Page 67 of Knox
“Yeah. Doesn’t that feel weird to you? I mean, the clowns I worked with were straight-up, honest guys. Sure, they liked the adrenaline, but they were about saving lives. That’s whyIdid it those few times.”
Tate lifted a shoulder. “I dunno.” He took a step closer to the grid. “How do you know these guys were with him?”
“An investigator from San Antonio asked me if I’d ever see Arnie before—showed me a picture, and these two guys were standing beside him.”
Tate considered Knox. His brother wasn’t the conspiracy theory type, but this felt a little reaching. Still, “What does this have to do with Kelsey?”
“Are either of these guys Vince Russell?”
Tate took another look. “No. I don’t think so, but…I don’t know. All I have are old news clippings. I need a real picture.”
“Okay,” Knox said. “Do you really think Russell poses a current threat to Kelsey?”
Tate lifted a shoulder.
“What can I do to help?”
Tate blinked. “Really?”
“I’m not going to have Kelsey spending her life looking over her shoulder.” His face tightened. “And frankly, I’d like to have a few words with this guy.”
“Knox—”
He held up a hand. “Calm down. Maybe he falls down the stairs or something.”
Tate drew in a breath, tightened his jaw. “You let me do the talking, bro. This is my wheelhouse.” Then he turned toward the door. “We leave for New York first thing in the morning.”
“No,” Knox said, reaching into the closet for his duffel. “We leave in fifteen minutes. Right after I call in a few favors.”
Seriously? But Tate nodded. Stopped with his hand on the door. “I’m sorry I jumped on you tonight, bro. I just thought—”
“There’s nothing going on between you and Kelsey, right?”
Tate turned, and Knox couldn’t hide the question—no, the past—haunting his expression.
Oh. Right. Chelsea. “No, bro. She’s just a client.”
Knox raised an eyebrow. “Like Glo?”
Tate sighed. “No. Glo is… Glo is trouble.”
Knox smiled. “I know the feeling.”
Tate grinned back. “Fifteen.” Then he walked out the door.
She’d slept the entire night through.
In fact, she’d slept so hard, lines etched her face, the morning sun high enough to find her eyes, burn them open.
Glo was scrolling through her phone on the other bed. “You’re not going to believe this, but we had fans last night at the Bulldog. At least three people posted on Instagram. And one of those pictures is you and Knox.” She held the phone up to Kelsey.
They were on the dance floor, her arms up around Knox’s shoulders, and the look on her face… She heated all the way through.
“Yeah, I’ll bet that was right before he kissed you. Because no guy in his right mind would be able to walk away from that come-hither look.”
“What— Glo!” Kelsey grabbed a pillow and shot it at Glo, who ducked. The pillow hit the wall, fell in a heap.
“I’m just saying that maybe there’s a reason you’re not downstairs in the recliner, all knotted up like a pretzel this morning. Sweet dreams?”