I arched onto my toes and wriggled. Then I felt something that definitely wasn’t his fingers. I leaned forward, lifting up—and caught a spray of bacon grease in the face.

He pulled me back, then leaned down to murmur, “Sorry. It won’t work very well anyway. Not unless we get you a stool.”

“You calling me short?”

“Petite.”

He turned me to face him, and perched me on the edge of the low section next to the stove. Then he slid the shirt up over my thighs, pulling my legs around him, and pushed into me.

I gasped. “Having sex with a woman while she’s cooking your breakfast? Your fantasies are showing your age, Karl.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“An observation.”

“Ah.”

“But if I overcook the bacon…”

“My fault. Risk noted.” He thrust into me. “And accepted.”

OVER BREAKFAST, KARL wanted to talk about Jaz and Sonny’s disappearance. I’d rather have not. The mention of Jaz’s name made my stomach churn. I was worried about him and desperately wanted to find him, to make sure he was safe. And then what? How would I explain this?

Thank God you’re back, Jaz. Er, but about that special night you had planned…

Yes, I’d initially wanted a fling with Jaz because of Karl, to wipe him from my mind, but it hadn’t been a casual hookup. I liked Jaz, cared about him, and that only made it all worse.

But if I did care, then I had to put my own feelings of guilt aside and concentrate on figuring out what had happened to him. Karl raised the possibility that Jaz and Sonny’s disappearance was an inside job. I think he was shocked when I agreed it was a possibility. Did he expect me to jump to the defense of people I’d met only days ago? We weren’t dealing with a Boy Scout troop.

When he told me whom he suspected, though, I did disagree. Could I see Guy killing a crew member to further his agenda? Possibly. But it wouldn’t be Jaz.

We decided the next step was to get into the club and take a look around while everyone else was sleeping off a late night hunting for Jaz and Sonny. It was unlikely we’d find a “why I kidnapped my crew mates” note hidden in the back closet. But if Guy kept any records of those Cabal dustups they’d be at the club.

YESTERDAY, KARL HAD huffed about poor security at the club. Seems that had been his ill humor talking. The security was well above anything I could breach, and even Karl had to work to get us in.

Once inside, we split up to check the building and ensure we were indeed alone. Karl would take the office; I’d look through the club and back storerooms.