Shadow Dance (Buchanan-Renard 6) - Page 17

Agent Street stood by a booth near the back. Noah waited until Jordan slid into the booth before he sat next to her.

“What’s in the folder, Agent Street?” Jordan asked.

“Please, call me Bryce,” he insisted, and was about to answer her question when the waiter appeared to take their drink orders.

“You’re off duty, right?” Bryce asked Noah.

“I haven’t officially been on duty for a couple of days now. I’m just helping out a friend.”

“You want a beer then?”

“Sure,” he answered. “Jordan?”

“Diet cola would be nice.”

As soon as the waiter walked away, Bryce said, “I’ve got a lot of information about the Dickey brothers. Randy’s okay, but J. D. has had trouble with the law off and on for years. He’s been in a lot of fights, but one bar fight landed him in prison.”

Noah waited to hear something new. “What’s interesting,” Bryce continued, “is that J. D.’s former cellmate, a man named Calvin Mills, is still doing twenty to life for murder. Cal, as he’s called, worked for a security company. He was really into all kinds of surveillance equipment, knew all the latest gadgets. Cal liked to drive by his house a couple of times a day to listen to his wife chatting it up on the phone.”

“He didn’t trust her,” Jordan surmised.

“As it turned out, ole Cal had good reason not to,” Bryce said. “He parked down the street one afternoon and listened to her pillow talk with a man she’d met at work. Cal later told the detectives he might have been able to forgive her the affair if she hadn’t been making fun of his…equipment.” He shot Jordan a quick glance before continuing. “According to Cal, his wife called his manhood a cocktail wiener.”

“That would do it all right,” Noah drawled, leaning back. “So he killed her, did he?”

“He sure did,” he said. “Fortunately for him, the judge was a man, so Cal didn’t get as much time as he might have.”

Noah nodded. “The judge was sympathetic.”

Jordan couldn’t tell if they were joking or serious. “The man killed his wife.”

“Yeah, I know,” Noah said, “but still, you just don’t make fun of a man’s equipment.”

Bryce was in full agreement. It was only when Noah winked at her that she knew he was teasing.

The drinks arrived, and after they placed their order for a couple of specialty pizzas, Bryce continued. “Cal taught J. D. everything he knew about surveillance. He took a real interest in J. D. One of the guards said Cal thinks of himself as some sort of technological guru.”

“Did you find out anything about J. D.’s finances?” Jordan asked.

“Yes, I did,” Bryce said. “He made a lot of cash deposits over the last six months, but unlike MacKenna, J. D.’s deposits were never more than a thousand dollars at a time.”

“Blackmail. That’s what he was doing,” Jordan said. “He was listening to people’s conversations and then blackmailing them.”

“That’s my guess,” Bryce agreed.

“I wish I could get inside his house,” Noah said.

“Yeah, well, without a warrant you can’t.”

Bryce handed Noah his notes and said, “Here’s everything I’ve got so far. If you need anything else, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Noah said, “I appreciate your help.”

“Glad to do it,” Bryce replied. “It’s nice to finally work with you. You and Nick Buchanan are practically legends in the agency. I’ve heard about some of your cases, and you’ve got quite a track record.”

Noah’s expression turned somber. “I wish it were better. They don’t all work out the way we want.”

Bryce nodded his agreement. “I know, but some do. I heard what you did with the Bains case in Dallas. It was all the talk for a while. I also heard recently that Jenna Bains is at SMU this year.”

A smile creased the edges of Noah’s eyes. “Yeah, she’s doing great.”

Jordan had been listening to the conversation with interest. “Who’s Jenna Bains?” she asked.

Noah answered. “A kid who didn’t deserve what she got.”

