We pulled into Slick Willy’s parking lot at ten. There were several more cars tonight, but nowhere near as many as there’d be on the weekend. I couldn’t help thinking it would be better to wait until tomorrow night, when we could get lost in the Friday night crowd, but who was I kidding? Jed drew attention from the guys due to his size and attention from the women for both his size and good looks. Besides, the years hadn’t changed me nearly as much as they’d changed Stella. I looked pretty much the same, only I had a little more weight on me and probably looked less dead in the eyes. We’d draw attention no matter when we showed up. Besides, the sooner I did this, the sooner I could leave my past where it belonged and, hopefully, move on with my life.

Jed seemed nervous, and I couldn’t say I blamed him after my behavior the night before.

“Jed . . . about my freak-out last night.” Lordy, that seemed at least a week ago. “I know I already said it, but I’m sorry.”

He snagged my hand. “Don’t apologize. You’re working through a mountain of shit. My job is to be here every step of the way and support you.”

I turned to stare into his face. Several days ago, I would have taken his statement to mean he was following Skeeter’s orders. Now I knew he was doing it because he cared about me, although I still didn’t understand why. But he’d been helping me for months, and I was finally starting to understand how deep this went for him.

He started to let go and open his car door, but I tugged him back.

“Wait.” I scrambled to figure out how to bring this up. “When I asked Skeeter to help me look for Ronnie a few months ago, you told me you were there for me. You said you wanted to help me for me, not because of Rose. Was that when you first started having feelings for me?”

He gave me a hesitant look. “No.”

“When?”

He grimaced, clearly uncomfortable. I knew I should let it drop, but now that I’d had the nerve to bring it up, I wanted an answer.

“Honestly,” he said, “it snuck up on me, but it probably started last winter, when Rose arranged to meet Mick Gentry without Skeeter. You insisted on coming as backup. I figured you’d be a waste of time—and worse, a liability—but you more than proved yourself.”

“Really? I had no idea,” I said in surprise. “You only seemed annoyed.”

“I was annoyed, but more at myself than you. You didn’t know, and I wanted to keep it that way. You were still married. But when you showed up to Skeeter’s office a few months ago, asking him to help you search for the fool, I couldn’t stand seeing you so upset. So I overstepped my bounds.” A sly grin spread across his face. “But I’m not sorry I did. I was sure that was why you called me a couple of nights later.”

I hung my head in embarrassment. Rose had gone to Houston to donate her bone marrow for her sister’s transplant. I was pissed at the world and lonely without her, so I’d gone to a bar outside of town with the sole purpose of hooking up with a man. Finding someone was easy, but I changed my mind pretty much as soon as we got to his apartment. Things went south right quick, and I locked myself in the bathroom and called Jed.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” he said. “The guy from the bar . . . why didn’t you just beat the crap out of him?” He held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t get me wrong, I thoroughly enjoyed beating the shit out of him myself, but you’ve proven multiple times that you can take down a man . . .” His voice trailed off.

“So why didn’t I?” I finished.

“No judgment, Neely Kate. I need to make that perfectly clear.”

I nodded. It was a fair question. “When I came back home to my granny five years ago, I was a hot mess. I huddled in my room for days, crying off and on and refusing to leave the house. But then a week later, my cousin Witt busted in and told me Rivers kids didn’t mope and he and my cousin Alan Jackson were going to teach me how to shoot a gun. They gave me my grandfather’s six-shooter, and it turned out I was pretty good at it.” I looked up at Jed and saw his grin.

“I’ll say.” He’d seen me shoot targets a couple of weeks ago after Skeeter told him to take Rose for target practice.

“Now, I hadn’t said a word about what had happened to me, but somehow Witt seemed to know what I needed. He never asked questions, and I never offered answers, but after I learned to shoot better than him and Alan Jackson, he suggested I learn some self-defense moves next.”

“So Merv has Witt to thank for his busted nose.”

I lifted my shoulder into a shrug and grinned. “Rivers kids are scrappy. After I ended up breaking a few of their bones, they ended the self-defense lessons.”

“So what happened with that guy from the bar this spring?”

