by Debra Webb
The house was nice, but it felt like too much for a single woman. Until he remembered the mansion she’d grown up in. Getting back to business, he scanned the house again for any bugs or transmitters. Apparently no one had bothered to wire the house again today.
Hearing the shower turn off in her bathroom, he grabbed fresh clothes and went to clean up. He’d told her to relax and give the issues surrounding her dad’s death a break, but he couldn’t afford to take the same step back from the case. In fact, he wanted to take her out tonight to test a few theories of his own.
Leaving the capitol, he was sure they’d been followed right up to the final turn into her neighborhood. Most of her life was an open book, no need to follow her if you knew she was headed home. He was convinced the killer was close to both Jana and her dad. He was also convinced the killer was underestimating Jana’s determination.
Tonight could prove interesting. Freshly showered and dressed in jeans and a casual shirt, he walked out of the hall bath and nearly bumped into Jana. Her hair was up in a high ponytail and her deep blue shirt was unbuttoned enough to reveal enticing cleavage behind a lacy camisole. The jeans were practically painted onto her sweet curves and the red heels nearly stopped his heart. He pulled his focus back to her face, noticing the diamonds sparkling at her ears and throat. “I said pool hall,” he managed when he found his voice.
“I heard you,” she said, sauntering past him. “How long until you’re ready?”
He was ready now, but not for pool. “Should I change?”
She paused, turning just enough to look him over. It was all he could do to stand still and take it, when his body screamed at him to take her. Right there against the wall.
A slow smile transformed her face. “You look great.”
He escaped into the guest room and tried to breathe. Tugging on his boots, he pocketed his wallet and cell phone and grabbed his keys.
In the truck, she gave him directions east toward the Red River district. “My favorite place has pool, about a thousand kinds of beer, and great bands every night.”
“Bands?”
“It’s Austin.”
“I’m aware,” he said before she lectured him about the music tradition in town. “Do you play pool?”
“Like a shark,” she said with a nod. A smile tipped up one corner of her glossy lips. “A little something Theo taught me when we were on the pageant trail. Sometimes we played pool all night just to get a break from the intensity.”
Dylan scanned the roadway again, disbelief making it hard for him to focus. Or maybe it was the lady seated next to him. “Sounds like Theo is a hell of a guy.”
“He’s the best. What do you think happened to our biker buddies the other day?”
Apparently, he wasn’t being very subtle about keeping watch. “I’m hoping they got picked up by the Highway Patrol.”
“So you’re just being vigilant tonight.”
“It’s habit in my line of work.” He was more than a little relieved when they reached, without incident, what looked like three bars squeezed into one sprawling establishment. He could feel the pounding of a heavy bass beat in the parking lot. “That’s a big place.”
“I hear getting let go calls for a big night.”
He couldn’t stop himself from matching the unrepentant grin on her face. This could be all kinds of fun, especially with someone tailing her. He escorted her into the wall of sound and the crush of people. Her ponytail swung as she looked left and right before deciding on the best route. She led him past two bars and a stage where two-stepping couples filled the dance floor in front of an energetic band.
Catching his hand, she drew him around another cluster of people and into a room with pool tables lined up in every direction. “Call next at a table and I’ll grab the beer.”
“No.” He pulled her to his side, giving the impression they were far more intimate than investigator and client. With a palm on her hip, he reminded her they’d stick together. “We can wait until the waitress comes by.”
“That could take a while.”
He saw a game wrapping up nearby and took over the table. “I’ll survive.”
An hour and a half later, after snacking on appetizers and enough games of pool to have him ready to take her home and do things they would both regret, he was convinced protecting Jana might kill him. If it wasn’t her hips, it was the mouth-watering view when she bent low over the table. Watching her drink straight from a longneck bottle shouldn’t be a turn on, but something about it was sexy as hell. He wasn’t the only one taking notice, but the admiring cowboys shooting pool around them didn’t bug him as much as the guy in the sport coat. The dude strolled by more often than he should. He had security stamped all over him and he was only a few degrees below Gregory on the uptight meter. He was also carrying a concealed weapon, but he wasn’t part of the bar staff. Dylan hadn’t missed the way the staff sized up the guy. He made them nervous.
Dylan walked up behind Jana as she lined up her next shot, leaning in close to her ear. “Do you know that guy?”
He gave her points for composure. She didn’t immediately look, but took her time, chalking the pool cue first. She nudged him back so she could take the shot and when the ball sank into the side pocket, she gave a happy little cheer and a kick of one red high heel.
Strolling around the table she lined up another shot and missed. It didn’t seem to upset her as she walked over and swiped a French fry off the plate. “I’ve seen him before. I thought he was following me for several days,” she said. “He was across the street just before we met in the coffee shop. I haven’t seen him again until now.”
Dylan hadn’t seen him at all until today. “Reporter or dedicated fan?” he asked, moving toward the pool table.
“I have no idea.” She stalled him with a kiss on the cheek.
“What’s that for?”
“Luck.” She tipped her head toward the table. “You’ll need it.”
