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 b.i.t.c.h out cold. It was one h.e.l.luva lucky punch, and it felt d.a.m.n 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 gla.s.ses, 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?”