Trace of Fever
Page 36

Like hell! Priss didn’t want to lose whatever opportunity this might be, so she shouted, “Molly, help me. Trace drugged me to bring me here, and Dare manhandled me when I tried to escape.” And before Trace could muzzle her, if indeed that was his intent, she added, “Some other guy stole my cat!”
The woman’s mouth dropped open, then firmed shut again. With one raised hand, she halted Dare’s progress. Dare dropped his head and groaned.
Molly looked around, and then pointed off to her right. “Over there. Chris has your cat, and he’s a good guy, so you don’t need to worry about that.”
Priss looked, and sure enough, some guy sat on the grass beneath a large shade tree, not far from Trace’s truck, with Liger in his lap. Two beautiful Labradors were on their bellies, their ears perked, their tails thumping.
Like a king, Liger held court, accepting the attention from the guy and the dogs.
Dare said, “Those are my girls, Tai and Sargie. They’re gentle, so don’t worry about the cat—if you can call that monster a cat.”
“He is not a monster,” she said in defense of him, almost forgetting her situation. “Liger is very sweet.”
“Declawed?”
“Of course not.” She would never do that to Liger. “But he only scratches when necessary.”
Trace maintained his hold on Priss’s arms.
Looking much like a beach bum who had just awakened, Chris wore a ratty T-shirt. But unlike Molly, his hairy legs were bare beneath rumpled tan cargo shorts and he was barefoot.
Priss didn’t want to, but she knew she had to get control of herself. “I suppose Chris is the person who’ll be caring for Liger?”
Dare said, “Chris pretty much cares for everything around here.”
“He’s good with animals, Priss.” Trace’s thumbs rubbed up and down the backs of her arms, almost wringing a shiver from her. “You don’t have any reason for all these hysterics.”
Oh, that got her anger right back up there at the boiling point. She gave him a look that could kill. “Hysterics?”
Before she could say more, and before Trace could reply, Molly was there. “Hello. I’m Molly. And I believe I heard Trace call you Priss?”
Priss eyed her. “Yeah.”
Molly just smiled. “Why don’t you come inside with me? I’ll get you something to drink.”
“You’re Trace’s friend?”
“Yes.”
And she was expected to accept a drink? “What, do I have stupid stamped on my forehead?”
Confused, Molly shook her head. “I don’t—”
“I told you. He drugged me.”
Molly looked at Trace.
Dare said again, “Molly….”
She waved him off. “I know. It’s all hush-hush and top secret and Trace is honorable, so whatever has happened, there’s a reason for it. I get it.”
Priss glared at all of them. “Well, I don’t.”
“We’ll indulge girl-talk, that’s all,” Molly promised Dare. “I won’t pry and I won’t divulge anything.”
“Anything like what?” Priss asked.
Molly continued to smile, and that smile made her look very pretty. “Anything that they—” she indicated Dare and Trace with a nod of her head “—think is a security risk.”
Sensing Molly would be easier to crack than Trace or Dare, Priss asked, “Like?”
“Full names, which are always off-limits.”
“So his name isn’t Trace Miller?”
Molly did a verbal stumble, then said, “Of course it is.”
Of course it wasn’t, or else Trace and Dare wouldn’t have let out a collective breath at Molly’s answer, and her straight face. “Anything else?”
“Location of course, which has to be kept private, at least until they know they can trust you, which from what I can tell means only after you’ve married one of them.”
For some reason, that made Priss’s face redden. “That’s what you did?”
Molly grinned hugely. “Yes. Dare is my husband.”
Dare said again, “Molly,” this time in exasperation.
“Oh, really, Dare.” Molly flapped a hand at him. “Just what do you think she could do with that information?”
“That depends on how connected she might be, who she knows, and what she’s up to.”
While husband and wife groused at each other, Priss looked around and saw land and more land, all of it secured with towering fences, gates, and high-end security. “Wow. This place is a fortress.”
“Of course.” Molly returned her attention to Priss. “The guys also don’t want me to discuss whatever it is they’re up to, not that I even know, so however connected you might be, don’t waste your time on me. Usually I’m as in the dark as you are right now.”
“I’m not that in the dark,” Priss insisted. And truly, every minute it seemed some new aspect of Trace was revealed to her. “I know Trace is undercover with Murray.”
Dare went still, but Trace just rubbed his face.
“By the way, Murray is a real scumbag human trafficker, just so you know.”
And suddenly Dare was beside Molly, his arm around her protectively. For her part, Molly tried to hide it—and she almost succeeded. But Priss saw the flash of…something dark and grim in her eyes. A bad memory?