Alex dug in the back seat for a moment. He climbed out of the truck, hit the lock button and left it idling. He clicked his police issue flashlight on and held it up, taking in the front stoop, the windows. Nothing moved. He wished the power was on. They needed to photograph the whole house, document everything. As much as he hated to admit she was right, stalking was a harder crime to prove, especially to officers who still had a small town mindset. If he tried to form a basis for a stalking case, the detectives might ignore it. But if he could prove someone was stealing from her, well, the boys would be up in arms about protecting one of their own.
He unlocked the front door and swept the living room with his light. Though he’d rather leave the door open, last he recalled Jenna still had the cat she’d scooped off a scene last year. He did not want to have to chase a damn cat all over the place on top of worrying about Delores and now Jenna.
He progressed through the living room, peered into the galley kitchen and did a quick walk through of the two bedrooms and bathroom to be sure the house was indeed empty before going back to the beginning and allowing himself to take it all in.
It was the first time he’d seen the inside of Jenna’s home. The furniture was mostly white distressed wood and beige, with bits of color thrown in with a blanket or frame. A coffee mug sat on the table in front of the sofa. The fireplace was decorated with pillar candles in the hearth. The cat’s food bowl was empty. A couple of snapshots of Jenna in her military fatigues were pinned to the fridge with magnets from South Beach and Long Island.
It was a warm, welcoming home. Someplace a person would want to return to. That Jenna might not feel safe here was entirely wrong.
He’d fix this, one way or another.
The spare bedroom was more of a make-shift office and work-out room, with a treadmill and a desk with some free weights lined up along the wall. He counted to make sure they were all there. A five pound hand weight could make a useful weapon in a pinch and if he’d surprised the stalker by not being the object of his obsession things could turn violent.
Alex took a deep breath and stepped into her bedroom, allowing himself to actually see it. Before he’d focused the floor, bed and the closet for human-shaped objects. Now, he took in the four poster bed, the floral curtains and the dresser drawers partially open. A pair of black, lacey underwear were draped over the side. He groaned. Just the visual he needed.
The house appeared to be in a state of waiting. As if Jenna would walk from one room into the next and carry on about her life.
He exited out through the back door and walked around the house, peering into the dirt near the hedges for boot prints or any indication someone might have watched her while she was unaware. In the darkness he couldn’t make out if the divots were footprints or something else.
There was nothing inside or out to indicate someone had been in her home. A detective couldn’t do anything about this. Worse, because of her connection to the department, if word got around Jenna thought she had an invisible stalker, people would start talking. In a bigger PD, it might get swept under the rug, but in Ransom, people gossiped, and when there was too much talk, it often left permanent marks. He’d felt the rough side of a few tongues himself.
They would have to catch the suspect in the act or document proof that what Jenna was saying was truth. Pictures. Video. DNA. Something.
He paused as he reached the driveway. The dash lights up-lit her face bent over the notebook. The last thing he wanted to tell her was that it didn’t appear as though anyone had been in her home. He wanted answers.
She glanced up and damn if his lungs didn’t stop for a second.
Right. Time to tell her the bad news.
Alex crossed to the driver’s side as Jenna unlocked the truck. He climbed in and glanced at the notebook.
“Get anything?” he asked.
“Just a few entries. It’s going to take me a while.”
“That’s okay. Take your time.” Alex nodded. “House is clear. Power’s not on yet.”
She blew out a breath. The tension vibrating off her could shake a mountain.
“I want you to go in and take a look around, if anything is out of place, take a picture. Tomorrow when the power’s back on, I want to document everything.”
“Yeah, okay.” She stared straight ahead.
“It’s getting awfully late. Why don’t you pack a bag and stay at my place tonight? I’ve got a guest room you can use. I don’t like the idea of you here alone right now.”
Jenna’s head snapped around. “Really? You don’t mind?”
“Mind? I’m about five minutes from telling you that’s what’s going to happen whether you like it or not.”
She tossed her head back and laughed, and damn if it wasn’t the best sound he’d heard in ages.
“Tonight, I’ll do whatever you say.” Jenna winked at him and her smile spread into an easy grin. This was the Jenna who haunted his fantasies, teasing him as the woman he’d never have.
