“If both of you are there, I’ll be safe,” April said. “I spread the word I can be bought and we see who offers to pay me.”
Jonah thought of his dead partner, Jenny Stevens. She’d thought she would be safe with him, too.
“We’ve got to do something, Jonah,” April said. “This could work.”
He clenched his jaw. He didn’t like it. But they needed to take the fight to whoever was involved in this before something else happened. Something that might prove fatal.
He blew out a long breath, raked back his hair. “Fine, but you and I go together and you stay close to me every second.”
“So you’d be my date?”
The ex-cop and the college girl. It seemed such a stretch something grim shifted inside him. “I know I’m not what you’re used to, but—”
April flashed him a brilliant white smile. “I’d love for you to be my date.”
Jonah blinked, tried to wrap his head around it. He shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. No way could that smile be anything but sincere. He wished he wasn’t so relieved.
He returned his attention to Chase. “Looks like I’m taking April into the wolf’s den—so to speak. Long as I can count on you for backup.”
“Not a problem.”
“You fit in with that crowd. No one will spot you as personal protection.”
Dealing with wealthy clients was Chase’s specialty. He was comfortable moving in upper-class circles. And it paid big money. His connections were part of the reason he was so successful.
“I’ll call Reggie Porter,” Chase said. “Ask him to drive you. He doubles as a bodyguard.”
“Reggie’s good. I’ve worked with him before.”
Jonah felt April’s gaze on his face. “You don’t think they’d actually try to kill me at the fund-raiser?”
“They’re more likely to agree to pay you,” he conceded, since the idea was, in fact, a good one. “Killing you would only make the cops more suspicious about what happened to Dean. But blackmail is dangerous. And anytime you’re setting a trap for a killer, things can go wrong.”
“Which,” Chase said, “considering what’s happened so far, is way more than a remote possibility.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
APRILDRESSEDWITHcare for the mayor’s black-tie fund-raiser. Choosing a long, off-the-shoulder chiffon gown in blush tones, she stood in front of the mirror admiring the way the fabric flowed over her curves, showing off her figure while still looking elegant and sophisticated.
As she walked, a split in the skirt allowed a glimpse of her legs. Strappy silver high heels peeped from beneath the hem.
If she managed to forget the task ahead of her, she was excited to be going. The posters she’d helped design would be plastered all over the ballroom. Her staff had been responsible for the decorations—with only a few frantic phone calls to her.
As the time for Jonah’s arrival drew near, her nerves crept up. He hadn’t spent any more nights in her town house. He was working the case, trying to dig up information, but he’d insisted a security guard be parked in front of the house round the clock.
Since she knew how to handle a pistol, he’d brought her a Colt .38 revolver for protection. April didn’t tell him David’s bloody murder was enough to last a lifetime—there was no way she was pulling the trigger.
At least not unless she had absolutely no choice.
Instead of a knock, the doorbell rang, setting the formal mood. April checked the peephole, saw Jonah on the porch and pulled the door open.
Oh, dear God.
Black leather suited him, but the man looked entirely edible in a gleaming black tuxedo. Her mouth went dry. Her attraction to this man was way over the top.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, sweeping her with those long-lashed, hot dark eyes. “You ready for this?”
“I’m ready. And you look pretty gorgeous yourself.”
