Page 67 of Every Which Way

The waitress delivered their drinks and food. By the time Kenna was done with her scan and had found Miller over at one end of the bar parked on a stool, Ramon had finished half his beer.

She switched his bottle for hers, so it looked like she was drinking, and took three fries from the basket. Hot. Greasy. “Okay, she was right about the fries. Maybe they’re the reason Roxanne wanted to be here.”

Ramon took another swig, looking around.

“See her yet?” Her back was to the room, so no doubt he’d see Roxanne come in before she did.

“She just walked in.”

Kenna shifted in her chair but caught herself.

“Whoa.” Ramon put his hand over hers.

She held on for an anchor, leaning on her partner in the way she was supposed to. Making their relationship sell to the people around them and keeping it platonic between them. Not that she had ever had feelings for Ramon, and if he’d had any for her, then he’d kept them to himself.

When was Jax coming up here, anyway?

“You good?”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. What’s she doing?”

“Doesn’t matter. She tried to take Maizie. She’s not going anywhere until she answers for that.”

“Good. Then we’re on the same page.” Kenna squeezed his hand, then pulled hers back. “She doesn’t leave.”

“She approached Miller.”

Kenna shifted again, bringing the half-drunk bottle of beer with her. “Good. Let’s go.”

“You gonna keep saying ‘good’?”

“If I want.” She grabbed another one of the fries and stuck it in her mouth. “Let’s see if there’s an open pool table. After we say hi to our friends we’re about to bump into.”

Ramon’s expression no longer had any affection in it. He was a predator with prey in his sights and zero intention of letting that prey get away.

Kenna threaded through the tables, Ramon right behind her, heading toward the pool tables. She glanced at the guy at the bar. “Miller!” She tried not to betooloud, but she needed Roxanne to see her.

On the stool at the bar, Miller lowered his bottle from his mouth where he’d been about to take a drink. He set the bottle down and slid his hand to his hip, keeping it there, out of sight. “Hey, Kenna!”

Roxanne stood beside him. She stiffened and turned to Kenna and Ramon, a calculated expression on her face. Her eyes dark. Her makeup heavy. Roadhouse Roxanne wasn’t impressed.

“Gotcha.” Kenna couldn’t resist saying it. She stood a few feet away from Roxanne with Ramon by her left shoulder. “You’re coming with us. It’s best to do it quietly, with no fuss.”

“I’m being arrested?” Roxanne glanced at Miller, then back at them. “You really think that’ll stick when you have no warrant, no charges, no evidence, and no reason to take me anywhere.”

She spoke with an American accent, a decent one. Not much trace of the British accent Kenna had heard her speak with so far.

Ramon said, “You ran from the car with Maizie in it.”

“She’s the one who crashed. I was scared for my life.” Roxanne played innocent.

Kenna shook her head, not buying it for a second. It was clear she’d thought this through, working out ahead of time what her defense was going to be. “We aren’t going around and around on this. Let’s go.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she cleared her throat, which was suddenly starting to feel thick. “We don’t need to make a scene—” Her voice quit, and she swallowed, sucking in air.

“You okay, Kenna?” Ramon shifted beside her.

“Not sure.”

Roxanne’s expression changed to one of immense satisfaction.

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