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Darby
I showered and dressed as soon as I got back to Mark’s place, and slid into the dress I’d borrowed from Priscilla. It was a little black dress with a scoop neck, three-quarter sleeves, and a flirty skirt that nearly hit my knees. Her shoes had been a size too big for me, so I was making do with ballet flats I’d salvaged from my apartment.
William arrived a few minutes early.
When I came out to meet him, he handed me a beautiful bouquet.
Warmth spread across my face. “Thank you. They’re stunning.”
“No, you’re stunning. They’re just pretty.” Will leaned in as I accepted them and kissed my cheek.
The heat intensified on my face.
“Mark,” I called. “Do you have anything I can put these in?”
He glanced up from where he’d been sprawled on the couch, watching baseball. “Uh, sure. Above the fridge. There might be a beer stein or something.”
I rolled my eyes. “Can you help me? I’m a little too short to reach.”
He got up wordlessly and procured the suggested beer stein. I couldn’t see into the cabinet well enough to know if there was anything else more suitable, but it held water. Perhaps tomorrow, I could find something else.
“Thanks,” I told him as flatly as possible.
“So, Young? Where you taking my partner to tonight?” Mark called as I filled the stein from the tap.
I rolled my eyes and hissed, “Do you have to be so nosy?”
“I have reservations at Grünauer,” Will said as we came into the dining area.
“Fancy,” Mark commented. His tone held some sarcasm.
I frowned at him and shook my head. No more. Please, don’t try to confront him.
After taking a sniff of the flowers and setting them on Mark’s dining table, I grabbed my purse and jacket, then smiled at Will. “Ready?”
“Of course.” He offered me his arm.
“Good night, Mark,” I said. “Don’t wait up.”
“Curfew’s at eleven!” Mark smiled cheerily.
“Is he serious?” Will asked as he opened the front door and beckoned me through.
I sighed. God, I hoped not.
* * *
Mark
AS SOON AS DARBY AND Will had shut the door, Mark shut off the screen and crossed to the front window, standing at an angle where the two of them wouldn’t see him. He watched them leave, and as soon as they turned the corner, left through the front door, careful to lock it and make sure he wasn’t seen.
He didn’t think he’d be in any danger of Young doing anything before he could swap cars, but then again, when she’d been in the shower, Mark had dropped a rice-sized GPS tracker in the purse Darby had laid out. It would go unnoticed by her until she cleaned out her purse. The battery would last a solid 24 hours, too.
Mark was not interested in repeating anything remotely similar to the summer two years ago when she’d been kidnapped.
As long as she had her purse, they’d be able to track her down.
Moira had the car in the driveway of her stately Plaza area home when he arrived twenty minutes later. He’d had to be careful seeing as he nearly caught up to Will and Darby two separate times. When he’d spotted the sedan Will drove, he’d immediately turned down a nearby street and looped around.
Couldn’t be too careful.
“Your truck messes up the aesthetics of my home, little brother,” Moira said as she handed the passkey off to him and accepted his own fob on the front porch of her home.
“Put it in the garage if you want.”
“Who did you say you were going out with again?”
“I didn’t.”
“Why do you need the backpack?”
He leaned in and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll tell you later, sis. Tell Reid thanks for the borrow. I owe you guys.”
“You owe me more than one!” She called after him.
He smiled.
His brother-in-law was a smaller man than him, so Mark had to take a minute to adjust the seat, then he took off, being careful not to burn rubber while in the sight of Moira. He’d never hear the end of it if he did that to the car.
When he turned onto Wornall, he finally found the right spot on all the adjustments, and realized how nice a car his sister and brother-in-law had. It would fit in nicely with the area Will and Darby were going.
Mark caught Ward Parkway, then Broadway, and kept an eye on the GPS tracker as he headed north. About the time he was passing Penn Valley Park, the tracker stopped at the Freight House—where the restaurant Will had mentioned was located. Good. Will hadn’t been an ass and tried to put the moves on her beforehand. Go and have a nice dinner, get her to drink some wine, lace the drinks there...
Then they’d have to see.
As long as it meant Mark could catch the guy red handed, it wouldn’t be a biggie. Let him make the move.
If he could face him, Mark would dare him to.
Just so he could be the one to stop Will.