His eyes flared. “No f**king way.”
Alice frowned at him for the language. “I know, unbelievable, right?” For the next twenty minutes she relayed everything that had happened. She didn’t skip a single detail since, clearly, Rowdy had already spilled the beans.
With every word out of her mouth, Reese looked more livid.
Somehow, Alice had to make him understand. “Cheryl was not transporting drugs by choice. She’d moved to the area to be near a guy—I don’t know his name because she didn’t say. But the relationship, at least on his part, was just a ruse, a way to lure her in. He told her that if she loved him, she’d move the drugs for him.”
Though his gaze darkened, Reese stayed eerily silent.
“There are more, Reese. Cheryl said that Hickson—the creep I left bound in that disgusting motel—gets the girls tattooed. I don’t know who he works for, though. Cheryl did a lot of crying, and she kept worrying that I might be with some competing drug dealer or something, but I believe the girls are coerced, maybe even forced to transport drugs.” As Alice spoke, her temper rose again. “I’m certain they’re tattooing them against their will.”
Reese looked stunned by her deductions. Did he think she was too naive to piece it together? It didn’t take a genius—or a detective—to see the truth.
Thinking of how Cheryl had tried to scrub away the tattoo, Alice leaned in closer to Reese, anxious to help. “I remember the van that brought her to the mall parking lot. And the truck I followed, too. I didn’t think to memorize a license plate, darn it, but it occurs to me that they probably met at the mall because the tattoo parlor is nearby.”
Alarm had Reese’s shoulders going rigid. “Stop right there.”
Driven by new urgency, Alice tuned him out. “I could visit the area, maybe look around a little. I might see the van or truck again.”
“Alice—”
“Nothing dangerous this time,” she said with a flap of her hand. “I could just check out the locations of the local tattoo parlors.”
His hands locked onto the edge of the table. “No.”
“Maybe I could even stroll inside to see if anyone had a design like that and—”
He shoved back his chair. “No.”
“—because I might be able to match up the tattoo artist with the design.”
Eyes red and nostrils flared, Reese jerked to his feet and loomed over her.
His mood finally sank in, and Alice stared up at him, bemused. “You’re upset with me?”
He opened his mouth, closed it again. His jaw clenched. His big hard hands curled into fists.
“Reese?”
After running a hand over his head, he pointed at her and snarled—actually snarled, “I think you’re f**king wonderful, remember that.”
“Oh. Okay.” Fucking wonderful? What did that mean?
“But,” he said, his tone hard edged, “what you did today—not a year ago, Alice, but today—was as foolhardy as it gets.”
Fascinated, Alice watched him.
He dismissed her awful connection to a wretched human trafficker, but was outraged over her saving a single girl?
Knowing he didn’t blame her gave her new confidence. He was right that Murray would have replaced her. Without Reese, she never would have considered that.
But now, with Reese, she felt like she could actually deal with the past, possibly bury it once and for all, and make a difference in the future.
She smiled at him.
He didn’t smile back. The seconds passed in silence.
Pivoting away from her, Reese pulled out his cell phone.
A little deflated by that reaction, Alice waited as he punched in a single speed-dial number. She was somewhat curious who he’d call right now, but more wary than anything else.
“Logan?” Reese stared at her while he spoke into the phone. “I’ve got a problem.” His jaw ticked when he nodded. “Yes, Alice.”
Frowning, Alice straightened in her seat. So, now she was a problem? She had rescued a woman. Why couldn’t he see past everything else to what good had been done?
Reese held her gaze. “We need to bring her in for questioning.” He nodded. “I know.”
For questioning? To a police station? Oh, but...
“Peterson should be there.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Rowdy, too. Yeah, he stepped in it while chasing after her. I can explain everything in more detail tomorrow. No, I won’t.” His attention all but pinned her in place. “She won’t be out of my sight.”
So...did that mean he’d be spending the night with her again? Given his current mood, he might want to sleep on the couch. She hoped not. She wanted him back in her bed.
She wanted him again—period.
* * *
“ONE LAST THING.” Reese walked over to her, put two fingers under her chin and lifted her face. “We have a vigilante running around.”
Uh-oh. Alice tried to shake her head, to caution him against sharing that, but Reese held her chin.
“He carries a lot of clout, had cooperation from the law and apparently he’s good enough to kill Alice’s kidnapper without anyone knowing who he is.”
Oh, no. Alice’s heart sank. She couldn’t let this happen, couldn’t let someone else take the blame for what had occurred that day.
Her rescuer hadn’t killed her kidnapper.
Alice had taken care of that herself.