A Perfect Storm
Page 84

Another long pause and more shuffling. “The best that I can do is a pay phone. Will that work?”
“Sure.” She snatched a pen and paper from her purse. “Where is the phone?”
“It is in the south side, by the gravel pit. Away from the bar.” He read the phone number to her.
Not a great neighborhood, but she was familiar with it, so that was a plus. Was he hiding out there? Or setting up an ambush?
She could scope out the area, find the best way in and out of the locale, all the side streets and dead ends. And using the program Jackson had given her, it’d be easy enough to check up on Quin’s info.
She pressed him, asking more questions. “Is it by a business? Someplace that’ll make it easier for me to find it?”
“There is a pawn shop. Harry’s Hocks.” He drew an audible breath. “You cannot miss it.”
“When?”
“Today,” he suggested in a rush. “Right now, even.”
“Sorry, no can do.” She wanted to help him, but she wasn’t a fool. “I already have other plans.”
He fell silent for such a long time that she thought he might have hung up. Then he asked, “Tomorrow, then?”
“Sure, I can probably do that.” Somehow she’d figure it out. “What time?”
“Noon.”
Because he hadn’t taken a single moment to think about it, Arizona knew he’d already had that time specified to him.
But by who?
Knowing he was pressured made up her mind more than anything else could have. Guessing how Spencer and Jackson, even Dare and Trace, were likely to react, Arizona closed her eyes. “I’ll be there. And, Quin?” Even though he wouldn’t understand, she said, “Don’t worry too much, okay?”
She waited, but he didn’t answer. The phone died with a soft but deafening click.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“YOU DID WELL.”
Relief made him shaky. Slowly, Quin sank down onto the park bench. If only she could have made it tonight…waiting was hell. Worse than hell.
Tomorrow seemed a very, very long time away.
“Quin, Quin. Don’t look so worried. This is all working out beautifully. Better than I had hoped, even.”
Quin nodded. Actually, it had been easier than he had expected, too. Candy was either very foolish or foolishly brave. He didn’t know which.
“She’s perfect and you know it. Perfect! You saw her.”
Yes, he had seen her. Very different from the others. Somehow…stronger. Almost defiant.
But she would not be strong enough or defiant enough for what would happen.
Impatience cramped his muscles. He put his head back and closed his eyes. Tomorrow.
He would wait, and tomorrow would come.
And then it would all be over.
* * *
SPENCER PEELED Marla’s hand away from his chest. Again. “Did you try calling someone?” Someone else. Someone other than him.
“Who?” She appealed to him with big eyes and a lost expression. “The storms caused so much of a mess all over, everyone is busy.”
Cocking a brow, Spencer stepped around her and out to the porch. Humid air washed over his bare chest. Dark clouds continued to roll across the sky.
Well, hell. Trees were down, branches and debris everywhere. And sure enough, a massive limb lay across Marla’s driveway and the path to her porch.
He ran a hand over his head. He’d heard the rainfall in the middle of the night, but he’d been so enthralled watching Arizona sleep, so caught up in the pleasure of having her close, in his bed, that he hadn’t realized…
As if she’d read his mind, Marla said, “I guess you were too busy to notice?”
Ignoring the innuendo, he turned back to her. “Actually, yeah. Late night and all.” He stepped out of reach when she leaned toward him. “It was barely raining when I got to bed.”
Jealousy sharpened her tone. “Not alone?”
“Not your business,” he corrected as gently as he could. But hell, he’d slept with her, more than once, so he felt like a complete bastard for being so brusque with her now. “Marla, listen—”
She went all tearful in a heartbeat. “I’m sorry, Spencer.” Bordering on desperate, she leaned closer to him. “I don’t know what I did to turn you away.”
God, he hated these types of confrontations. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I thought we were getting along great. I thought things were good between us.”
“It was never like that.” His own frustration ripened. “I made that clear up front.”
From the doorway, Arizona said, “Yeah, well, apparently not clear enough.”
Both he and Marla swiveled around to see Arizona lounging in the door frame, dressed in her shirt and shorts, tangled hair around her face, her gaze direct, challenging and a little…sympathetic.
For Marla.
It surprised Spencer, seeing that level of compassion; such a contrast to her balls-to-the-wall, take-no-prisoners attitude about most issues.
It also pleased him.
Arizona had such capacity for caring, and that had probably made her past abuse that much worse.
Right now, though, her presence would only complicate the awkward situation even more. “Back inside, Arizona.”
“Screw you, too,” she replied with no animus at all and stepped farther out to the porch. She sent him a sardonic smile. “You don’t give me orders.”