What case? Emerson tried to dart around Gray.
He moved to the side, effortlessly blocking her dart. “Working on it right now.”
“Uh, huh. Looked to me like you were working on something different.” Mocking.
She realized that the flash of headlights had probably illuminated her and Gray quite well.
“It’s called laying groundwork,” Gray returned. “Setting the scene.”
Her hands fisted. She’d thought what they were doing was called kissing.
“She’s my partner, Dr. Emerson Marlowe.”
Partner.
“Oh, I know exactly who she is.” The stranger seemed pleased. “Glad she’s the one you picked for the job.” A brief pause. “You’ll take him out?”
“I’ll…apprehend the suspect.” Careful words.
Enough of this nonsense. She elbowed Gray out of her way. He rumbled a warning to her, but she ignored that warning and faced off with the stranger. Gray’s height. Gray’s build. If only she could see his features clearly. “Who are you?”
“Sweetheart, names aren’t entering this game.”
“I’mnotyour sweetheart,” she returned instantly.
“She sure as hell isn’t.” A lethal warning from Gray. “Watch yourself.”
Soft laughter. “Is that you getting into character, too? The jealous lover? Bet you’ve never played that role in your life. A real bitch, isn’t it?”
Her gaze raked the stranger, going from the top of his head—thick, dark hair—and traveling down. Old t-shirt. Jeans. Black boots. His voice was deep, held no accent, but seemed…something is familiar about him.“Do I know you?” Emerson asked.
“Better if you don’t,” he said. “Ask Gray. He’ll tell you it’s always better to pretend you have no clue who I am.”
Okay. Now she was even more curious. Her head turned toward Gray. “Are we meeting with a motorcycle gang leader in a dark alley? Because that’s sure what this seems like. Is he some sort of source for you?”
The stranger laughed. A deep, rumbling sound. Again…familiar.
Gray sighed. “Emerson, first, it’s a narrow street, not an alley. And, second, calling someone a gang leader isn’t polite. Third…” Gray pointed at the biker. “You’re the one who likes to pretend. Not me.”
There were a whole lot of undercurrents flowing in that narrow street.
“Fuck politeness,” the biker said. “By the way, I saved you both from a mugger tonight. So when this case is over and you’re tallying up how much I owe you for putting this fucker in the ground, add that to my list, would you?” He turned away.
“We’re not putting anyone in the ground,” Gray snapped.
“Sure.” The biker waved his hand toward them. He’d almost reached his bike. “You find him, pull him out of the dark, and I’ll bury him. Done. You know how I love to handle the dirty work.”
Footsteps rushed toward them.
Emerson wasn’t overly surprised to see the rest of the FBI team advancing. The arrival of the motorcycle gang had beenloud.Rylan was even reaching for his weapon as he eyed the leader.
“Stand down,” Gray snapped.
Rylan froze.
The biker climbed on the Harley.
Emerson found herself rushing toward the stranger. “What mugger?” Her heart drummed. Unease slithered through her.