more precise investigative methods out there today and—”
He stopped because Eve’s face, naturally pale, had turned as white as the potassium perchlorate he used when making explosive primers.
“What?” he asked. “What is it?”
“D-Dale,” she said, her pulse hammering at the base of her throat. Seeing it caused every cell in Bill’s body to go on high alert. Somewhere inside him a red light was flashing and an alarm was blaring.
“What about the bastard?” he demanded, sitting up straighter, barely recognizing his own voice.
“He’s a…” She licked her lips. “He’s a volunteer firefighter. And he…he does a lot of training with the CFD.”
And just like that, rage exploded inside Bill with the force of a bunker buster. Because even though he and Eve weren’t exactly simpatico, the fact remained that nobody, and he meant nobody, got away with attempting to turn her into a crispy critter.
“Let’s go get him,” he said, his molars aching with the force of his grinding jaw.
“But…but…” Eve blinked rapidly when he pushed up from the table, ready to put an extra hole in Dale WhoTheFuck’s head. “Shouldn’t we bring this to the police? Or…or the fire department? Or—”
“You mean the same police who’ve already closed the files on your cases?” he snarled, blowing like a raging bull. Luckily no one at the table was wearing red. “Or the CFD that incorrectly identified your condo fire’s point of origin? You think they’re going to listen to a couple of motorcycle mechanics?”
“Oh,” Eve said, clueing in to their perilous situation. “I see.” Then she shook her head. “But you’re friends with the police chief, right? Couldn’t you—”
“Yeah,” this time it was Mac who cut in, “and we want to stay friends with him. Which means we can’t have him orderin’ his subordinates to reinvestigate closed cases based simply on the hunches of a couple of guys from the local motorcycle club.”
“Okay,” she admitted, “but maybe Jeremy—”
“Love, your cousin would be as useless now as he has been all along,” Ace interrupted, and a delicate muscle began to tick in Eve’s jaw. “These aren’t his cases. Hell, this isn’t even his department.”
Used to be, Bill didn’t think Eve owned a temper. Now he’d go so far as to describe it as, not necessarily hot, but certainly warm. And after Mac told him how she’d stood up to her father earlier? Well, for some reason it just made her all the more desirable. Like he needed any more reasons. Damnit all to hell…
“We’re just going to go watch Dale for a while. See if he does anything hinky, anything that we can give Chief Washington as ammunition to reopen your cases,” Bill assured her, even though there was a large part of him that would’ve preferred storming into the man’s house and shoving a pistol against his temple until he spilled his guts. Then again, he wasn’t on the battlefield. This was a civilian issue that required a civilian response. Although…even in a civilian situation there was still some room for a little shock and awe if the need arose.
The anticipation of getting his mitts on Dale caused a smile to curve to his lips.
“Oh, goody.” Ace rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Anytime you get that look I know there are fun times ahead…”
Chapter Five
Dale Pennyworth’s Townhouse
9:35 p.m.
“What do you mean I’m staying here?” Eve demanded, glaring out the rear passenger side window of the Hummer at Dale’s broad back as he lumbered down the sidewalk. There he was, pretty as you please, probably strolling down to the corner market to pick up milk or beer or cheese puffs like he hadn’t tried to kill her on three separate occasions.
Well…maybe. She still had trouble picturing Dale pouring fuel under her door and setting a match to it. Because, sure, he was mustache creepy, but he’d never really come off as murderer creepy.
Then again, she’d been
He stopped because Eve’s face, naturally pale, had turned as white as the potassium perchlorate he used when making explosive primers.
“What?” he asked. “What is it?”
“D-Dale,” she said, her pulse hammering at the base of her throat. Seeing it caused every cell in Bill’s body to go on high alert. Somewhere inside him a red light was flashing and an alarm was blaring.
“What about the bastard?” he demanded, sitting up straighter, barely recognizing his own voice.
“He’s a…” She licked her lips. “He’s a volunteer firefighter. And he…he does a lot of training with the CFD.”
And just like that, rage exploded inside Bill with the force of a bunker buster. Because even though he and Eve weren’t exactly simpatico, the fact remained that nobody, and he meant nobody, got away with attempting to turn her into a crispy critter.
“Let’s go get him,” he said, his molars aching with the force of his grinding jaw.
“But…but…” Eve blinked rapidly when he pushed up from the table, ready to put an extra hole in Dale WhoTheFuck’s head. “Shouldn’t we bring this to the police? Or…or the fire department? Or—”
“You mean the same police who’ve already closed the files on your cases?” he snarled, blowing like a raging bull. Luckily no one at the table was wearing red. “Or the CFD that incorrectly identified your condo fire’s point of origin? You think they’re going to listen to a couple of motorcycle mechanics?”
“Oh,” Eve said, clueing in to their perilous situation. “I see.” Then she shook her head. “But you’re friends with the police chief, right? Couldn’t you—”
“Yeah,” this time it was Mac who cut in, “and we want to stay friends with him. Which means we can’t have him orderin’ his subordinates to reinvestigate closed cases based simply on the hunches of a couple of guys from the local motorcycle club.”
“Okay,” she admitted, “but maybe Jeremy—”
“Love, your cousin would be as useless now as he has been all along,” Ace interrupted, and a delicate muscle began to tick in Eve’s jaw. “These aren’t his cases. Hell, this isn’t even his department.”
Used to be, Bill didn’t think Eve owned a temper. Now he’d go so far as to describe it as, not necessarily hot, but certainly warm. And after Mac told him how she’d stood up to her father earlier? Well, for some reason it just made her all the more desirable. Like he needed any more reasons. Damnit all to hell…
“We’re just going to go watch Dale for a while. See if he does anything hinky, anything that we can give Chief Washington as ammunition to reopen your cases,” Bill assured her, even though there was a large part of him that would’ve preferred storming into the man’s house and shoving a pistol against his temple until he spilled his guts. Then again, he wasn’t on the battlefield. This was a civilian issue that required a civilian response. Although…even in a civilian situation there was still some room for a little shock and awe if the need arose.
The anticipation of getting his mitts on Dale caused a smile to curve to his lips.
“Oh, goody.” Ace rubbed his hands together gleefully. “Anytime you get that look I know there are fun times ahead…”
Chapter Five
Dale Pennyworth’s Townhouse
9:35 p.m.
“What do you mean I’m staying here?” Eve demanded, glaring out the rear passenger side window of the Hummer at Dale’s broad back as he lumbered down the sidewalk. There he was, pretty as you please, probably strolling down to the corner market to pick up milk or beer or cheese puffs like he hadn’t tried to kill her on three separate occasions.
Well…maybe. She still had trouble picturing Dale pouring fuel under her door and setting a match to it. Because, sure, he was mustache creepy, but he’d never really come off as murderer creepy.
Then again, she’d been
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