floor, because she didn’t see them.
Detective Muller gripped her arms. “Stay put!”
Marci was shaking too badly to do anything else. “Where are you going?”
“To see where that shot came from.” He pushed her down further, then peered around the SUV.
A dark sedan screeched into traffic, rubber peeling as it darted in front of a Marta bus and cut across four lanes of traffic.
“Dammit, that’s probably him.” He yanked his phone from his belt and called it in. “Put an APB on a black sedan, tinted windows, custom hubcaps.” His breathing rasped out. “No, I didn’t get the license plate.” He kicked the concrete with a curse.
“Pendergrass was driving a silver Lexus, headed south. Get units downtown on I-85 now!”
He heaved another breath, then two security guards rushed toward him, their faces shaken. “What’s going on?”
The detective flashed his badge, and gestured toward Marci. Marci’s heart drummed so hard she thought it was going to beat out of her chest. The couple from the SUV slowly eased up from the floor where they’d been hiding.
“Is it safe now?” the teenager asked through the open window.
“Yes,” Detective Muller said. He motioned to Marci to indicate that it was safe.
She stood slowly, her mind racing as she walked over to him. The spectators and staff, began congregating like rubberneckers, the guards corralling the crowd under control.
Another police car screeched up, and the female cop who’d been so rough on her during the interrogation jumped out and hurried toward them. “Did you see the shooter, Muller?”
Detective Muller shook his head. “No, the windows were tinted. Did you see his face, Marci?”
“No.” Marci frowned, upset at Paul and the situation.
Just how had the detective gotten there so quickly?
He glanced at her then nodded toward his partner. “Georgia, take the guards and question everyone here. Maybe someone saw the shooter’s face and we can ID him. I’m going to drive Miss Turner home.”
Marci stiffened, dreading the inquisition.
*~*~*~*
Cade wanted to stay and question the crew in the parking lot himself. Hell, he wanted to get in the car and chase Pendergrass and that shooter.
But he was only one man and he couldn’t do it all.
Marci needed protection.
She was definitely in danger.
And that trumped even finding Pendergrass.
That thought of her being hurt sent a frisson of fear through him that he had no business feeling. Dammit, she looked fragile and vulnerable and could have been killed.
He wanted to wrap her in his arms and promise her everything would be all right, that he’d protect her and put Pendergrass away for getting her involved in this mess.
But the fear he’d seen in her eyes moments ago quickly morphed into anger. Was she angry at Pendergrass for deserting her again, or angry at him for doing his job?
Hell, she should be thanking him. He’d saved her life while Pendergrass did what he did best -- left someone else holding the bag.
He shrugged off her animosity. It didn’t matter if she was mad at him. She was the key to Pendergrass, and he needed to get her in the clear just in case the shooter had a partner. “Come on, Marci.”
She dug in her heels and clutched that duffel bag to her like it was a security blanket. “No thanks. I have my car.”
A curse word floated to the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. He should confiscate that duffel bag and turn it in for evidence. Instead he forced himself to remain calm. They might need the money later to set a trap.
“I’ll have a uniform drop off your VW.”
“No,” Marci said yanking her arm from his grip. “I refuse to be stuck without transportation.”
“Marci, listen to me,” Cade said between clenched teeth. “I could haul your pretty little ass in right now for aiding and abetting a felon.”
She gaped at him. “But I wasn’t –“
“You most certainly were, sweetheart.” He gave a pointed
Detective Muller gripped her arms. “Stay put!”
Marci was shaking too badly to do anything else. “Where are you going?”
“To see where that shot came from.” He pushed her down further, then peered around the SUV.
A dark sedan screeched into traffic, rubber peeling as it darted in front of a Marta bus and cut across four lanes of traffic.
“Dammit, that’s probably him.” He yanked his phone from his belt and called it in. “Put an APB on a black sedan, tinted windows, custom hubcaps.” His breathing rasped out. “No, I didn’t get the license plate.” He kicked the concrete with a curse.
“Pendergrass was driving a silver Lexus, headed south. Get units downtown on I-85 now!”
He heaved another breath, then two security guards rushed toward him, their faces shaken. “What’s going on?”
The detective flashed his badge, and gestured toward Marci. Marci’s heart drummed so hard she thought it was going to beat out of her chest. The couple from the SUV slowly eased up from the floor where they’d been hiding.
“Is it safe now?” the teenager asked through the open window.
“Yes,” Detective Muller said. He motioned to Marci to indicate that it was safe.
She stood slowly, her mind racing as she walked over to him. The spectators and staff, began congregating like rubberneckers, the guards corralling the crowd under control.
Another police car screeched up, and the female cop who’d been so rough on her during the interrogation jumped out and hurried toward them. “Did you see the shooter, Muller?”
Detective Muller shook his head. “No, the windows were tinted. Did you see his face, Marci?”
“No.” Marci frowned, upset at Paul and the situation.
Just how had the detective gotten there so quickly?
He glanced at her then nodded toward his partner. “Georgia, take the guards and question everyone here. Maybe someone saw the shooter’s face and we can ID him. I’m going to drive Miss Turner home.”
Marci stiffened, dreading the inquisition.
*~*~*~*
Cade wanted to stay and question the crew in the parking lot himself. Hell, he wanted to get in the car and chase Pendergrass and that shooter.
But he was only one man and he couldn’t do it all.
Marci needed protection.
She was definitely in danger.
And that trumped even finding Pendergrass.
That thought of her being hurt sent a frisson of fear through him that he had no business feeling. Dammit, she looked fragile and vulnerable and could have been killed.
He wanted to wrap her in his arms and promise her everything would be all right, that he’d protect her and put Pendergrass away for getting her involved in this mess.
But the fear he’d seen in her eyes moments ago quickly morphed into anger. Was she angry at Pendergrass for deserting her again, or angry at him for doing his job?
Hell, she should be thanking him. He’d saved her life while Pendergrass did what he did best -- left someone else holding the bag.
He shrugged off her animosity. It didn’t matter if she was mad at him. She was the key to Pendergrass, and he needed to get her in the clear just in case the shooter had a partner. “Come on, Marci.”
She dug in her heels and clutched that duffel bag to her like it was a security blanket. “No thanks. I have my car.”
A curse word floated to the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. He should confiscate that duffel bag and turn it in for evidence. Instead he forced himself to remain calm. They might need the money later to set a trap.
“I’ll have a uniform drop off your VW.”
“No,” Marci said yanking her arm from his grip. “I refuse to be stuck without transportation.”
“Marci, listen to me,” Cade said between clenched teeth. “I could haul your pretty little ass in right now for aiding and abetting a felon.”
She gaped at him. “But I wasn’t –“
“You most certainly were, sweetheart.” He gave a pointed
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