Getting Rowdy
Page 95

Instead of going to the front entrance, Cannon went down one building more then cut through the alley and around to the back door. He was always cautious, and he didn’t want to let the driver of the car know he’d been noticed.
He tapped once, and then waited until Jones let him in through the kitchen.
Pulling off his hat, Cannon asked, “Where’s Rowdy?”
Always busy, Jones went back to his stove and the massive pot of soup he had cooking. “Last I saw him he was in his office going over some invoices.”
“Thanks.” He skirted past Jones, anxious to reach Rowdy before the Audi took off again.
Rowdy was just stepping out when Cannon reached him. “We have trouble. C’mon.”
Without asking questions, Rowdy followed.
“New car,” Cannon explained. “An Audi. Probably seventy-five thou.”
“Here?” Rowdy asked with a load of suspicion.
“Hanging around, yeah. Watching the bar.” Cannon glanced at him. “Did you scare off the silver BMW?”
“Maybe.” Rowdy’s face tightened. “I confronted the bastard.”
“So you know who that was?”
Full of bad intentions, Rowdy snarled, “I know.”
“Wish I’d been there to see that.” Cannon sensed there was more to the story, but it wasn’t in his nature to pry. “So now there’s a new car. Hell of a coincidence, ya know?”
“Or an outright taunt.”
“Could be,” Cannon agreed as they neared the front window. “If someone wanted to be sly, that is not the sedan to drive.”
Scowling in indecision, Rowdy stood back—out of view from anyone on the street. “Which way out front?”
“I walked up South Street, which brought me up behind it.” Because he knew something was going on, Cannon asked, “What do you want me to do?”
“Stay here with Avery while I check it out.”
“Sure.”
Rowdy had just turned to go toward the back when Avery came out from behind the bar. “Rowdy!”
Her tone stopped them both.
Holding the bar phone, her face pale, she said, “The police just called.”
Cannon watched Rowdy switch priorities in a heartbeat. It was one of the things he respected most about him—how quickly he adapted to changing situations. That bespoke experience and the calm detachment needed to deal with crisis situations.
Admirable traits, as far as Cannon was concerned, traits that would come in handy while working in this neighborhood.
Rowdy reached Avery in only a few long strides. “Logan or Reese?”
“Not them, no.”
“Then who?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think I got a name.”
Going hot around the collar, Rowdy asked, “What did they want?”
Brows pinched with disbelief, Avery shook her head. “I’m not sure I buy it, but they said my apartment was broken into.”
When Rowdy took the phone from her, Avery said, “They already hung up, but, Rowdy, they wanted me to meet them there as soon as possible.”
Wow. Knowing a setup when he heard it, Cannon whistled.
Like a prizefighter, Rowdy bunched up. His killing mood showed as clearly in his physical stance as it did in the black glare he sent toward the Audi waiting on the street outside.
Someone was messing with Avery, and if Rowdy had his way, they’d soon be paying the price for that error.
Cannon wasn’t a betting man, but if he was, he’d put all his money on Rowdy.
CHAPTER TWENTY
SINCE SHE’D WITNESSED Rowdy in defense mode before, Avery recognized the signs. All hell was about to break loose.
“Fuck that,” Rowdy said. “It’s a setup.”
“That’s what I was thinking, too.” Rowdy looked so furious that she hooked her hand in the waistband of his jeans, determined to keep him from leaving. “Could we call Logan or Reese to have it verified?”
Cannon stepped up. “No need. I’m on it.” He had his phone to his ear, and a second later, he spoke to someone. “Can you check on the lady’s place? See if there are any cops hanging around or if it looks like it’s been broken into? Thanks.” He disconnected the call. “I’ll know in under ten minutes.”
“In the meantime,” Rowdy said, “stay here with Avery.”
Avery grabbed for him with her other hand, too. “Where are you going?” Even Rowdy wouldn’t be impulsive enough to charge into a trap.
“Just outside.” He shared a male-inspired glance with Cannon. “I’ll be right back.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” If he insisted on defending her, then she could damn well insist on knowing the details. “I have a right to know.”
“I just need to check out something. I won’t be long.”
As he started off she kept pace with him, still holding on to his belt. “Call Reese or Logan,” she insisted again.
“Why don’t you do that for me?”
So she’d have something to do other than follow him? She shot his words back at him—sort of—saying “Screw that.”
“I’ve got this, boss,” Cannon said. “Why don’t you stay here with Avery and I’ll—”
“No.” Rowdy caught her wrists and lifted her hands away. “There’s a car out front. An Audi. Does Fisher own one?”