Free Criminal Instinct by Kelly Lynn Parra Page A

He’d been intimate with them—” She cut herself off, then waved a hand as if dismissing him from her mind. “Enough about him. What about Skates? Is he okay?”
    She didn’t know. That was the problem.
    I can’t go back to a cage, Ana. I can’t. I’ll die in there.
    She had to believe Skates’s words were just what they were—words, said while feeling the effects of the high. He’d be okay. He wouldn’t get himself caught in that dealer’s dirty fingers again. Right?
    “Ana?”
    “Um, yeah. I’m sure he’s fine.”
    Digit’s cell went off. “Firehouse.” She slipped the cell phone out of her purse and read the message. Then she pulled out a palm planner. The woman never failed to write anything down.
    “Okay, top floor first sounds good,” she said, squiggling notes onto the tiny screen. “I’m to report to the firehouse ASAP after we’re done. Sarge needs me for a computer search regarding Tyler.”
    “What’s he got?”
    “He didn’t say.” She snapped the palm planner closed. “You know Sarge, a man of few words. If I spot Brooks, I’ll still move in. Saven’s all yours.”
    “How did I get so lucky?”
    Digit searched her face. “Problem?”
    “Just trying to figure out my strategy.”
    Digit smiled, her eyes brightening. “The hell with strategy. Strut your stuff on the dance floor and believe me, he’ll find you.”
     
    “Jonas, what are your plans tonight?”
    Jonas shifted his attention to the brunette pressed next to him. Classic beauty. Tasteful makeup. A long slim body with a great set of breasts. A shame she hadn’t been born with them.
    The brunette smiled. “I’m free.”
    “Busy opening night, Cynthia. I’ll be tucking myself in early. Alone.”
    “Hmm. Too bad.” She leaned in close to his ear and whispered exactly what he would be missing.
    His lips curved. “I’m sure I’ll regret it. Have a good night.” He kissed her cheek and walked away scanning the crowd.
    A profitable turnout. They’d nearly hit their body limit, with a line still outside the door. Too soon to tell how well the club would fare. Nightclubs constantly opened, closed, and changed their names in the city. Some didn’t last more than a year. Jonas planned to make this club last.
    A mixture of hip-hop and techno played throughout the club. The dance floor was packed, the bar filled.
    Which left him with one slight problem. How would he find one little thief in a dim mass of constantly moving bodies? Ticked him off he hadn’t caught her name.
    Having a talk with his doorman and giving her description was the best he could do. Odds were good that she’d show. He made his warning clear: he’d go looking for the kid if he didn’t get back what was his. If she cared enough to help her friend by standing up to two pieces of scum, then she’d show up with the wallet.
    If she was one of Dolini’s regular customers, she might know about that dealer’s Ecstasy trafficking. He’d probe her for information. Wouldn’t be difficult to turn up the charm to get answers. She was attractive. The attitude she dished out could be overlooked for now.
    Jonas turned and noticed a problem.
    A crowd had formed in the center of the dance floor. Not good. Incidents tended to get out of hand in a room this packed.
    He grabbed his two-way phone and pressed the code for Joseph, one of the bouncers.
    “Joe here,” came through the reply.
    “Problem on dance floor one. Watch my back.”
    “Yes, Mr. Saven.”
    Jonas hooked the phone on his belt, then pushed through tangled warm bodies and proceeded to the middle of the floor.
    Reaching the center, he stopped short.
    It was her .
    No one would mistake the thief for an adolescent tonight.
    A very short, long-sleeved black dress contoured her nicely curved bottom, revealing toned, smooth legs. Calf-high boots pumped up her height two inches. Hips swaying sensually, she danced too damn close with some slick idiot—a Don Juan with his shirt open and gold chains