Bryce saw Jordan’s puzzled look at the vague answer Noah had given and said, “Jenna Bains was a kid whose parents died when she was young, and so she was sent to live with her only relative, an uncle, who just happened to be a crack dealer. Things got really bad at the uncle’s house. He was strung out most of the time, and some thugs moved in and took over his operation. Jenna spent a couple of years with these scumbags. When they didn’t have her locked up in a closet, they used her as their personal slave. Finally, the authorities got wind of the drug operation and moved in, but unfortunately, the leader of the gang was tipped off and got away before the raid. He took Jenna with him as a bargaining chip. That’s when Noah and your brother were called in. The guy had Jenna for over two months and kept moving around, so it was hard to catch him, but they finally tracked him down at an abandoned apartment building. I heard, when they got there, Jenna was pretty beat up and unable to say much.” He looked at Noah for verification.

Some of the anger that he had felt back then resurfaced, and Noah said, “She was scared out of her mind. She hung on to me for dear life, and all she could say was, ‘Don’t leave. Don’t leave.’ ”

Bryce looked at Jordan again and continued. “When Jenna was released from the hospital, Social Services stepped in, but Noah found her a home with a great family.”

“They were friends of mine,” Noah explained. “I knew she’d be in good hands. I just didn’t want to see her get caught up in the system after all she’d been through.”

“Well, from what I’ve heard, someone anonymous has paid her college tuition. And the rumors say it’s you.”

Noah didn’t respond to Bryce’s comment. “Jenna’s a great kid. She wants to become a teacher.”

“That was a fine thing you did,” Bryce said.

Noah dismissed the compliment with a shrug. “A lot of people would have done the same.”

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the pizzas. Jordan could only eat one slice, but as Bryce and Noah devoured the rest, they continued talking about the Dickey brothers.

Jordan sat back against the wooden bench and listened, but she wasn’t really hearing what the two men were saying. She was looking at Noah. She’d always known that he was dedicated to his work, and she had definitely seen the fun-loving side of him, but there obviously were things about him she didn’t know.

Noah finished his beer and ordered a bottle of water. She watched as he crossed his arms and leaned his elbows on the table, listening intently to Bryce’s suggestions about the investigation. He had the loveliest profile, she thought. And when he smiled…

Oh dear, she knew what was happening. Where was Kate when she needed her? On her honeymoon, of course. Kate could talk some sense into her, but she wasn’t here, and Jordan suddenly realized she was in big trouble. She was becoming a Noah Clayborne groupie.

She wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by him. To be touched…to hold on to…

“Jordan, are you ready?”

The question jarred her. “Ready for what?”

“To leave,” Noah said.

“Yes, of course. Bryce, it was a pleasure,” Jordan said, smiling. “I know you’re doing a lot of the legwork on your own time, and I want you to know how much I appreciate your help.”

“You’re very welcome, but you don’t have to thank me. You’re Nick’s sister.”

The three of them walked outside together. Bryce said goodbye at the door. “When’s the deadline again?”

Noah answered. “Tomorrow, noon. If I haven’t talked to both Dickey brothers by then, you take over.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Jordan was quiet on the ride back to the motel. A couple of times Noah glanced over at her and asked if she was okay.

“I’m fine,” she replied.

She wasn’t though. In

side, she was a colossal wreck. All Jordan could think about was Noah. She needed to get back on course. No more crazy thoughts about him. No more wondering what it would be like to sleep with him. Don’t go there, she told herself. But the more she warned herself not to obsess, the more she thought about him.

Yoga. That’s what she needed. When she got to the motel, she’d take a quick shower, put on her pajamas, then sit in the middle of the bed in the lotus position. She’d breathe deeply and clear her thoughts. And he would not intrude. She would be in charge of her thoughts, not him.

“What’s wrong with you?” Noah asked.

“Why do you think something’s wrong?”

He began to laugh. “You’re glaring at me, Sugar.”

She came up with a lame excuse and stared out the window the rest of the way to the motel.

She carried her tote bag into her room and stopped abruptly. The door into Noah’s room was open. Noah’s bed had been turned down, and there were chocolates on his pillow. Her bed hadn’t been touched.

