David was about to move in to ensure the drinks were nonalcoholic when Alex said, “Okay, listen, Nate. We did it your way last time and you know how much I objected. This time we can’t take a chance with the missing zoo cat.”

David sat back down in his seat, listening intently. They had to be talking about the missing zoo cat from Oregon. Maya’s cousin—Tammy Anderson—was looking for it.

Nate snorted. “Hell, everything would have been fine with the jaguar if all had gone as planned. At least she’s safe for now.”

He wanted to hear more of the boys’ conversation about the missing cat before deciding whether to take them in for further questioning, but he saw something big and muscular in his peripheral vision. The bouncer. Brown eyes, nearly black, muscles bulging in readiness, mouth turned down. Hell. Joe Storm. As much as David didn’t want to make this personal, he couldn’t help having a grudge toward the guy. David still believed if Joe hadn’t stolen Olivia Farmer away from him and promised to marry her—which he had no intention of doing—she wouldn’t have committed suicide.

David watched the former JAG agent–turned club bouncer stalk toward the boys. He looked eager to teach the teens they weren’t welcome at the club until they were of age. David knew Joe from working with him on a couple of assignments; Joe liked women—too damn well, in David’s opinion—made allowances for most men, and had zero tolerance for troublemaking teens.

“Hey, Alex, trouble’s coming,” Nate said. Though David knew from experience that kids had to learn from their own mistakes, he also knew how hard Joe could be on them, and David didn’t always agree with his stern methods of enforcement.

Before David could reach the boys and protect them, the bouncer grabbed Alex and Nate by the arms and hauled them through the crowded club toward the back door. “I’ll break both your bloody noses,” Joe growled. “See if you’ll want to come back for more after that, eh?”

Joe never made idle threats. David had seen him rough up a drunken human who had started a fight in the club. Joe had broken another man’s nose for harassing one of the club’s dancers. Talking Joe out of what he intended to do was not going to work.

David lunged from behind and punched Joe in the side of the head. Joe released the boys, but they didn’t leave the club as David had expected they would.

“Go!” he shouted, just as Joe swung around, aiming to plant a fist in David’s face.

David ducked and came around to slug Joe in the jaw, but managed to hit him in the temple, knocking the son of a bitch out cold. It was one helluva lucky punch, and it felt damn good, he had to admit. Joe was an ex-marine, ex-boxer, ex-bartender, and looked like he killed men for pleasure, but right now he’d be sporting some major bruises.

Getting the upper hand was probably as much a shock to David as to everyone else in the club. The music stopped and all conversation died. The teens had vanished.

Cheers went up and David gave a thumbs-up to the club patrons’ raised glasses, whistles, whoops, and hollers.

Grinning, David hurried to call his boss, Martin Sullivan, director of the JAG branch, about the boys and the missing jaguar as he headed for the door to see if he could catch the kids before they disappeared for good.

“Martin, I’ve got good news and bad. The good news is that the Taylor twins seem to know something about the missing zoo jaguar. I want in on the case with Tammy Anderson. The bad news is that I’m probably about to get arrested. Can you tell her I’m working with her on this mission and to come pick me up from jail?”