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When he began walking toward the exit, her heart leaped in her chest again. As it somersaulted over and over, she swiped her fear away and trailed the man outside.
He crossed the parking lot to a white car with a luxury emblem.
As he slid behind the wheel, she got into position to watch him drive out of the lot.
Her phone! Covertly, she held her phone in a way that he wouldn’t see where it was aimed from this distance. She snapped a photo of his license plate just as he drove away from the nursing home.
With shaking hands, she lifted her phone and stared at the photo. Expanding it, she was able to pick out every letter and number of the license plate, as well as a sticker in the back window with the name of the church she recognized him from.
A tiny gasp escaped her, and she stabbed a button for another contact. When Jennings’s voice filled her ear, she issued a cry of relief.
“Are you okay?” His voice rumbled with all that yummy alpha goodness of the protector she knew him to be. Her stomach pooled with lust.
Remembering why she called him in the first place, she blurted, “I have a plate!”
Background noises of chatter and things banging around alerted her that he was not alone and probably unable to take this call.
“You’re at the club.”
“Yes.” The clipped syllable made her think of how his jaw clenched.
“You can’t speak freely.”
“Not right this second. I’ll come get you. Give me—”
“No,” she broke in. “I’ll call someone else. Clay!” The solution seemed like the right course of action. Lark had programmed all their numbers into Wren’s phone while she insisted that Wren apply lipstick and mascara in the back of the SUV.
“Wait—”
Something smashed in the background, and wild laughter exploded.
She quickly ended the call and dialed Clay. It went to voicemail, but what was she going to say in a message? She could call the cops, give them the plate and… What? Tell them that she had been with a drug dealer in the back of a church? Then a guy from the FBI task force came in and killed the drug dealer who took her as compensation because her brother witnessed a murder and crossed him?
The story was too big for her to even begin to retell.
The back of the nursing home didn’t have a pretty garden to enjoy while she struggled with such a heavy dilemma. A couple dumpsters and some HVAC units were lined up along a wall that looked as drab and dreary as it was inside some days.
When the wind blew a lock of hair into her eye, she remembered she actually needed to get back to work. She’d just have to wait until she was alone with Jennings to share the photo of the license plate with him.
She turned to the door but stopped short when her phone buzzed with a call.
She jerked it to her ear. “Yes?”
“Wren? It’s Lark. Is everything okay? I saw you called Clay.”
“Thank goodness! I got something. A picture.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “Of what?”
Afraid some landscaper might be lurking around outside to overhear, she stole a peek at her surroundings before telling Lark about hearing the voice from the church and how she’d followed him outside and snapped a picture of his license plate.
“Send it to me.” Lark’s take-charge tone filled her with relief. Having backup was good—she’d been running this ship of life as the captainandcrew for far too long. She was tired…and confused by everything happening right now.
As Lark instructed, she shot the photo off to Clay’s phone.
“Good—now delete everything. Your call history, the photo and that text.”
“I’m doing it now.” She quickly performed the tasks. “I have to go.”
