“But why?” I rub my jaw. “Why would he have so much rage? There’s nothing about previous issues with the sister and her boyfriend. It doesn’t make sense. And if he just wanted to kill them, why beat him but not her? Why not stab him too and leave?”
“Maybe the boyfriend did something to him, or the boyfriend and the sister. Maybe something bad happened and he wanted revenge on both of them.”
“So why stab her but beat him first?”
Vance narrows his eyes. “Maybe the boyfriend was the one who instigated it … maybe he was trying to defend his sister … there are plenty of reasons.”
“It just doesn’t seem right.”
“Grace,” Vance warns, “don’t get caught up in this. You have a job to do, and that job is to bring Raide in. It’s not your job to be a pretend cop and try to figure out what went down. He was arrested, and there was obviously good reason.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s right, Vance.”
He reaches across the desk, taking my hands and pulling me close. “Don’t get caught up in this,” he repeats. “Not only could you lose your job but you could end up in danger, too. Just bring him in, Grace.”
I nod, knowing he’s not going to understand or even try to. I force a smile and unwrap the Chinese food. As I eat, I try to push thoughts of Raide out of my mind. He didn’t seem like a bad person. Arrogant, sure—but a murderer? That just doesn’t fit. But then, who am I to try to analyze? Some of the best killers are the ones you least suspect.
I just have a feeling there’s more to Raide’s story than meets the eye.
And I’m determined to find out.
Chapter Seven
Here I am again. Trying to get Raide’s attention.
It’s week two of our little dance and I’m supposed to give Don a report. I need something to report back, but at the moment, Raide is giving me nothing. I followed him to yet another club, and I have to wonder why he’s spending his time going from club to club. He’s obviously looking for something, because I always see him having intense conversations with people who look more than a little suspicious.
Tonight we’ve ended up at a club that’s somewhat deserted. It’s a quiet nightspot on the outskirts of town, and there are only fifty or so people here. Most are playing pool or sitting at the bar, a few are dancing. Raide is in the back corner with a woman and two men. They’re discussing something in depth. They’re all huddled together, drinks tucked close to their bodies. I get myself a drink and watch him out of the corner of my eye. I see the exact moment he notices me, because his eyes narrow.
I turn back to my drink, pretending I haven’t seen him.
Five minutes later, he’s by my side, leaning into my ear. “You following me?”
I turn and stare at him. I’ve played the drunken tart, and it didn’t work. So now I’m shrugging him off. “Sorry, do I know you?”
Again, he narrows his eyes. “Playin’ games, lady?”
“I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.” Of course, I don’t expect him to believe this, but I do hope to make him intrigued.
He grins. Mission accomplished.
“I can play it like that.”
I shoot back a tequila and stand. “Not sure what we’re playing—but, honey, I’m up for anything.”
With that, I walk out onto the dance floor and start dancing. Damned proud of myself. I sway my hips, knowing that I’ve gotten half the club's attention. I’m into the song, eyes closed, hips swaying, when a warm, hard body presses against mine. I inwardly grin as I open my eyes and look down at the hands on my hips. Yep, Raide’s. How do I know? He wears a ring, a dark gray band that wraps around one of his perfect fingers.
He doesn’t say a word, he just starts swaying with me, hands still on my hips, body plastered against mine. I close my eyes, enjoying the moment. His hands slide up my belly and stop just under my breasts as he pulls me back into him, grinding my body against his. Oh boy. Things just got hot in here. I can feel his erection against my ass, and I won’t deny that it’s impressive.
“I like games,” he murmurs into my ear. “But there’s only so long I play them before I take what I need.”
“And what is it you need?” I ask, turning my face so our lips are millimeters apart.
“Lady,” he growls low. “Not even you’re that stupid.”
I grin and stare down at his lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t even know you.”
He grins, presenting two perfect dimples that I want, really badly, to lick.
“Same place at the same time over and over,” he murmurs, lifting his hand and gripping my jaw. He turns my face back toward the crowd, and his lips find my neck. I shudder. “That’s no coincidence. You wanted me from the first time I put you against that wall, Gracie.”
I shiver.
“You’ve been going out of your way since then to show up wherever I am. Now, are you going to admit it—or do we need to play a little longer?”