Page 60 of Devil's Marker

Catcher found the security closet. It was automated, but not manned, which meant it was completely vulnerable to anyone who wanted to make adjustments. He couldn’t help but sneer at the sloppiness.

After identifying which were the two front door cameras, he pulled the box that housed the card with the digital record. It wasn’t selective, not the elegant fix it would be if he had time to work on it, but it would do in a pinch. He stuck it under his coat like he was shoplifting and headed out back to hand it off to Roar. The owner would think some junkie had stolen it hoping for a pawn shop pay out.

Meanwhile, Win did a quick visual sweep. He located R.C. on the dance floor, but didn’t see Dredge or the third guy they’d spotted earlier. He knew he couldn’t get anything done if he was paralyzed with worry about R.C. That concern had to be removed as a factor in play.

A highly energetic pop number was playing, the kind that had everybody on the floor more or less jumping up and down and whooping at the appropriate moment in the song, being egged on by the DJ. More sweat. More drinks.

When R.C. twirled around, she found her dance abruptly halted, and her body pressed flat against an ungiving form. The sudden cessation was shocking, but the physical contact, the sensation of touch, was hauntingly familiar. The man who’d claimed her so forcefully in the middle of a public dance floor had his left arm wrapped around her back in a steel embrace, her right hand firmly grasped in his left.

As her head had tilted back enough to get a look at the prick whose balls were about to be goose liver pâté, her eyes widened. “Garrett!”

With chaotic sound and movement all around them, Win held her tight and close and swayed gently like they were all alone and dancing to Cole Porter. It would be a moment she’d never forget, probably because of the surreal quality of being so totally out of sync with the environment and, at the same time, feeling like all was right with the world.

He leaned down so that his mouth was close to her ear. “Yeah. It’s me.” He was so intent on keeping her out of the net they were casting that he completely missed the way her body had gone pliant and melted against his, as if her cells collectively gathered into a happy sigh. “I’m here on club business. Somethin’s goin’ down. First choice, you wouldn’t be here. Second choice, we have to park you somewhere safe. I can’t do my job and worry about you.”

“Why would you be…?”

“No time for questions. You’re gonna have to trust me enough to do what I ask.”

Without further explanation, he led her to his end of the bar and waved for the bartender, who came right over. “Shawn. This is Arcy. She’s gonna sit her beautiful butt on this stool until I leave and not move a muscle. There’s an extra nice end to your night waitin’ if you can make sure that nobody bothers her. She can drink if she wants.”

Shawn looked back and forth between Win and R.C. “Okay. Sure.”

Just to be sure, he picked R.C. up and put her on the stool. “Now where’s Robin?”

“Robin?”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Your friend? Robin?”

“Oh.” R.C licked her lips, looking around. Win noticed that she seemed uncharacteristically unsettled. Maybe even a little fearful. Then he remembered that her number one goal in life was safety. Safety and security.

“Listen, baby.” He cupped his hand around the side of her face. “This is gonna be okay. You stay right here, you’ll be fine. Promise. I’ve got you.”

She blinked at him. “She went home with somebody. A while ago.”

Win remembered seeing her getting friendly with a guy in a hat. “Okay.” He planted a kiss on her forehead. “Good.”

He turned and walked away hoping to hell that she did what was asked of her for once in her bloody hell-raising life.

Catcher met Win as he’d just finished making another skirting of the perimeter.

“Unless they’re in the john, they’re not here,” Win said.

Catcher looked around. “I’ll check.”

Win stayed where he was. It was just before one o’clock and the crowd was definitely thinning out.

Catcher was walking back shaking his head. “I don’t know how they got past us, but unless there’s a way out that’s not front or back, we’ll figure it out.”

“How?”

Catcher’s mouth broadened into a big grin. “Roar’s got the box with the camera feed. I’ll go over it when we get back tonight.”

“You are one smart bastard.” Win caught himself just before saying, “We need somebody just like you in our club.” He was getting relaxed around these people. And that was the most dangerous thing he could do. “Might as well call it a night.”

Catcher slid his eyes to the bar. “Whachu gonna do about her?”

Win took in a big breath. “Put her in her car. Follow her home. Meet you at the clubhouse. Then I’m gonna make a tall stiff coffee and look at that feed with you.”

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