The parking lot had only a few trucks with empty boat trailers. Another truck pulled into the graveled lot, parked closer to the aquarium. A man wearing a tan ball cap, faded khaki shorts and a white T-shirt climbed out and fetched a fishing pole from the back. The pole looked expensive, even from a distance.
Jace rejoined her, studying the newcomer with intensity. He fiddled with his sunglasses.
“Something about that guy,” he mused. “Did he just get here?”
Kara nodded.
As the fisherman walked down the dock, Kara’s unease grew. Something seemed off. On the surface, it was a serene place to stop and rest, with the clear blue sky overhead, the brilliant sun, the water gently lapping at the pilings. Yet she felt anxious.
Making an impatient sound, Jace shook his head. “We can’t wait much longer. This is odd. Brandy seemed reliable. Let me call her... Damn, signal’s weak in this spot.”
Kara watched him as he headed into the sun, pacing back and forth.
Returning to her, he pocketed his cell phone. “Brandy got delayed. She apologized for not meeting us.”
Kara’s stomach rumbled. “I guess I should have eaten back at Mom’s but I was too upset.”
He reached over, ran a thumb across her cheek, making her shiver. Once his touch had drawn them closer. Now, it only served as a reminder of what they had lost.
She pulled away and climbed down from the table. “Where is she?”
The frown denting his forehead made her uneasy. He removed his sunglasses, his gaze hard against the glare from the water. “She’s at least twenty minutes out. I don’t think we should wait.”
“Me, either.”
He scanned the marina and his gaze landed on the fisherman, who set his fishing pole into a holder at the dock. Jace’s body tensed.
“See that guy over there?”
She nodded.
“Notice anything unusual?”
Her stomach did a flip-flop from anxiety instead of hunger. “He’s fishing without any tackle. Or bait. Just the lure on his pole.”
“Right. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
As they headed back to the bike, Jace kept looking at the fisherman, who had turned to watch them. The man seemed to sense their departure, for he abruptly abandoned his fishing pole.
Jace quickened their pace. “Hurry,” he urged her.
Kara ran to the motorcycle, put her pack into a saddlebag and then climbed on. She put on the helmet as Jace reached for the handgun tucked into the side of his jeans. Not caring about his obvious interest, the fisherman hurried down the dock, but suddenly, as if by a stroke of good luck, his pole jerked in the holder.
“You got one,” Jace called out. “Better run if you don’t want your gear in the drink.”
As Jace tucked his gun away, mounted the bike and then started the engine, she heard the man’s curses as he did an about-face and ran to his fishing pole. It suddenly flew out of the holder and into the water.
Kara didn’t look back to see if the man followed his pole into the bay to retrieve it as they roared off, heading on the causeway toward the interstate again.
It was probably nothing. Only her tired and quite overactive imagination seeing shadows behind shadows.
But she had a bad feeling about all this. Someone was following them.
Kara hugged him tight as Jace headed north on the interstate, making good time.
His quick call to his boss proved worrisome. Word on the street had spread about the clubhouse murder and Dylan was a suspect. The local law enforcement, local LEOs, as they called them, wanted him for questioning.
If the DP discovered Dylan had seen Marcus, that put him in even more peril, more than simply taking the jewelry they had stolen.
The incident at the aquarium rattled him. Perhaps it was all innocent and the fisherman was waiting for someone else or playing a part, maybe even a private detective spying on one of the yachts anchored close to the marina. However, paranoia proved healthy in the past. Had the guy come after him when Jace was alone, he could have easily taken him. Perhaps gotten some answers as to who was following him.
With Kara, he didn’t dare take chances. Maybe it was better that way because, as his boss always warned, Jace could sometimes throw caution to the wind.
It was one reason Rafe had hesitated to assign him to this case. If not for Jace’s family background and his old man being a member of an outlaw bike club, Rafe would have selected someone else.
Kara had no clue what this was truly all about. One thing about his ex—once she dug her heels in, she stayed. Even when it grew dicey. Especially when her family was concerned.
If he had pushed even a little to stay together and asked her to work things out instead of walking away six years ago, Jace knew she’d have caved. But he hadn’t. Too many times in the past had he built those walls to keep from getting hurt, like his family had hurt him. His family, who were so different from Kara’s.
He thought about the warm reception her mother gave him. Damn, he held strong affection for both her parents. Claudia and Chuck treated him like a son, and when he and Kara broke it off, he missed them as much as he missed Kara.
Claudia had been more of a mother to him than his own mom, fussing about him, always worrying, ensuring his favorite meals were cooked when he came over. Inviting him on their family excursions.
He’d even traveled with them to the Bahamas to stay in their vacation house. Chuck invited him fishing and they’d had some mighty fine male bonding that day on the deep blue sea. Caught a few good snappers and had a great time grilling them later for the ladies.
They made a couple of stops for snacks and drinks, but Jace kept pushing on.
Finally, much later, knowing she needed to eat, Jace pulled into the parking lot of a small diner in a small town. It seemed safer here, more anonymous.