In her closet, she drew a short black sequined dress from the hanger and slid it on. She hadn't worn this in over two years, but it still fit perfectly. Stilettos and darker evening makeup completed the outfit. Though she was in danger and might be certifiably insane for approaching Nick, a little thrill spiraled through her. She had never done anything this risky before.
Carrying an overnight bag, she rushed out to her car and took off. What would Nick say when she showed up? She needed his help, but she couldn't deny she was excited about the prospect of seeing him again.
After driving around Savannah for fifteen minutes to make sure no one was following her, she headed toward Atlanta.
* * * *
"Give it up, Rathburn. You've got no chance with her," Kurt muttered loudly over the pounding rock music and turned up his beer bottle to drain it. Kurt, the lead singer in the rock band Nick was using for a cover, was a fairly decent guy, but Rathburn, the guitar player, was nothing but a criminal.
Nick glanced across Rebel's crowded dance floor to see who Rathburn was harassing now. People moved in and out of his line of vision. He squinted through the dimness at the female in question.
Emily?
"What the hell?" Nick stood, almost flipping over his chair.
"What is it, man?"
I don't believe this. He strode toward Rathburn and the woman he had cornered. A blonde who looked a hell of a lot like Emily, but with heavier makeup and a slinky, low cut, very short sparkly black dress. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him.
But the closer he got, the more his stomach knotted. How had she found him? And what was she doing here, dressed like that? Was she living a double life?
"Em?" He stopped beside Rathburn who resembled the grim reaper with his long black hair and black clothing.
Emily's face lit up. "I was looking for you!"
The other man sent him an evil-eyed glare. "Back off, Worth. I saw her first."
"You heard her. She's looking for me." Nick took her hand and tugged her away from Rathburn and toward the bar.
Rathburn would hold a grudge over this one, but it couldn't be helped. Nick had never been able to get along with the bastard anyway.
"I need to talk to you in private," Emily said.
"Let me buy you a drink, sweet cheeks."
She frowned. "I don't want a drink. I want—"
"Wait a sec, okay?" he said close to her ear in a more serious tone. Dammit, didn't she realize she'd walked into a snake den? And now he had to protect her and try to figure out how to get her out of here ASAP while maintaining his cover persona. Rushing her out like he wanted would come across as suspicious behavior for him.
"How about a margarita?" he asked.
She nodded. Why did she always have to appear so sweet and innocent, even with that heavy makeup? Maybe because he was used to hanging around women who were far more jaded.
He gave the bartender their order, scanned his surroundings, then faced her again. No one stood close enough to hear what they said if they kept their voices down. Besides, the loud music covered most other sounds.
He lifted Emily to a barstool. Her eyes widened. He leaned in close and spoke into her ear so no one would read his lips. "Don't look so shocked. What are you doing here and how the hell did you find me?"
He moved his head so she could talk into his ear.
"You mentioned Rebel's when you spoke to someone on your phone in my living room. I looked it up and found this place."
"Damn." She'd heard him? He'd been careless.
"Some maniac broke into my house and searched it tonight, but nothing was missing."
He muttered a curse, rage and concern for her safety burning through him. "Why didn't you call me?"
"I tried, but you wouldn't answer and your voicemail box is full. Why don't you ever clean it out?"
He felt like kicking himself. "I'm sorry." When he was undercover, it was dangerous to take calls and he'd had no time today to check his voicemail. "What happened? I want details."
"After the police left, this creepy guy called and asked, 'Where is it?' He told me the name of the thing he wants, but it was a foreign language. I couldn't understand the words. He said if I didn't give it to him, I'd regret it. But I have no idea what he's talking about."
"I knew it." So Jared's murderer was coming out of hiding, finally. Just the break he was waiting for. He only wished she'd caught the name of the object the bastard was looking for.
Most of all, it pissed him off that the psycho had threatened Emily.
After retrieving their drinks from the bartender and paying, he took a sip of beer and gave their surroundings a quick perusal. No one appeared inordinately interested in them, but the place had hidden cameras. The drug dealer he was investigating owned the bar and no doubt watched everyone via the cameras, especially people like Nick who was trying to get deeper into his organization.