“The boy’s reaction?”
“He couldn’t or wouldn’t tell her what they made per hour.”
Grim, Trace said, “Because he’s not getting paid.”
“That’s Arizona’s assumption. Around a lot of stammering and nervousness, the boy pointed out the man to talk to if she wanted to work there. Arizona said he’s a tall, skinny guy, mid-forties, thinning brown hair, brown eyes, goatee, earring, some sort of colorful tribal tattoo on his left arm. From what she could find out, he’s the owner of the place.”
“Terry Janes.” Trace crossed his arms. “Did some time when he was younger for peddling drugs, been in more trouble a handful of times for robbery, breaking and entering, suspected rape. He had a charge for beating a guy half to death, but that fell through the cracks. No way is he the owner.”
God, it sounded worse than Spencer had suspected. “Later that night, Arizona kept watch on the place and only a few of the employees left. Janes, his bartender, his bouncer—just key people, I guess. He locked the door behind him. It’s a shitty part of town, so bars on the windows make sense, but in this case—”
“They’re there to keep the workers in.” After a moment of thought, Trace leaned forward, arms resting on the table. “Please tell me that Arizona hasn’t talked to him.”
That was the only good news in the whole screwed scenario. “She says not, but she told the boy she’d be back tomorrow night—and she’s pretty sure the guy overheard it all.”
“Which was probably intentional on her part?”
“I assume so.”
Trace shook his head. “So now they’ll be watching for her.”
“You met Arizona. That’s her plan.” Disgust rolled through him; he hated her plan. “She wants them to know, to make a move, so she can expose them.”
“At least she had the good sense to come to you for backup.” Trace pulled out his cell phone. “Where’s Arizona now?”
“At this precise moment? No idea.” And that was a problem, because it would take Arizona no more than a minute to get in over her head. When he couldn’t see her, he worried about what she was doing, if she was safe.
He wondered if she thought about him even half as much as he thought about her.
It’d be nice to claim that altruistic motives drove him. But that wouldn’t be the whole truth, and he knew it.
He glanced at his wristwatch. “She’s coming by my place in a few hours so we can coordinate plans for tomorrow.”
“Coordinating plans was the best you could come up with?”
Spencer shrugged. That had been the only excuse he could think of to gain himself time enough to talk to Trace—and to get a cake for her birthday.
Trace said, “Whatever you call it, get her to stay overnight with you, and keep her under wraps until she heads to the Green Goose.”
No and no again. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?” And not touch her?
“I don’t know. Find a way. Tell her you need to go over the rules with her.”
Or just go over her. Spencer shook his head. “You think that’ll take the whole night?”
“Guess that depends on how you drag it out, doesn’t it?”
Spencer didn’t miss the suggestion. But Trace had to be kidding. With a hand to the back of his neck, Spencer tried to rub away the growing tension. “The thing is, Arizona’s…skittish.”
What an understatement. Arizona was all brass and bravado, until someone showed intimate interest. Then her survival reaction of fight, flight or freeze kicked in.
So far, with him, she always chose to fight.
And every time it happened, the vise on his heart squeezed a little tighter. He had a plan to help her with that. A masochistic plan that was sure to make him nuts, but for Arizona…
“She knows you want her.”
“No.” Damn it, he’d said that too fast and sounded far too defensive.
Trace just looked at him.
“I’m too old for her.” God, just shut up, Spencer.
“Given what she’s been through and the way she lives, I’d say you’re just what she needs.”
Not a topic he’d discuss with Trace or anyone else.
As if he realized that himself, Trace didn’t wait for confirmation. “Get her to your place, and I’ll find a way to disable her car. It’s as good an excuse as any for her to stay the night. Keeping her with you will give you more control until we shut down the joint.”
The enormity of coercing Arizona to do anything was overshadowed by Spencer’s surprise. “Shut it down?” Could it really be that easy to remove Arizona from danger—this time? “Just like that?”
“Yeah, just like that.” Being enigmatic, Trace added, “We were on this anyway.”
We, meaning Trace, Dare and Jackson? He didn’t ask. He knew Trace wouldn’t tell him. “Glad to hear it.”
“Now, with Arizona ready to dive in… It could still take some time, but I’ll do my best to accelerate things.”
“I hope so, because if you know Arizona at all, you know I’m not going to be able to get her to pull back.” Hell, he’d be lucky if he could get her to stop swinging for his head. “As for her staying with me…dicking with her car might work once, but after that? She won’t like the idea of anyone protecting her.”
Trace looked down at the table. “I understand her. After what she’s been through, she hurts, physically and emotionally, thinking about anyone caught in that situation.”
“She knows how it is,” Spencer agreed softly. “She understands that unique misery only too well.” And for Arizona, the only escape from her memories would be to validate her current well-being by helping others. Otherwise, she’d feel like she had no justice at all.
They shared a somber moment, then Trace flipped open his phone and pressed a button. “Let me make this call, and then I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.”
CHAPTER THREE
BRIGHT SUNSHINE SHONE in Arizona’s eyes as she waited in her car for Spencer to return. Even adjusting the visor didn’t help. Heat built—inside the car, inside her mind.
Growing bored, then quickly drowsy, she leaned her head back, closed her eyes against the glare…and drifted away to the day of that awful confrontation.
Spencer’s voice sounded with conviction…and with caring. “Whatever Chandra did to you, she’ll pay.”
