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"Could he be at your house?" It's exactly where he'd be after flushing out his quarry into the open. He'd set up a watch and wait for the target to scurry back to home base before taking off for the great wide open.
"No." She shook her head—firm, decisive, back in control. "I'm working at B-Squad under my name, but neither my house or car has any link to me. Lash worked up the security system. He's the only one who knows where I live."
He breathed easier. He and Loud Mouth Lash had served together in the Marines. The man knew his shit. The house just might be Fort Knox worthy. However, there was always a way to find someone—a paper trail that would lead to the front door.
"Your name's not on the water bill? The cable? With your cellphone?"
"Nope."
So, somehow the guy had gotten the jump on her connection to B-Squad. It wouldn't have been a main player, but the Devil's Dip Gym on the main floor was still active. A trainer? Janitor? Guy who'd whacked off to a fantasy Tamara one too many times in the gym's cold showers? Maybe he followed her home one night. Maybe she let something slip to a neighbor. He didn't know, but he'd find out. And then that little loose lipped motherfucker would be out own his ass.
"I'll check the house out later."
Her blue eyes went wide. "You'll check it out?"
"As long as I'm watching out for you, you're not putting a dainty little toe inside the threshold before I give it my sign of approval."
She looked about ready to blow, but only for a second or two. Then, that icy curtain came back down and she looked out her window at traffic as they inched down one of Ft. Worth's always clogged main thoroughfares. She ignored him with so much determination he considered being worried. After a few minutes she turned in her seat to face him, the flash of what must have been her beauty queen winning smile nearly blinding him to oncoming traffic.
"Do we have a destination or am I too much of a weak little female to have the privilege of knowing that?" She served up that ice in a honeyed voice that was sweeter than his grandma's tea in August.
Nope. He wan't falling into that trap. His mama had not raised a moron.
"Darlin', you are all female but not in the least little bit weak."
If she was placated by his compliment, it didn't show. "So what's the answer?"
The Majesty Movie Theater loomed up ahead on the left. The marquee advertised a show time starting in ten minutes. It wasn't perfect, but it would do.
He flipped on his turn signal. "Right here."
"We're going to the movies?"
"It's the last place Wolczyk will look." The lot was empty with a nice pair of open spots right by the door. He steered his truck around back anyway and reversed into a spot not visible from the road. "It's dark, no one interacts with anyone else and they serve food."
"And after?" she asked, a touch of weariness forming lines around her eyes
"We'll figure out what step to take next." He got out and circled around to her door so he could open it for her, making it in time to see her hop down, evading his help with ease.
The look she shot him was pure sass and triumph with more than a smidgen of fuck you mixed in for good measure. His cock twitched—another good reason for sitting in the dark for a while and watching some shit blow up on the screen. It would give his dick the much needed opportunity to return to its normal not-around-Tamara state.
ACK! I know, I’m such a hag for stopping there, but I promise Tamara and Isaac are worth the wait.