“I thought I’d built this perfect life with Ronnie, the one I’d always wanted—a husband, a house, babies . . . only, being married to Ronnie wasn’t what I wanted after all and I was just plain stuck. He was a good man—or at least I used to think so—and I’d pretty much roped him into the whole thing, so it wasn’t like I could say, ‘Oops, I changed my mind.’ Besides, by then I knew I was pregnant. And then I lost the babies. And Ronnie took off, not that I necessarily wanted him to stay, but it was just another rejection. My body rejected my babies, and then Ronnie ran off after he found out my body had been full of STDs . . . even though the doctor assured him that they’d all been cured. After they’d destroyed me. But the clincher was Joe. When I found out he was my half brother and then he left town first chance he got without one word . . . it was all too much. I felt like that girl again, that stupid girl who’d fallen for Branson’s lies, hook, line, and sinker.” I hung my head in shame. “I felt so rejected, so worthless, I just needed a man to think I was pretty.”

“I wish I’d realized that,” Jed said quietly. “I would have made more of an effort.”

I shook my head. “No. The thought of you being interested in me scared the bejiggers out of me. I wasn’t ready. But I wasn’t ready to hook up with some random stranger either. Once he got me back to his apartment, everything with Branson came rushing back, and I suddenly lost every bit of self-confidence I’d gained over the past five years. I became that scared, stupid girl again, not the strong, kick-ass woman I’d worked hard to become.”

I looked into his eyes. “I was scared and humiliated, so I called the person I thought would help me without judgment. You’d made your offer a couple of days before, and I knew you’d gotten Rose out of some tough situations. Calling you was the right thing to do, but I was still embarrassed.” I paused. “And then you insisted on sleeping on my sofa to make sure I was okay.” I squeezed his hand. “You have no idea how much that meant to me. When I woke up, I was so angry. I was angry at myself for getting into that situation and not fighting back. I was pissed at that guy for thinking he had a right to sex just because he’d bought me a few drinks. And I was mad at you for being so perfect because I knew you deserved someone less broken and used-up than me.”

“Neely Kate.”

“So I lashed out at you. Again and again. Even as I was doin’ it, I knew it wasn’t the right thing. It made me feel worse. Not only had I reverted back to that stupid girl, but I’d been ugly to the one man who was willin’ to help me for no ulterior motive.” I looked up at him. “I’m sorry for that too.”

He shook his head, giving me a sad smile. “Have you ever thought that the reason we might work together is because we’re both screwed up?”

I laughed. “You like me because I’m a mess?”

He grinned. “I wouldn’t put it that way . . . but we just seem to fit, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “We do.”

He turned to study the outside of the strip club for nearly half a minute before he asked, “Do you think Branson was the man who showed up at Zelda’s looking for you?”

“No. Zelda has seen Branson plenty of times. She would remember him.”

“So we know some mysterious man is looking for you, and we know that Stella and Branson have been working together to turn Beasley against you. The question is why. Do you know?”

“I don’t know for certain, but I will after I talk to Carla.”

“But it’s a fair assumption that you could be in danger. Agreed?”

I hesitated.

“Let me rephrase that,” he said in a no-nonsense tone. “I know you’re in danger. I’m making sure you’re on the same page.”

“I guess.”

“And while we both know you can handle yourself and take on any asshole who comes at you, we also both know I’ve had far more experience dealing with situations like this. Also agreed?”

“I guess,” I reluctantly conceded.

His mouth tipped into a hint of a grin, a fleeting expression that quickly faded. “Then I’m asking you to let me take the lead on this tonight. You can be in charge of talking to Carla or whoever you want, but let me be in charge of making sure you’re safe.” He squeezed my hand. “Please.”

He was right. He was more experienced with this kind of thing, but he’d proven he knew when to hang back. Before stepping in with Beasley, he’d let me question him—even though he must have been itching something fierce to take control. “Okay.”

Relief filled his eyes. “Thank you.”

I took a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with.”

We got out and walked across the parking lot, Jed’s possessive arm around my lower back. He paid the cover charge this time and headed straight toward an empty table in the back corner. Again, I caught some attention, but Jed held on tight, making sure every pair of eyes that landed on me knew they’d face his wrath if they dared to hit on me.