She shook her head and laughed. “I’m surprised Amelia Ann isn’t in bed waiting for you.”

He smiled as he walked into his room. “She’s not my type.”

She wanted to ask him what his type was but resisted; instead, she grabbed her pajamas and headed into her bathroom.

She actually felt better, and her thoughts were less jumbled by the time she finished showering and washing her hair. She even took time to dry it.

While she was removing the bedspread, she saw Noah on his phone. Every now and then, she heard him laugh. She thought he might be talking to Nick. She’d just gotten settled on her bed with her stack of photocopies when Noah strolled into her room.

“Nick wants you to call him on his cell phone. Wait a couple of minutes though. He had Morganstern on the other line.” He handed her his phone. “I’m going to get in the shower. No matter what, do not open that door for anyone. Got it?”

“Yes.”

He’d already gone into his bathroom before she remembered to ask him if he’d told Nick about Lloyd. Of course he had. Still, he might have left the news for her to impart. She didn’t want Nick to come back to Serenity. If all went well, she’d be on her way back to Boston sometime tomorrow.

After she had organized the rest of her research copies, she dialed her brother. Nick picked up on the second ring.

He didn’t waste time on a greeting, but answered with, “Found another one, huh?”

JORDAN SAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE BED, READING YET ANOTHER chilling account of a terrible battle between the Buchanans and the MacKennas. Each clan had called up its allies and had gone to war in hopes of annihilating the other. She was so caught up in the story she didn’t notice Noah standing in the doorway watching.

Noah told himself to turn around and go back into his room, but he couldn’t make himself move. She drew him to her, and she didn’t realize it. He loved being near her, talking to her, listening to her crazy stories and theories, and he loved watching her smile. The most wondrous thing about her was her ability to make him laugh. No other woman made him feel the way she did.

She was damned pretty, he decided. Even when—like now—she was wearing glasses. He didn’t know why they were such a turn-on to him, but they were. If she had them on when he ran into her on Nathan’s Bay, he’d look over the top of her head so he wouldn’t be distracted. Once Dr. Morganstern had noticed what he was doing and had commented on it. Now Noah wondered if the doctor had known Noah was attracted to Jordan before he did.

When had she stopped being his partner’s kid sister and become the amazingly sexy woman he wanted to take to bed?

He knew what he was going to do before he took one step into her room. He didn’t give a damn about the repercussions. He barely made a sound as he walked to her bed, placed his gun and holster on the side table, and sat next to her.

Jordan glanced over and smiled. He looked relaxed in his worn-out Levi’s and pale gray T-shirt. She watched him get settled. He put both pillows behind his neck and gave them a couple of whacks to get them just so. Yawning loudly, he stacked his hands on his chest and closed his eyes.

“Comfy?” she asked.

He didn’t open his eyes. “Read me a bedtime story.”

“This story is pretty brutal.”

“I like brutal.”

“No surprise there,” she teased. “The date’s iffy, but this war supposedly took place sometime between 1300 and 1340. The MacKenna laird claimed the Buchanans had stolen another treasure from them. This treasure was a piece of land near the MacKenna holding that the laird believed should have been given to him.”

“Who gave the land to the Buchanans?”

Jordan shook her head. “It doesn’t say. The MacKenna laird stewed about this atrocity for months and months. Then, one afternoon in the early fall, a young Buchanan was captured on their land.

“The MacKenna laird decided to hold the boy for ransom. If the Buchanans gave up the slice of land, he’d return the boy. That was the plan, anyway, until some of the MacKenna warriors, in their enthusiasm, accidentally killed the boy. That’s how it was written,” she said. “They meant to torture him, but had wanted to keep him alive.”

“Did the Buchanans agree to give the land back before the boy was killed?”

“They didn’t have time to agree or disagree. When they heard one of their young was murdered, they gathered their forces and went to war. They were always fighting with the MacKennas, but this was different. The MacKenna laird knew he was in for it, and he called up all of his allies. It doesn’t give the number of clans, but three are named.”

