Dash of Peril
Page 28

Surly, Margo gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “You’re having way too much fun, damn you.”
“I like watching you work.” Especially when she wasn’t in any real danger. Dash stretched out an arm along the back of the seat, but he didn’t quite touch her yet. He’d confused her enough for one day. “More so this time since no one is shooting at us and you aren’t bleeding.”
The angle Logan used kept the car hidden, but if anyone drove past, they’d be able to see. Margo kept watch out the back just in case their tail had the same idea about pulling over.
Thirty seconds later—which felt like an eternity to Dash—the big truck drove past.
“There he is,” Logan murmured.
“Are we going after him?” Dash wasn’t sure of the protocol for this sort of thing.
“No.” Margo answered since Logan was busy putting in a call. She sat back in frustration. “We’ll have the plates checked, see if we can find out anything.”
“Couldn’t you have someone pick him up?”
“For what?” She holstered her weapon. “We don’t know for certain that he’s done anything wrong.”
Logan finished a call. “They’ll run the plates and get back to me.” He started another call.
“Who now?” Margo asked.
Without answering her, Logan said into the phone, “Rowdy, hey. Sorry to bother you, but I’ve got a plate number and a description for you, just in case you find out anything.”
Margo rolled her eyes. “I forgot we brought Rowdy in on this.”
“That he forced his way in, you mean?” Dash grinned. Damn, but Rowdy led an exciting life. If being a bar owner wasn’t enough, he also managed to get enmeshed in more conspiracies than anyone else Dash knew.
Rowdy was more domesticated now, but deep down, he still relished life on the edge.
Logan relayed some details to Rowdy, adding, “It was a big black muscle truck all tricked out. Light bar over the front bumper, a silver toolbox in the bed. The driver wore a ball cap and sunglasses, but I could tell he has a dark mustache and goatee.” Logan nodded. “Yeah, right. If you find out anything, do not—” He listened, and his frown eased. “Good. I’m glad you understand.”
While Logan and Rowdy talked a little more, Margo seemed lost in deep thought.
Dash touched the soft curls in her hair—such a stark contrast to her iron determination. “What are you thinking?” Not about him this time, though he knew earlier she’d been daydreaming about sex, about what they would do tonight, about what he would do to her.
She’d been so flushed, so soft and aroused and trembling, he’d gotten semihard just looking at her.
Now, though, sex was far from her mind. She had that calculating, concentrated look about her that showed concern and cunning and an indomitable will to take charge.
Margo kept her attention on the street. “I’m betting he had fictitious plates, that he and his cronies are too inept to kill me, but too cunning to be easily caught. I’m thinking that this is going to take longer than it should.” Her gaze flickered to Dash. “And I’m thinking that once I get them, I’ll make damn sure they never again have the ability to hurt women.”
“Castration?” Dash asked, half teasing, but with the way she looked he just wasn’t sure.
“Life in prison.” She turned away again.
By-the-book Margo. She was as honorable as she was sexy. A nice combo. “Will you share the info with Cannon also?”
“Yes.” She stewed a moment more, then leaned forward to speak to Logan. “I think Dash was right.”
Having just finished his call with Rowdy, Logan disconnected and put the phone back in his pocket. “About?”
“Stepping out. Waiting.” She opened her seat belt. “Our perp isn’t an idiot. He’ll circle back looking for us. I want to be there, where he can see me.”
Gut clenching, Dash froze. Logan, damn him, didn’t react at all.
Margo continued. “You stay here. I doubt he’ll stop, but if he tries to grab me—”
“Or shoot you,” Dash interjected, already forgetting that he’d said himself how unlikely that would be.
Logan only spared him one dismissive look before addressing Margo again. “I’ll be on him.”
She opened her door—and Dash cracked. “Wait.”
She didn’t. She stepped out, so Dash slid across the seat and followed.
Margo rounded on him. “Back in the car, now.”
He was not one of her lackeys to be ordered around!
But damn it, at the same time, he knew her mind-set was different from many women. Tamping down on his basic nature, Dash drew one breath, then another.
As calmly as he could, he asked, “What if we underestimated him and he does something stupid?”
From the driver’s seat, Logan let out an exasperated huff. “Before he could shoot her he’d have to show a gun. He can’t shoot through the damn car door. He’d pull his weapon, and we’d see it.”
“And I would react,” Margo told him, still bristling. “And if I couldn’t shoot fast enough to defend myself—”
“Then I would,” Logan finished for her.
Standing over her, Dash looked down into her stern face. Such a beautiful face to him. “All right.”
“It isn’t up to you!”
