“I guess so.”
He couldn’t fathom why Ballard’s death seemed not to have made a dent in her. And he didn’t see one cop car or one bit of police tape. Weren’t they investigating the man’s murder? What the hell was going on?
The gates opened as they approached. A guard came out, and when he saw Davis he motioned for Rogers to drive through.
Rogers didn’t look at the security guards as he passed by, though he noted in his peripheral vision that they were scrutinizing him.
Davis directed him where to park. She opened the door.
“Can I pay you for taking me all this way?”
“I think you already paid me more than I deserved.”
She smiled. “That was a nice thing to say. You want to come in?”
The panic returned. “No. I better get back. But thanks.”
“Okay, I’ll see you at the Grunt, I’m sure.”
“You better let Mr. Quentin know you got home
safe.”
“Like he cares,” she scoffed. She leaned across the seat and placed a firm kiss on his mouth and then inserted her tongue into it.
Rogers had the impression that multiple eyes were watching this. Still her lips felt sweet and salty and seemed to perfectly mesh with his.
The next moment the car door closed and she disappeared inside.
That’s when Rogers heard the knock on the glass.
He turned to see one of the security team there.
“You got a minute, sir?” the man asked crisply, the expression on his face unreadable. He motioned for Rogers to get out of the van.
When Rogers looked around he saw five more men all carrying MP5s along with serious expressions. They had surrounded the van in the few seconds between the kiss and Davis going inside. That was impressive, he thought.
He wondered if what was going to come next would be equally so.
Rogers opened the door and stepped out.
Chapter
41
ROGERS FACED THE man who had requested his exit from the van.
“Can I see some ID?”
Rogers shook his head. “Not unless you’re cops.”
The man tapped his finger against the barrel of his MP5. “How did you end up with Ms. Davis?”
Rogers managed a smile as the men closed ranks around him. “I drove the lady home at the request of Josh Quentin. You can call him and check. He’ll vouch for me. The name is Paul.”
The man said, “Who are you?”
“I just told you. Paul.”
“Paul what?”
“I’m the bouncer at the Grunt. Mr. Quentin and Ms. Davis were there last night. Ms. Davis became…ill. Mr. Quentin had to leave and he asked me to drive her home. And I did. Safe and sound.”
“The Grunt closes at two. It’s a two-hour drive from there to here. It’s eight o’clock in the morning. What happened to the other four hours?”
“We didn’t leave right at two. She was still indisposed. We left around four. And we stopped for breakfast at the IHOP, at her request. We took our time. She seemed to be in no rush. And I’d worked all night. I was tired, so I wasn’t trying to break any land speed records.”
He pointed toward the door Davis had entered. “Just ask her if you don’t believe me.”
“What’s going on?”
They all turned to see Davis’s head poking out of what Rogers knew was her bedroom window.
He didn’t hear the water stop next door.
Or hear a hair dryer start up.
He just sat in the chair and stared out the window at a man who should by all rights be dead.
He did hear the knock on the door a few minutes later.
He turned toward it as the door opened.