He held out a chair for me, and while he was being his gentlemanly self, I also knew he was placing me exactly where he wanted me—in the deepest shadows while he was more in the light.

There was a dancer on the stage and two girls working the crowd, but I didn’t recognize any of them.

Jed rested his forearm on the sticky table and turned his attention to the stage, but I knew he wasn’t watching the dancer swing around the pole. He had chosen this table purposefully—it gave him a perfect vantage point to assess the room around us. He could see a threat as soon as it walked in the door. He could see anyone who approached us. He could see who was on stage, who was behind the bar, and every hostess working the room.

I took note of this for my own future reference. My own surveillance skills needed some brushing up.

A few minutes later, one of the hostesses walked over to our table, wearing nothing but pasties and a G-string along with four-inch stilettos. She stopped in front of our table and popped her hip out to the side. “Hi, I’m Destiny, and I’m your hostess for the evening. What can I do for you two? Drinks? A private room?” She gave Jed a sultry look. “I can do girl on girl if that’s your thing.”

My face burned, but the shadows hid my embarrassment. I couldn’t help but remember what it felt like to work here, to say tawdry things to complete strangers. Was Jed imagining me in this hostess’s place?

He slid his hand off the table and picked mine up and held it on top of the table. “I’ll take a beer. Whatever’s on special.” He turned to me. “Honey?”

I nearly startled at his term of endearment, but then I realized my name was much too uncommon to go unnoticed. “A bottle of water.”

Destiny grabbed a strand of her hair and began to play with it. “What else, sugar? You can get a beer down the street.”

“Do you know if Carla’s here?” he asked.

She frowned. “She’ll be here in another half hour. But I’ll be more than happy to take care of you.”

“That’s enough for now,” Jed said.

She walked off, looking disappointed, and I understood how she felt. I’d dealt with plenty of older, unattractive guys while working here, so I knew how much she must appreciate having a good-looking man in her section. But she must still be fairly new because the good-looking ones were often the worst.

I tried to pull my hand free, but Jed held on.

“We could leave and come back, but I think it would look suspicious. It would probably be better to sit here and wait. Are you okay with that?”

I knew he didn’t like being in this dump any more than I did. “Whatever you think is best.”

A huge grin spread across his face. “I’m goin’ to remember this moment because I have a feeling it will be one of the only times I’ll hear those words coming from your lips.”

I laughed because he was right, and we both knew it.

Destiny brought our drinks, and Jed handed her a hundred-dollar bill and told her to start a tab. When she left, he picked up my water and examined it before unscrewing the cap and handing it to me.

So he knew why I’d ordered bottled water, not that I was surprised.

We sat there for a half hour. Jed ordered another beer, but he nursed the second, taking everything in.

Finally, I leaned over and whispered in his ear, “What are you looking for?”

“Patterns.”

“What kind of patterns?”

“How the waitresses work the room. Who’s asking for drinks, how many and what kind. Who’s asking for lap dances. Who’s leaving the room—where are they going; how long are they gone; who are they with? Which of the girls get the most attention, and how do the other girls deal with it.”

I leaned back and stared at him in surprise. “Why? We’re just here to talk to Carla.”

“What if you talk to Carla and things go sideways? I’ll know the expected behaviors of the people in the room. Besides, I don’t know exactly what I’m dealing with here, so I want to know as much as I can.”

That was my fault. I should have told him the rest. “The threat’s not in this room, Jed.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

I hesitated, then asked, “Will you teach me?”

He gave me a questioning look. “Teach you what?”

“How you take note of things like that. I’m trying to convince Rose that we’re good at snoopin’ things out, and we should become investigators.”

“Like you did with the necklace.”

“And lookin’ for my missing cousin.”

“And the money stolen from Rose in that bank robbery last fall,” he said, turning more sober.

That was how Rose had first gotten tangled up with Skeeter. “Yeah.”

He studied my face. “You really want to be a PI? For a job?”

“Yeah.”

“NK, I’ll help you with anything you need.”

“Really?”

“Why wouldn’t I? I’ve seen you and Rose investigate things in the past, and then you today . . . you’ve done really well in spite of all the emotional crap you’ve been through. I think you’d be great at it.”

