiously snapped a photo of the kid. Then she quickly turned the camera to face herself to make it appear she was on a popular social media site.
The guy beside her grunted, and she offered him a nervous smile. She went back and forth between taking photos of everyone at the meeting and herself.
When the guy beside leaned in for the next photo, she giggled and took one of them together. He stuck his tongue out and flashed the devil horns sign.
The pastor cleared his throat loudly, and she and her neighbor straightened. Lark folded her hands over her phone and offered the pastor a nervous smile.
He waved a hand her direction. “You’re new here. Why don’t you introduce yourself?”
She gulped. She hadn’t exactly prepared a speech.
“Uh…” This couldn’t be much different from a job interview, right? And she’d had plenty of those before she went with Quick Bunny.
“Well, my name is Lana. I’m a Leo.”
A few chuckles broke out, and she shifted in her seat, gaining a little more confidence.
