look at the duffel bag. “You’re holding stolen cash that you were handing off to a wanted man on the run from the law.”
Her face paled, but he had to drive home his point. “For all we know that shooter may come back or have a partner watching us now. Either he wants Pendergrass, that money, or both, and he’s obviously willing to kill to get it.”
The air seemed to whoosh from her lungs, the fight leaving her.
He led her to his car and rushed her into the passenger seat.
Marci folded her arms as Georgia approached, and he closed the car door so she wouldn’t hear his conversation.
“What did she say?” Georgia asked.
Cade hedged. “Nothing, yet, but she’s going to talk when I get her home.” He noted the guards still working the crowd. “Did anyone see anything?”
“Nothing helpful but we’ll keep trying.” She gestured at Marci. “You should arrest her again,” Georgia said tightly.
“She’s more valuable to us out of jail,” he said in a low voice. “Pendergrass wants her help, wants money he left behind. He didn’t get it today so he’ll call back.”
Georgia cut her eyes toward Marci, then pursed her lips. “That had better be the reason you’re not taking her in. You know she’s cunning and clever and will use that body to get her way.”
Her accusation made him ball his hands into fists. The insane urge to defend Marci’s honor traipsed through him.
The trouble was that he wanted his way with Marci.
But he couldn’t succumb to temptation. “Don’t worry about me. Just do what you can to track down Pendergrass’s car and the shooter’s. I’ll convince Marci to help us set a trap for her fiancé.”
Georgia gave him a lopsided grin. “Now you’re talking. You charm her into doing what you want, not the other way around.”
Cade gave a clipped nod, although as he climbed in the driver’s seat and Marci scorched him with her eyes, he doubted he’d be charming the woman into anything.
*~*~*~*
Marci wanted to hate the detective, but how could she hate someone who had saved her life? For goodness sake, he had put himself in the line of fire to protect her.
If he wasn’t trying to convict her of a crime she hadn’t committed, she might actually like the man.
No, no, no, that’s too dangerous. He’s just using you like other men have.
Like Paul had.
Her stomach lurched .
She wanted to believe that Paul really was innocent, but why would someone be shooting at her, at him, if he was?
And if he really loved her, would he have run away when the man shot at her, or would he have thrown himself in front of her to protect her like the mule-headed man next to her had?
Detective Muller’s gaze met hers, and she shivered.
Lord, he had intense eyes. Sexy eyes that a woman could drown in.
Then he dragged his gaze back to the mad scene in the Varsity parking lot, started the engine and pulled into traffic, and she latched onto her anger.
She could not fantasize about how sexy the cop was, or how much she wanted him to pull her into his arms and hold her when he still thought she was either a criminal -- or a fool.
Antsy, she twisted her fingers around the strap of the duffel bag. He cut his eyes toward the bag then back at her.
“You know giving that stolen money to Pendergrass is enough for the judge to revoke your bail and send you back to jail until the trial.”
A shudder coursed up her spine. “What if I had another agenda?”
“Like what? You were going to bring him in yourself?”
“Maybe I wanted the truth.”
His jaw clenched. “Now you have it. He left you – again.”
Did he have to keep rubbing her face in it? Her mind ticked over what he’d said, and her anger resurfaced. “How did you know there was money in the bag?”
He released a weary sigh, but he didn’t answer. He simply maneuvered the turns to her apartment complex, the tension mounting between them.
But the details of the past hour taunted her. She’d sensed
Her face paled, but he had to drive home his point. “For all we know that shooter may come back or have a partner watching us now. Either he wants Pendergrass, that money, or both, and he’s obviously willing to kill to get it.”
The air seemed to whoosh from her lungs, the fight leaving her.
He led her to his car and rushed her into the passenger seat.
Marci folded her arms as Georgia approached, and he closed the car door so she wouldn’t hear his conversation.
“What did she say?” Georgia asked.
Cade hedged. “Nothing, yet, but she’s going to talk when I get her home.” He noted the guards still working the crowd. “Did anyone see anything?”
“Nothing helpful but we’ll keep trying.” She gestured at Marci. “You should arrest her again,” Georgia said tightly.
“She’s more valuable to us out of jail,” he said in a low voice. “Pendergrass wants her help, wants money he left behind. He didn’t get it today so he’ll call back.”
Georgia cut her eyes toward Marci, then pursed her lips. “That had better be the reason you’re not taking her in. You know she’s cunning and clever and will use that body to get her way.”
Her accusation made him ball his hands into fists. The insane urge to defend Marci’s honor traipsed through him.
The trouble was that he wanted his way with Marci.
But he couldn’t succumb to temptation. “Don’t worry about me. Just do what you can to track down Pendergrass’s car and the shooter’s. I’ll convince Marci to help us set a trap for her fiancé.”
Georgia gave him a lopsided grin. “Now you’re talking. You charm her into doing what you want, not the other way around.”
Cade gave a clipped nod, although as he climbed in the driver’s seat and Marci scorched him with her eyes, he doubted he’d be charming the woman into anything.
*~*~*~*
Marci wanted to hate the detective, but how could she hate someone who had saved her life? For goodness sake, he had put himself in the line of fire to protect her.
If he wasn’t trying to convict her of a crime she hadn’t committed, she might actually like the man.
No, no, no, that’s too dangerous. He’s just using you like other men have.
Like Paul had.
Her stomach lurched .
She wanted to believe that Paul really was innocent, but why would someone be shooting at her, at him, if he was?
And if he really loved her, would he have run away when the man shot at her, or would he have thrown himself in front of her to protect her like the mule-headed man next to her had?
Detective Muller’s gaze met hers, and she shivered.
Lord, he had intense eyes. Sexy eyes that a woman could drown in.
Then he dragged his gaze back to the mad scene in the Varsity parking lot, started the engine and pulled into traffic, and she latched onto her anger.
She could not fantasize about how sexy the cop was, or how much she wanted him to pull her into his arms and hold her when he still thought she was either a criminal -- or a fool.
Antsy, she twisted her fingers around the strap of the duffel bag. He cut his eyes toward the bag then back at her.
“You know giving that stolen money to Pendergrass is enough for the judge to revoke your bail and send you back to jail until the trial.”
A shudder coursed up her spine. “What if I had another agenda?”
“Like what? You were going to bring him in yourself?”
“Maybe I wanted the truth.”
His jaw clenched. “Now you have it. He left you – again.”
Did he have to keep rubbing her face in it? Her mind ticked over what he’d said, and her anger resurfaced. “How did you know there was money in the bag?”
He released a weary sigh, but he didn’t answer. He simply maneuvered the turns to her apartment complex, the tension mounting between them.
But the details of the past hour taunted her. She’d sensed
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