recon of the area, too.”
A brief chuckle answered him. “Been there, done that. Plus, I’m picking Serena up at her place at six thirty. We’re attending a recovery meeting together tonight.”
Jax let out a low whistle. “Fast work, rookie!”
She snorted. Odd how even that gruff sound was attractive coming from her.
“Not hard,” she said, “with someone so needy for human companionship and approval.”
“What’s the address of the meeting? I’d like to hang around outside and watch for either our mutual friend or a go-between who might want to contact Serena outside of her workplace or residence.”
“Good idea.” Daci rattled off the address.
“What do you drive, so I’ll know which vehicle is yours?”
“I’ve got a blue Volkswagen GTI. Blurs the line between sporty and utilitarian. Just the way I like it.” She laughed.
Jax grinned as they ended the call. He’d expected at least a Lexus, if not a Mercedes, but a VW? She’d certainly pulled off the balance between maintaining her average-income profile with the flair of something slightly off the beaten path.
Two hours later, Jax parked up the block from Bethany Church in south Springfield, where the recovery meeting was being held. He had arrived early to monitor Daci and Serena’s approach. If anyone was following them, he would spot the tail. He popped open the door on the glove compartment of his Malibu, took out his Glock 19 and checked the load.
Lying beneath the gun, his temporary marshal’s badge caught his eye. Slowly, he hefted it in one palm, testing the familiar weight. Running the pad of his thumb across the gold star and embossed eagle, memories rushed through him. Hissing in a breath, he flung the badge back into the glove compartment and slammed it shut.
He lifted his gaze to find a shiny blue GTI turning the corner and approaching the church. The vehicle drove toward him, then entered the parking lot that was already filling up with those attending the meeting. Jax scanned the area for vehicles slowing down in surveillance mode or parked cars with occupants that seemed to be watching the church like he was. Nada.
He settled back in his seat for a bit of a wait. When the meeting was over, he was going to follow them back to Serena’s apartment. Her part of town wasn’t a good area to be in after dark. Not a good place to raise a child, either, but a rough neighborhood wouldn’t be sufficient reason to deny Serena her son if she met the court-ordered criteria for custody. And at the moment, it was the best she could afford. Sometimes a person had to pick his battles.
The two hours until the meeting let out reminded Jax of how much he’d hated stakeout duty. At last, people began emerging from the church, Daci and Serena in the mix. Jax started his car, but let the VW get on up the road before he pulled out to follow. A few other vehicles from the meeting stayed with them for a while, but eventually, they all turned elsewhere.
Within twenty minutes, Daci pulled over near a corner lamppost in front of Serena’s complex. Jax stopped at the curb on the opposite side of the street and watched as Daci got out with her charge. Had she already wangled an invitation up to Serena’s apartment?
No, Serena stopped at the curb and seemed to be saying good-night. Daci lifted a hand in farewell and turned away as Serena went into her apartment building. Jax reached to put the Malibu in gear, then froze as a rust-bucket van cruised up the street and stopped in the middle of the road parallel with the VW. Jax’s hair stood on end, every instinct screaming that Daci was in danger. He lunged for the gun in his glove compartment as the heavy rat-a-tat-tat of automatic weapon fire shredded the night.
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