Torn - Cynthia Eden Page 0,29
in some fancy new ride—a Jag. Sleek and sporty as shit.”
“You’re sure it was her?” Wade pushed.
“I think it was.”
Again with the uncertain “think.” Wade knew just how unreliable eyewitness testimony could be. When he’d been a detective, two witnesses who’d seen the exact same scene would often offer completely different accounts.
“Look, buddy . . .” Slater shook his head. “Nothing’s sure in this world, now is it?” Then he turned his attention back to Victoria. “If you want to stay awhile, my break is coming up soon. Maybe you can help me remember a little more about that missing woman.”
Wade closed his fingers around Victoria’s wrist and pulled her back. “This Irish is taken.” Go get your fucking own.
He heard Victoria suck in a sharp breath, but she didn’t speak. He was sure she’d have plenty to say to him later. But they had an agreement, didn’t they? No ties. No strings. Partners, with benefits.
He squared his shoulders and faced off against the bouncer. “Melissa Hastings hasn’t been seen since she left Vintage last night. The cops are—”
“Yeah, pegged you as a cop from the first glance.”
Wade gave him a cold smile. “And you’re wrong. I’m not a cop. I’m someone who is very, very interested in finding this missing woman, alive. So I need to know—did you get the tag number for the vehicle? Can you give us more details on the man? Can you give me something that might bring Melissa home?”
Some of the bravado left Slater’s face. “Listen, man,” his voice dropped, “like I said, I just saw her stumble, okay? That’s why I remembered her. I glanced up, noticed her with the guy, but he got her in his ride and out of here before I saw any tag. Hell, I didn’t even think about looking for one. It was just some dude, taking care of his lady.”
Wade feared it was a whole lot more than that. “You said he talked to you, though.” Wade forced his jaw to unclench. This guy was frustrating the hell out of him. “Did he have any accent? Anything odd about his voice that you noticed.”
“Nah. No accent. Just . . . normal, you know? Nothing that stood out for me.”
Right. Not helpful. “You should expect a visit from a Detective Dace Black soon.”
Slater winced. “Boss isn’t gonna like it if this place is crawling with cops.”
“Yeah, well, I doubt Luther will like it more if he finds out that someone has been preying on women in his bar.”
He kept his hand wrapped around Victoria’s wrist as they headed back to the SUV. He could feel the tension in her body, practically rolling off her in waves. But she didn’t speak. Not while he opened her door, not while he climbed inside and turned the ignition, and not afterward.
“Shit, Viki,” he said, the shortened version of her name spilling from him. “Say something!”
He turned toward her. They were parked under a streetlight, and the faint illumination spilled into the vehicle.
“I think that if Melissa had just been spending the night with a lover, she would have contacted her friend Jim by now.” Her words were hesitant. “The fact that she appeared drunk and this unknown man was so quick to lead her away, I’m suspecting more and more that she could have been roofied or—”
His hands tightened around the wheel. “You think she was abducted.”
“Yes.”
And almost twenty-four hours had passed. He’d be calling Dace and updating him on the news they had uncovered about the Jag, fucking ASAP. But first . . . “Aren’t you going to rip into me because of what I said back there?”
Victoria’s silence could say a whole lot. Too much. That silence stretched and . . . “I agreed to your deal,” she finally said.
It was hard to breathe. “Partners, with benefits.” Just so they were both crystal clear.
“Since I agreed, you should know I’d tell you before I—”
“Decided to go fuck someone else? Hell, yeah, you’d better tell me that.” He was about to rip the steering wheel out of the dash. He sucked in a deep breath and had to say, “Be careful.”
“With what?”
Wade pulled away from the curb. “Me.” Be careful with me, sweetheart. Because I sure am not the sharing type. And when he’d seen the redhead practically eating Victoria with his eyes, a jealous fury had burned within him.
He’d promised her no ties. No strings.
He’d lied.
He wanted her bound just as tightly as he was. One way or another,