“Yeah, I know.” Strung tight with frustration and worry, he ran a hand over his hair. “I meant I’ll stop being an annoying ass and let you get to it.”
Margo lightened up, but not much. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Obviously.”
“If she doesn’t do it now,” Logan grumbled, “we might miss our chance.”
Dash framed her face in his hands, kissed her hard and quick and turned back to the car. He didn’t watch her walk away because, damn it all, he couldn’t.
“You are being an ass,” Logan said while keeping his gaze on Margo. “You know that, right?”
“Yeah.” He slumped in his seat. “I know.” He pulled out his cell phone.
“She’s a damn fine cop. More competent than most.”
“Yeah.” Opening the phone to access the camera, he prepared himself.
Logan’s tone went acerbic. “I’d have made myself the sitting duck except that with her arm in the sling she can’t be the driver, and using a civilian could f**k us on regulations.”
So Logan wasn’t any more thrilled with the scenario than he was? That made Dash feel better. “She’ll be fine.”
“Of course she will.” Logan had his weapon in his hand, his senses on high alert. “Now be quiet and let me concentrate.”
* * *
TOBY PULLED OVER to the curb a good distance away. The sun was behind him, aiding him because it highlighted her, but would make it difficult for her to look toward him.
“Do you think I’m an idiot, sweetheart?” He watched the woman make herself available at the curb, watched her look around in casual disregard, then lean against a light pole.
Toby snorted. She didn’t blend in any more than he would have. She was too alert. He saw it, felt it.
Lifting the cell phone, he called Curtis.
“Is she home already?” Curtis asked after only one ring.
“They took a scattered route, and then pulled over. The woman is standing on the curb. A trap, I assume.”
“Meaning they saw you.”
“Guess so.” He wouldn’t apologize when he knew it took someone really good to spot him. “I think she expects me to make a grab for her. Probably has a few cop buddies waiting in the wings to close in on me if I do.”
“She’s appealing to your vanity. She expects your male ego to demand you confront her. That, or she thinks you’re an idiot.”
Curtis always admired wit. “Yeah, she’s a real clever bitch,” Toby said with dry impatience. “Want me to pop her?” He had a clear aim from a good distance away. It’d draw a lot of attention, but with Curtis’s influence, he could—
“No. We don’t need that much heat coming down on us.” For the longest time Curtis thought things over. With a smile in his voice, he said, “Here’s what I want you to do instead.”
Toby listened without interrupting. Curtis was a spoiled, entitled, twisted f**k, but sometimes he was funny, too. “Consider it done.”
* * *
THOUGHTS OF DASH divided Margo’s concentration. Men, she well knew, could be prickly when their pride took a blow. Dash, like other men, had wanted to play the superiority role. He wanted to do her job even though he had zip experience and even less authority to do so.
Anger again sent her pacing along the curb, her eyes squinted against the low-hanging sun. Where was that damned truck? Did they want her enough to risk taking her off a crowded street? She wanted them to try.
She wanted that a lot.
She also wanted Dash. Tonight. Every part of him. She wanted to feel his tall, hard frame over her, his muscles straining in pleasure, his breath hot, his thick erection sliding in, filling her up....
Something flashed in her peripheral vision and she took closer notice. But no, it was nothing. A woman pushing a stroller. Not a threat.
Would Dash be annoyed with her for ordering him into the car, for so totally discounting his concern— concern that had insulted her because he’d shown it toward a woman. Not a cop. Not a lieutenant.
Just a woman.
A woman he...cared about?
One of the things she enjoyed most about being with Dash was that he didn’t treat her differently. Right? So why start nitpicking with him now?
Rubbing her temples, she strode to a bus bench and circled it, too antsy to sit.
Yes, the fact that Dash saw her as a woman thrilled her.
But not when she was working.
Not when she needed utmost respect from all those around her. She’d fought too long and hard to gain that respect to give it up for anyone. She’d even fought her own father, for God’s sake. But with Dash, everything was wonderfully different.
Would he still want her tonight? He seemed pretty annoyed. Maybe he, like most men, would use an excuse to punish her.
He could even be put off enough to leave her tonight instead of staying over. That possibility caused an invisible fist to squeeze her heart....
Another flash of light drew her away from her personal problems. This time when she looked up she found the truck slowly rolling toward her. Being so close, she noticed things she hadn’t before. Like oversize wheels and customized, colorful rims unlike any she’d ever seen before. Those rims had to have cost plenty, so maybe he was a man of means.
Or underground  p**n  paid well.
The driver wasn’t surprised to see her, and didn’t bother trying to hide from her. No, he smiled at her, a smug, obnoxious tilt of his mouth that dared her to react.