Page 55 of Lethal Danger

Jazz’s face, the stunned horror in her eyes as he’d held her back from the body of her aunt, flashed in his memory, clenching his gut all over again. Didn’t think he’d ever forget that sight.

Was the cult responsible for that? No pin had been found this time. They’d hardly leave a calling card unless they wanted the cult to get shut down, which Desmond Patch definitely did not.

And what about Jazz’s flat tire tonight? He’d gotten a look at the puncture. The tire hadn’t been slashed, but the clean slice looked very deliberate. Like a knife had been used to cut it intentionally. And Jazz had instantly started scanning the parking lot as if she’d suspected someone might be watching. Was she being followed? Harassed? Was it related to the sabotage at the fair?

Hawthorne steeled his jaw. If he found any hint on the security footage or anywhere else that the cult was involved in the fair incidents or endangering Jazz, he’d have all the more reason to revisit his old prison. The place that still held three members of his family captive.

And he’d personally make sure Desmond Patch finally paid for what he’d done.

Sixteen

“So someone followed you there?” Nev’s full lips pressed into a frown as she watched Jazz across the kitchen table.

“You know I don’t miss tails.” Jazz sipped flavored decaf coffee from her green mug.

“Then how’d they know where you’d be?”

Jazz reached into her tight jeans pocket and pulled out the pieces of the small tracker she’d disabled. She plunked them on the table.

Nev’s mouth dropped open.

“Found it inside the rear bumper.”

“So that’s what took you so long getting home.”

“Well, that and waiting for Hawthorne to change the tire. Then I had to pretend to drive toward home and pull off somewhere so I could look for the tracker.”

Nev’s dark eyes studied Jazz’s face. “You didn’t tell him you thought the flat was intentional?”

Jazz lifted one shoulder and took another sip of the hot brew.

“Probably a good idea. How much do we really know about him, besides him being your favorite author?”

“Oh, it’s not that I don’t trust him.” Jazz glanced at her friend. “I just didn’t want him to think I was weird or be put off by all the danger we seem to get into.”

Nev quirked an eyebrow. “He writes crime fiction.” She lifted her mug shaped like a rottweiler head to her mouth. She paused before drinking. “Which could mean he’s creepy, actually. You shouldn’t just trust him automatically.”

“Says the woman who doesn’t trust men anyway.”

Nev lowered her mug and opened her mouth.

Jazz held up a hand to stop the protest. “Except for Branson. I know.” And that in itself was a wonder, given Nev’s very good reason for not trusting men. If Jazz had been assaulted the way Nev had, she’d probably steer clear of all men for the rest of her life and be an absolute wreck. Sure was good to see Nev getting her courage back. And to see her so much happier these days. Even if that did mean Jazz had to lose some closeness with her BFF. So long as Nev was happy and at peace, that was the most important thing.

“I think we should ask Cora to tell Phoenix about this.” Nev tapped her fingers on the table, making Flash lift his head from the floor and watch her suspiciously. “She might come back early if she knew you’re still in danger.”

“I don’t think so.”

Nev leaned forward, her eyebrows drawing together under the blue satin cap that covered her curls. “I don’t know why you always think she doesn’t like you.”

“Because she doesn’t.”

“You know she act like that with everybody, right?”

Jazz hid a smile as Nev slipped into the Ebonics she only used with her family and Jazz. “You mean like she hates them?”

Nev laughed, leaning back as she lifted her mug again. “She don’t act like she hates people. Just like…” Nev cast her gaze to the ceiling, “like she got better things to do than hold your hand.”

Jazz narrowed her eyes, though humor twitched her lips. “I don’t want her to hold my hand.”

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