Page 63 of Lethal Danger

Flash hurried to answer her call, his eyes filled with excitement as he looked up at her. Nothing like taking down the bad guys. “Flash, fass.” She indicated the fleeing thug with her hand.

The K-9 tore up the hall, easily catching the thug and detaining him with teeth.

Movement out the corner of her eye caught her attention.

The man Flash had left on the floor of the apartment was getting up and stupidly reaching for his Glock a few feet away.

“Don’t even think about it.” She leveled her Sig at him.

Huh. Same guy she’d nailed with her knife outside the convenience store. Nice of Flash to have bitten his alternate arm instead of the shoulder she’d stabbed. And unless her memory was playing tricks on her, Flash’s captive in the hallway was his partner from that night, too.

Now maybe she could get some answers. At least about who wanted her dead.

Keeping her gun trained on the guy who gave her a wide-eyed stare while holding his freshly wounded arm, Jazz pulled out her phone.

No sirens or people peeking out from the other apartments, so this fight must’ve been quiet enough not to wake the neighbors or prompt calls to the police. Looked like she’d have to bring them in herself to take the thugs off her hands.

She glanced at the time on her phone before dialing 911. Great. She still needed to find her old photos and take them to Uncle Pierce before she could possibly get ready for dinner.

But as she put the phone to her ear, she looked past the man on the floor and saw the rest of her apartment.

Her books were scattered all over the floor, her bookshelves broken, table upturned, sofa pillows tossed all over. Irritation flamed in her chest.

“Why in the world did you have to trash the place?” She glared at the thug on the floor. “Did you get bored waiting to kill me? Next time, I’ll just give you my schedule. And if you damaged even one page of my Hawthorne Emerson boo—”

The 911 operator picked up, and Jazz filled her in on the situation—once the woman got over her shock that Jazz had a protection K-9 assist in the apprehension of the criminals.

But all the while, Jazz was scrambling to figure out what to do about dinner with Hawthorne. Thanks to the state of her apartment, it looked like she’d have to move the non-date to a restaurant. Hopefully a very romantic, date-like restaurant.

Sometimes this security business sure interfered with a girl’s love life.

“Heard you’re going to have dinner with my girl tonight.”

Hawthorne paused under the Skyride cars overhead and turned toward the female voice behind him.

Nevaeh William’s distinctive curly hair and the muscled rottweiler at her side made for a pair that was hard to miss as they walked his way.

He smiled. He could tell when he’d met her earlier that Nevaeh and Jazz must be good friends. Jazz had apparently told her about their plans. “That’s right. She texted me a little while ago to switch it to a restaurant. She said her apartment’s a mess, but I find that hard to believe. She seems very put together.”

“Oh, it’s a mess all right.” Nevaeh stopped near Hawthorne.

“Really?” He couldn’t tell from her peculiar tone if she was joking or holding back some secret.

“Yeah. She got a little…” the woman’s big, dark eyes gleamed in the waning light of dusk, “surprised when she stopped by her apartment. She said a restaurant will be easier since she has to run some errands yet.”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Nevaeh tilted her head slightly, her curls leaning to follow the motion as she stared at him. “Is this a date?”

Whoa. The woman didn’t pull any punches. “Uh.” He shifted away from some people who brushed past as he scrambled for the safest answer. An automatic no leaped to the tip of his tongue, but maybe that wasn’t what Nevaeh wanted to hear. Still, he had to be honest. “No. I only want to find out more about Jazz.”

“Right. For the heroine in your new book.” Her lips held a line as disbelieving as her expression.

“Yes.” He tried a smile. “Honest, that’s really all it’s about.”

“You do this often?”

“Do what?”

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