The woman hadn’t left him any kind of decent shot. “I can still take you,” he said.
“I’d have to agree.” She added a big wink and a Texas-sized smile.
What the hell was she playing at? To an outsider she might look flirtatious or tipsy, but he knew better. It required more effort than it should to focus on clearing the table and settling the tab.
“Let’s dance,” she said as they passed by the stage. “My consolation prize.”
There were worse places to hide than a crowded dance floor. Dylan could use some time to figure out how to protect Jana and confront the guy tailing her. Thoughts of confrontation evaporated as they joined the dancers. Jana’s body swayed in time with his and in those heels, her mouth was too accessible. He jerked his eyes away from her rosy lips, up and over her head. He was on a case and she was playing along at his request. Reading too much into her act wouldn’t be a smart move. It would be disastrous.
When he tallied up each of the attempts on her life and added in the changing behavior of everyone she’d been close to, he didn’t like the result. Political or personal, she was in someone’s crosshairs and he wasn’t sure he’d figure it out in time. The last time he’d felt this overwhelmed, this incompetent, he’d lost his job.
“We need to talk,” he said abruptly.
“Is relaxation time over?” Her hand squeezed the tense muscles in his shoulder. “I was having fun.”
“Me too,” he admitted, smiling into her lovely green eyes. “The guy we don’t know is following us and he’s armed.”
“Okay.” She peered around his shoulder. “So he’s not a reporter.” She licked her lips. “Kiss me.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” Her fingertips danced along the placket of his shirt. “Come on, Dylan.”
He wasn’t sure how his feet kept moving when his lips touched hers. The music seemed to fade out, muted by the pounding of his pulse. Pressed against him, he felt her guiding him closer to the edge of the dance floor. “Aren’t I suppo
sed to lead?”
“You were leading that kiss well enough,” she said. “Follow me.”
While she guided him down the hall toward the restrooms, they passed another couple indulging in a bold, alcohol-induced public display of affection. Braced against the wall, Jana’s fingers caught in his belt loops, she pulled his hips to hers. “Is he still there?”
Dylan used the mirror in the corner. “Yeah.”
“Tell me when he’s gone,” she said as her lips met his.
He angled his head, keeping his eyes on the mirror. He was reasonably sure he might die of need before he could say, “Now.”
“Hurry.” She tugged him into the kitchen and out through the back door.
Together, hands linked, they bolted for his truck. They made it out of the parking lot without any unwanted company, but Dylan knew he wouldn’t rest easy tonight.
Learning she was being tailed by an armed professional was bad enough. The realization of how very much he wanted her was equally dangerous.
To both of them.
Chapter Eleven
Jana walked into her house and let her keys fall onto the table in the foyer. If tonight was an example of how people dealt with becoming unemployed, it wasn’t so bad. Of course, she couldn’t quite look Dylan in the eye and neither of them had said more than a word or two in the truck. She didn’t want to know what he thought of her. Her mind was preoccupied with trying to figure out how she felt about herself. And him.
What had she been thinking dancing and kissing him like there was no tomorrow? The answer was obvious and she felt her cheeks heat with yet another blush. She wanted to get as close as he’d let her. Well, as a diversion it had worked, he said they hadn’t been followed from the club. Then again, she wasn’t that hard to find.
She paused at the hallway debating the wisdom of retreating to her bedroom. Better to not let the awkwardness fester, she thought, and headed into the kitchen for a glass of water. The kisses and her increasing attraction to Dylan had to take a back seat to the reason he was here in the first place. She hit the kitchen light and stared, unable to process the total chaos at first glance. The high of the evening plummeted to an all-new low.
Curses poured out of her like a waterfall, but her feet were mired in place, her knees locked as she took in the harsh new reality in her kitchen. Someone had been through her home again. Papers were scattered, her laptop and his were open on the table, not where they’d been left in their respective bags.
Dylan skidded to a stop behind her and added a few oaths to hers. “You can’t stay here tonight.” The flash of the camera on his phone shot like bolts of lightning as he documented the damage.
“I’m not leaving.” Her voice sounded flat, but her stomach pitched and rolled. “Someone was in my house.”
He gently turned her away from the mess and into a warm hug. “Let’s walk through together,” he suggested.
“It’s my house.” Her legs felt heavy, but it was the prickling of fear skittering just under her skin that kept her moving. “I won’t tolerate this.”
“Good,” Dylan said, taking her hand. “One room at a time.”
It was no surprise but just as offensive to see that the boxes from her office had been dumped and examined on the floor of the dining room. “Who does this?”
“Someone desperate,” Dylan answered.
“I want to know how they got in. I have a security system. Don’t say it,” She held up a hand, stopping him from pointing out yet again how easily those could be breached. “And it was still armed when we got here. I should call the police.” She grabbed the phone.
He nodded. “Jana Clayton, social policy advisor to the senator would do that.”
“Anyone with common sense would do that,” she shot back.
He winced. “Walk with me. Let me get some pictures before crime scene techs take over.”