“What about the Buchanans?”

She scanned down the page in front of her. “They called up one ally. I’m not sure if it was because they only had one ally or because they only needed the one. The MacHughs. The name alone sent terror through the MacKenna clan. The MacHughs were thought to be inhuman and indestructible. They were much more ruthless than the Buchanans, or so it says.

“The battle took place on a field near Hunter Point. The Buchanans and the MacHughs were hopelessly outnumbered, and the MacKennas foolishly believed they would make quick work of slaughtering the entire two clans.”

Jordan’s back ached. She fell back and rested on Noah’s shoulder. She held the paper up and continued on.

“The MacKennas and their allies were sadly mistaken about the odds being in their favor. The MacHugh clan didn’t believe in showing any mercy. After all, the MacKennas had butchered a child. Nor did the Buchanans show mercy,” she added. “When it was finished, there were body parts strewn over the field; the ground itself was covered in blood. To this day, the area is called Blood Field.”

“What happened to the MacKennas then?” he asked.

“What was left of the clan fled,” she said. “They returned to the field the next day to collect their dead and give them a proper warrior’s burial, but there weren’t any bodies to collect. They were all gone. And therefore there could be no sacred warrior burial ceremony.”

“Did they ever find them?”

“No,” she replied. She leaned up on an elbow and looked into his eyes. “And back then, if a warrior wasn’t given a proper send-off, he couldn’t go to the hereafter. He would be condemned to roam in the ‘other world’ for eternity, forever alone and forgotten.”

“How many were killed? Does it say?”

“No,” she answered. “But if any of this story is true, can you imagine what it would have been like to walk around the field…a field soaked with blood, picking up body parts? An arm here, a leg there…”

“A head…”

She grimaced. “I’m glad I didn’t live back then.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “There could be a couple of benefits. No reading scumbags their Miranda rights or having to watch a judge let them go on a technicality. Back then, if you knew someone was guilty, you got rid of them. Simple as that. You know what else? If the story has a thre

ad of truth in it, I don’t care how many warriors were killed on that battlefield. There isn’t a number high enough to justify killing one child.”

His eyes were still closed, so it was okay for her to stare at him. He wouldn’t notice. He was so sexy, so rugged. She forced herself to look away. This could go nowhere, she told herself. But she wanted him. He’d break her heart and leave her devastated, she warned. No thank you.

She was no groupie. No, she absolutely was not. Truth was, she’d gone way past that stage. She was falling in love.

Suddenly in a panic, she quickly swung her legs over the side of the bed, gathered up the papers, and took them to the table. She stacked them next to her satchel and then walked back to the bed. “Noah?” she whispered as she poked him in the shoulder. “Don’t you fall asleep on me.” He didn’t respond. She poked him again. “I want to go to bed.”

She was about to give him a harder poke when he reached up and grabbed her wrist. Before she could respond, he pulled her down on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled her onto her back. His knee nudged her legs apart, and he stretched out between her thighs, bracing himself on his elbows as he looked down at her flushed face.

Her heart raced. She went completely still and waited to see what he’d do. Don’t let go, she frantically thought. “Don’t let go.”

“I won’t, Sugar.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. “I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

He gently removed her glasses, and his hard chest rubbed against her breasts as he leaned over to put them on the table next to his gun. When he began to nuzzle the side of her neck, shivers cascaded down her arms and legs. His breath was sweet and warm against her skin, and when he tugged on her earlobe, she felt a jolt of longing all the way down to her toes.

“This is a bad idea,” she whispered as she tilted her head so he could have better access. She reached up, caressed the back of his neck, and tugged on his hair. She wanted him to kiss her on her mouth.

He lifted up. “Want me to stop?”

She pretended to give the matter her utmost attention. “No.” Jordan reached up and kissed his chin. “I was just saying it’s a bad idea.”


Tags: Julie Garwood Buchanan-Renard Romance
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