I nearly burst with happiness, barely believing what I’d just heard. I always had to convince Rose to investigate cases. Jed was the first person to believe I could actually do it for real.

Another half hour passed, and Jed asked Destiny about Carla again. She told him that she was running late but she was coming.

When she left, he turned to me, his face expressionless. I’d come to realize this was his game face. He expected trouble. “I don’t see any sign of Stan. Do you know anyone else who’s working tonight? Anyone who might recognize you?”

“No.”

“And was this common for Carla? Did she often run late?”

“I only worked with her for a few weeks, Jed. She was new, so she was on her best behavior.”

“How important is it for you to talk to her?”

“I think she might know what happened with Branson after . . . I left.”

“Why?”

“Because he had started showin’ an interest in her, and she was holding him at bay, especially since she knew I was in such dire straits with him. Not to mention she was letting me use her car and he found out.” But mostly I needed to know what she knew about my meeting that night. As far as I knew, only Branson and Beasley knew the identity of the man who’d wanted to buy me. Stella had known a few details—I’d told her about the waiver and my suspicions about kinky torture—but no specifics. Branson could have told her later, of course, but I suspected he’d kept quiet. It was common knowledge she couldn’t keep a secret . . . although she’d done a good job of keeping the fact that Branson was alive and well from me—and not dead and buried by an oil well.

Branson had brought me to the house that awful night, and Beasley was the one who’d set up the logistics. They were the only two who could link me to that man by name and location, and I needed to make sure it had stayed that way.

The dancer left the stage—one of the women who’d been hostessing when we first walked in—and the bartender announced Carla.

She slunk out, looking just like I remembered her, which made me unbelievably sad. I’d escaped this life, but she was still stuck in the thick of it. I was relieved she still had the same quiet dignity to her. Looking back now, I understood why Stella had practically hated her on sight.

Carla was wearing a few scarves and began her slow striptease. She was gorgeous and knew how to work the crowd. The belly dancing was a new act for her—well, new since I’d last seen her—but she could move her hips in ways I’d never even dreamed of. She had the full attention of the room, every eye on her, with the exception of Jed, who was watching me with concern.

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

Carla danced for the next ten minutes, making more money than the other dancers before her. Destiny came around again at the end of the show. “Are you sure you don’t want me, sugar? Carla charges a lot more. Or . . .” I could tell she was thinking fast. “You can have both of us together. How’s that? We can find something else for your girlfriend to do while Carla and I take care of you in the back.”

He pointed a finger toward the stage. “I want to see her. Just her. Out here.”

Destiny made an exaggerated pouty face.

Jed slid her a twenty-dollar bill. “For your trouble. Tell her I’ll make it worth her while.”

That appeased her. She took the money and suggestively tucked it down the front of her low-cut G-string before moving on to the next table.

I leaned closer to Jed. “You want to question her here?”

He leaned closer so that his mouth was next to my ear. “Do they have private rooms?”

“Yeah.”

He turned back to watch the people around us. “When she comes by, we’ll see if she’s agreeable to going to a private room to chat. You’re sure no one’s recognized you?”

“I don’t see anyone else I know, customers included.”

About five minutes later, Carla emerged from the door to the backstage, her gaze immediately landing on our corner table.

Jed’s expression and posture didn’t change, but he cast a glance at her as she approached. Then his eyes panned across the rest of the room—it was subtle, but I’d watched him do it all night.

She glanced over her shoulder before turning toward Jed. “I hear you were askin’ for me. What can I do for you?” Her gaze traveled over his body, and I was surprised at the spark of jealousy burning through my veins. The feeling had caught me off guard, but I could still tell she was acting strangely.

Her gaze drifted to me. She looked afraid but not surprised. “Kitty.”

“Hey, Carla.”

“You need to leave.”

Jed tensed. “Why?”

She moved closer to the table, leaning forward so that her boobs were right in front of me. While it might look like a seduction technique to anyone watching us, it was obvious she was trying to cover for what she was about to say. “He’s lookin’ for you, Kitty.”

“Who?” I asked, afraid to hear the answer. Knowing it anyway.

“Branson.”