One hand on her phone, one hand in his, she walked through the rest of the house, cringing at every violation. The den, her bedroom, the bathrooms, not even Dylan’s things in the guest room had been spared.
“They searched everything but the front room.” Hands on her hips, she shook her head. “It makes no sense.”
“Someone who knows your habits then.” He’d noted that Jana kept nothing, not even an iPad or file folder, anywhere in her front room. Stating the obvious aloud made her quake. She rubbed her hands over her arms while he sent the pictures to Claudia.
“Now can I call the police?”
“In a minute. Who knows your security codes? Who has a key?”
With no sign of a break-in, not even a cracked window, the sensible question bothered her though it shouldn’t have. “Dad and Camille knew the code for the garage. I don’t usually lock the door between the garage and the house. I keep a spare key at their house. That’s it.”
“What about Gregory?”
“He never had a key.” She folded her arms across her chest. “Can I call the police?”
“They’ll want to know if anything is missing,” he said. “Can you answer that yet?”
A scream of frustration built in her throat, but she swallowed it back. “It’s impossible to tell without sifting through everything,” she said, ignoring the mess in the kitchen as she stalked down the hall to her bedroom.
Shoving her phone into her back pocket, she poked at the mess, doing a quick inventory of her valuables and jewelry. “All the jewelry is here.” Even the ring from Gregory that she wished was gone.
“You keep jewelry in interesting places,” he said, leaning one broad shoulder against the doorjamb. “Why didn’t Gregory have a key?”
She shot him a glare. “What is your fixation with him?”
“That he seems to be fixated on you.”
“You do realize that makes you sound jealous?” She looked around the room and cringed at the closet. “I really want to clean up.”
“Can’t do that if you want to call the police,” he said.
She felt imprisoned in her own bedroom with Dylan blocking the door and this... mess surrounding her. “I need air.”
He stepped aside and she hurried out to the front room and sank into the chair by the window. “Do you think whoever did this got what they wanted?”
“Depends on what they were looking for.”
“Stop talking in riddles.” If she’d just called the police, there would be flashing lights, sirens, and help by now. She laced and unlaced her fingers. “I have to call the police.” This was too much. She couldn’t take anymore.
“Jana, look at me.”
She did. Something about the hard line of his jaw, the serious look in his eyes, settled her down immediately.
“You don’t know what’s missing, so it’s too early to rule out anything. This could be personal. It could be political. It could be about your dad, or it could be staged to discredit you.”
“What? Who would believe that? There were plenty of people who can attest that we were at the bar forgetting I wasn’t invited to the swearing in and that I no longer have a job.”
“And being watched the whole time.”
“You think that man was working with whoever did this?” Just when she thought her stomach couldn’t twist any tighter, it did. “Personal,” she began, forcing herself to think. “That doesn’t fit, despite the clothing scattered all over my room. Nothing’s destroyed or broken. Nothing’s missing that I can see. Random would mean evidence of forced entry and missing valuables.”
“Good.” He rolled his hand. “Keep going.”
“No forced entry might point to Camille, who had access to my house key, but I can’t imagine her doing anything like this.”
“If you call the police they’ll investigate those with access, right?”
“I should hope so.”
“An incident like this would make the news and give the public the impression of discord between you and the new senator.”
She nodded, reluctantly accepting that possibility.
<
br /> “Let’s say she has an alibi as solid as yours. With nothing missing and no property damage, she could spin it to make you look unbalanced.”
Jana was starting to feel unbalanced. “You’re right. Even Jerry from security said something about me struggling. Apparently, they’ve already been spreading rumors.” She raised her hands in surrender and tossed her phone onto the coffee table. “What do you suggest?”
“Leave the cops out of it,” he said. “We confirm what is or isn’t missing and only make a report if we have to. I think it’s best if we pretend it didn’t happen.”
“You said I can’t stay here.”
He turned up his hands. “Knee-jerk reaction. I say we stay. No one will get to you while I’m here.”
She believed him. “Ignoring it, not reacting, will force whoever did this to react again. It’s not what they’ll expect me to do.”
There was nothing cavalier or cocky when he dipped his chin affirmatively. “Assuming they haven’t found what they’re after.”
“So we search it all.”
“Every single thing they touched.”
It wasn’t how she wanted to spend the rest of the night and maybe those who thought they knew her best would advise against listening to a virtual stranger, but she didn’t care what anyone else thought.
She trusted Dylan completely... with her life.
Dylan let her lead, more than a little relieved she wanted to start with the contents of the boxes strewn about her dining room. The last thing they’d packed, the contents were fresh in their minds. A few of the photo frames were cracked, but nothing seemed to be absent.
He was almost grateful to whoever had broken in. He wasn’t sure what he would’ve done without the reminder about why he was here. Jana was a client and the sooner he figured out what was going on the better.
In the kitchen, it appeared both of their computers had blocked multiple attempts to break their passwords. As much as he griped about it, he had to be grateful for the strict security measures the agency had drummed into him. He was glad he’d kept the key in the safe in his truck.