"Boss, no offense, but she's a ranger. She doesn't have the experience to spot someone as crafty as our boy appears to be."
So he'd tried to tell her, and he had earned a withering look and sharp words for his efforts. “What's Trista doing?"
"Going back through the files, like you asked."
"Good. Give me a call if you spot the blonde in the truck, but don't pull her over. Just tail her."
"Will do."
Cade hung up and called Trista, asking her to come down to the club's parking lot with the crime scene kit. Given the extreme smell of burned rubber when the truck had taken off, there'd surely be skid marks evident. Even if they couldn't pick up the tread pattern, they'd at least get an idea of tire width, which, in turn, might give them some idea if the tracks left in the forest were a possible match. As he hung up from Trista, Savannah walked out of the club. Just watching her had him hard.
It was, he thought, a totally inconvenient situation. Yet one he couldn't—wouldn't—relinquish. Not this damn time.
So, was it jealousy, like she'd claimed?
He didn't know. How could he, when he'd never experienced anything remotely resembling this emotion before he'd met her? But if jealousy could be classified as wanting to be the only one holding Vannah, the only one caressing her, loving her, then her accusation was probably right on the money. He'd never been good at sharing, that was for sure. As many of his brothers would undoubtedly testify.
She stopped well beyond his reach, but the cold night seemed to amplify her exotic scent. It touched his senses, warming him as quickly as any caress. Lord, it was just as well they'd taken the edge off the fever earlier; otherwise he'd be tearing off her clothes like some frenzied teenager new to the sport of loving.
"I've asked Ike to come down and tail Denny.” Her voice was cool, professional, totally devoid of the heat he could see in her eyes.
Cade nodded. “Could be he'll lead us to the blonde."
"I wasn't worried about him leading us to her. I was worried about his safety."
"I doubt he'd—"
"You're willing to risk his life on a doubt?” she cut in, the heat in her eyes now anger rather than desire.
"No.” He paused. “If that's the case, why use Ike to tail him? The kid's a little inexperienced, isn't he?"
"Maybe, but he's also closer to Denny's age than any of the rest of us. He won't look so out of place at some of Denny's haunts."
"People are going to recognize him, especially with that hair of his."
"He'll wear a beanie pulled down over it. Quite the fashion amongst teenagers at the moment—or so he tells me."
Cade wasn't convinced but he kept his doubts to himself. After all, she knew her people better than he did. “Did Denny have anything else to give us?"
"He did say that I looked hot.” Amusement touched her lush lips, but it quickly faded. “And he didn't meet her at the club, but rather the burger joint on Galena Street. Said she'd worked the night shift there, off and on, for the last couple of weeks. Thought I'd head over there now and check it out."
His gaze drifted down her leather-clad body, and his erection became positively painful as it pressed against the studs of his fly. Shifting his stance didn't help. “If you go dressed like that, they're never going to look at you the same way again."
"And that could be a good thing,” she muttered, blowing out a breath that lifted the silky black strands from her forehead. “I'll change, naturally."
"Good.” He didn't want anyone else ogling her any more than he wanted anyone else making love to her.
Was that a wolf's natural predatory instincts, or something else entirely? He didn't know.
Didn't want to know.
Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Just because the moon is on your side, don't think you can control all my actions."
"I wouldn't dream of it."
She snorted softly. “Yeah, right."
He glanced at his watch and saw it was barely eleven—thankfully, there was a lot of night left to sate his desire with her. “Shall we meet back at your lodge by two? That gives us a few hours before dawn."