“I didn’t mean to upset you,” Alena said.
“No, no, I’m all right. I just wish these people would be caught,” Zyah said. “I don’t understand why they went back to my grandmother’s home. She never was one for jewelry. She loved to dance. Belly dance. It’s part of the culture—in our family, I mean—so we have a few bracelets and anklets, but they aren’t worth anything monetarily.”
Player kept his arm around her, holding her in close to his body as they made their way to Anat’s table, where Blythe and Lana talked animatedly with her. Zyah looked at Anat’s hands. She never wore bracelets or bangles. She didn’t wear earrings either. She always said Horus preferred her not to, so she didn’t. Now that Zyah thought about it, Horus actually had jewelry and Anat didn’t. Horus gave her beautiful things he created with his two hands, and she treasured them, but he didn’t give her jewels. So what did the thieves think Anat had?
She had a horrible suspicion she knew. What had Jonas asked Anat? At lunch had she ever talked about anything to her Red Hat Society friends? She always claimed she had a great treasure. Zyah was her great treasure. Anat really regarded her that way. It wasn’t diamonds or gold. Zyah was her treasure.
Player waited for her to slip into a chair close to Anat, and then he sat beside her. His presence comforted her. More and more, she feared she was right about Francine. Francine was the traitor, the local who had given the thieves information on the elderly, what they had inside their homes and how to get in. Francine would have heard the gossip about Anat’s treasure, and she would have passed that information on to the thieves, betraying Anat. Betraying Zyah. She glanced once at Terrie Frankle. She and Francine had some kind of connection. She traveled from place to place. She was in and out of people’s homes. When Zyah had changed the locks on the doors the first time, she could have easily gotten a key to the dead bolt.
Don’t keep looking at her, baby. Talk to your grandmother and have a good time. We’ll deal with all this later.
Player. The voice of reason. She didn’t know whether to cry her eyes out over Francine’s betrayal, knowing how it was going to hurt Lizz, or stand up and punch Terrie Frankle right in the mouth for deliberately hurting her grandmother. Instead, she forced a smile onto her face and joined the conversation swirling around her.
SEVENTEEN
Player stood in the shadows, watching Zyah and Alena moving through the aisles between tables. The restaurant was overflowing as usual. Crow 287 never lacked for business. For him, in that moment, Zyah was the epitome of courage. She moved with the grace of a dancer, flowing across the floor, stealing his breath. She was sheer magic to him, and he knew, if they spent a lifetime together, she always would be.
Zyah’s thick hair hung in a braid down her back. She wore little makeup, enhancing only her eyes and long lashes and that lush mouth of hers. Dressed in her favorite pair of vintage jeans and a silk blouse the color of dark forest green, she wore boots that only completed her look of femininity. He wanted to scoop her up and rush her out of there, instead of watching Alena show her around as if convincing her she really should work there.
He could hear everything said through the tiny earpieces built by Transporter and Mechanic. The two men made continuous improvements to the gear used on their hunt and takedown of pedophile rings. The earpieces would allow all of Torpedo Ink as well as Jonas to hear what was being said.
“I can’t believe that Delia Swanson is going to work in a grocery store instead of a restaurant, where she’s worked her entire life,” Alena grumbled, glaring at Zyah.
Zyah flashed a triumphant grin. “It’s not my fault she was sick of waitressing. Cooking. Running the entire operation. Or that Inez is that persuasive.”
“Your store has two new employees in one day, and I’m still looking. I think you owe it to me to take the job.”
“Alena.” Player all but growled her name. “Zyah doesn’t need a second job. She’s on her feet all day as it is.”
The two women made the circuit of the room right in front of the windows, Alena pointing various things out as they made their way toward the back room, where larger parties were often seated.
“I think I can decide for myself whether or not I need a second job,” Zyah said.
Player fought down the flash of amusement and the wild reaction of his cock at the snippy belligerence in her voice. He also knew the shit-storm she had just ignited with his brethren, and it made him smile in spite of the gravity of the situation. His woman had no idea what that little outburst was going to set off.