Page 22 of Clay

Both Smith and Jones looked surprised. “He’s gone. We thought he was one of yours. Said he was counsel.”

Dev shook his head, puzzled. “Smith is the only counsel we keep on retainer. Can you describe him for me?”

“Scary as shit,” Ivy said, and Smith nodded in agreement. “Everything about him was average, but his eyes,” she shuddered. “His eyes were like a shark’s. Dead.”

“He was here when I arrived,” Smith said. “Said he was one of yours, even handed me a card.” He pulled it out of his coat pocket and handed it over.

Dev studied the card, ran his finger over the raised font. “Tobias Davenport. Never heard of him.” He looked at Jones, who shook his head. “This is the same cardstock, same font, everything. It’s a perfect match to ours.”

“Do you think this has anything to do with Katie?” Ivy asked, now even more worried than she had been when she hired SMS. Because if Katie was mixed up with Davenport…

Devin shook his head. “I don’t think so, but if it does, then Katie McAlister is involved in something we haven’t even begun to touch yet.”

“He’ll be on camera,” Jones said, now sounding very interested. “We’ll run him, and I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Can you send me a still?” Devin asked, all easy and friendly, which didn’t seem to fool Jones for a second.

“Only if you read me in on what you find.”

Devin nodded in agreement, and Ivy had no doubt he’d find out exactly who the other man had been.

Jones disappeared down the hallway and Dev settled into the chair next to Ivy. “We’ve got your back, Ivy. Don’t worry.” His voice was so soothing she felt everything settle down.

Even placated a bit, she still felt questions bubbling inside her but held her silence. If Dev wasn’t going to be all chatty, she wasn’t either. When she got out of this, though? Oh, then there was going to be a lot of talking. Of explaining.

Jones reappeared a moment later, looking troubled. “Davenport’s gone. And you’re free to go.” He looked at Dev, grimaced. “Warrant for Ms. Foster was issued three days ago. We’re digging into who issued it, and if it’s even out of South Carolina.” He shook his head. “Feds are probably going to get involved,” he warned.

Dev shrugged. “As they should.” He stood, held out his hand to Ivy. “C’mon, Clay’s waiting for you.”

Relief washed over her. As nice as Dev seemed, she wanted Clay.

They walked into the lobby and there he was, tall and strong and solid.

She stepped straight into his arms, and everything in her world settled back onto its axis.

~~~

How the hell had she gotten out of it? It wasn’t as if a felony warrant was something you just strolled away from. Especially one for dealing heroin. But approximately thirty minutes after she’d been taken to Booking, she’d walked away with the flyboy, not a care in the world.

Surely her parents couldn’t be that connected. Or loaded. So what had happened?

Fuck it. It didn’t matter, and it made his next choice that much easier. He dialed a number on the burner and set the next piece of his plan into motion. “Do it,” he instructed, and watched as Ivy climbed into a big SUV he hadn’t seen before. Stranger and stranger. “They’re in a white SUV, heading toward Fremont. Make it count and bring me the woman.”

Chapter Six

Clay looked over the top of Ivy’s head as she tunneled into his arms, ignoring Dev’s quirked eyebrow.

Damn, she felt so right, even when everything was so wrong.

He gave her a full-body squeeze, sparking every single nerve in his body, and then held her at arm’s-length.

“You okay?”

She nodded, but it wasn’t with her usual panache, and he knew she’d been shaken.

“C’mon. Jordan took the Gremlin back to your place and left us the SUV.” She'd laughed when he'd asked, said it'd be a pleasure to drive such a classic, even if she was afraid to go over forty.

He didn’t say that he felt a ton safer driving the big, solid vehicle than her sixty-plus year-old tin can. Plus, she had an attachment to it, and he didn’t want it to be hurt in any way, shape or form.

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