Alex cleared his throat. “Let’s get a bag and call it a night.”
“Oh wait—what about my cat?”
“I’ve got a German Sheppard I’m not sure would mix well with a cat.”
“Dang.” She chewed her nail and stared at the front of the house.
“If he doesn’t bother you at night, we can set him up in the guest bedroom with you.”
“Are you sure? Mittens doesn’t tear stuff up, but he’s not exactly friendly.”
“Doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”
“Thank you. Seriously. And I’m sorry about earlier.”
“Don’t mention it. Let’s get the cat and go home.”
He killed the engine, and they met on the stoop. Alex went in first, armed with his flashlight. He wasn’t going to take chances, no matter that he’d been through the place twice.
“See anything out of place?” he asked.
Jenna pulled out her cell phone, flipped on her flashlight app and examined the coffee table and sofa as if she expected something to be there.
“I had this marble coaster I’d sit on the couch because it was so solid a drink wouldn’t tip over. It was gone for two weeks, randomly showed up for three days and has been gone ever since. I’ve torn apart the living room and kitchen looking for it.”
Alex shut the front door and followed Jenna through the living room, kitchen and second bedroom. They paused there to pack up Mitten’s litter box and feeding dishes. He hung back as she stepped into her bedroom. Knowing exactly what she wore tomorrow under her clothes was not the way he wanted to torture himself.
“Alex?” Jenna’s voice was high, wavering.
Something was wrong.
What had he missed?
He crossed the space between them in two strides and pushed her behind him, sweeping the room once more.
“What is it?” he asked.
“My drawer—it’s open. I never leave them open. It’s a thing. I can’t leave doors or drawers half open, they’re either shut or open. I didn’t do that. It’s not like me.” The pitch of her voice increased until it sounded as if she were about to break.
Alex turned, grasping her shoulders.
“Jenna, breathe.”
“I don’t do that.” She stared up at him, the look of sheer panic enough to make him pull her into his arms.
“I know you don’t,” he said to calm her down. He didn’t know the first thing about her ticks or habits. What she needed was comfort. “Take a deep breath. I’m going to look and make sure everything’s okay.”
Jenna hugged her arms around herself and nodded.
Alex took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever he was about to find and peered into the drawer. Jenna’s panties were neatly folded into little squares and organized by color and fabric. There were patterns, lacey things that seemed to have hardly no material whatsoever to them and then there were the bras, neatly lined up at the other end of the drawer. He swallowed and made himself look p
ast the undergarments.
“There’s nothing out of place that I can see. Look and tell me if anything’s missing.”
Jenna scooted closer and snatched the black thong draped over the side. She immediately chucked it into a trash can. He waited while she sucked down a deep breath and edged nearer, taking stock of her panties.
“I’m not sure. It’s not like I’ve named every pair of underwear I own.”
“Okay. Grab what you need. I’m going to look for your cat.”
Alex didn’t exactly flee the bedroom, but he walked with haste into the main part of the house. The visual of Jenna and a black thong would forever be burned into his brain.
IT WAS LATE—AND his Jenna was getting in a truck with another man?
He peered through the scope, focused on the bag the man had carried out of the house. It was the one Jenna kept in her closet just above her pretty dresses. There’d been a number of times he’d observed Jenna with this man. He was another cop, one of those who always put her in danger. The cops didn’t care about her.
Only he cared about Jenna.
What was she doing with this man?
Why was she leaving?
Didn’t she know he was here?
That they were supposed to spend tonight together?
The truck rumbled to life once more, and they backed out of the drive. She was leaving. Actually leaving him.
Had she taken the underwear he laid out for her? Was she going to wear them for that man?
He tapped the screen of his tablet, quickly scrolling to the section of the workspace labeled Coworkers-Police. There were several dark haired cops, but only one with the build of the man his Jenna had left with. Alex Myers.
Was she being unfaithful to him? Did she not appreciate all of his little gestures? Everything he’d done for her?
Red hazed his vision until he couldn’t see anything except Jenna’s face. She was special. Not like other women. And she was his. She would always be his. Maybe he hadn’t made that clear enough? Something whirred to life nearby and suddenly lights flickered in the surrounding houses.
The power.
Of course.
Did Jenna not like the darkness?
He should have left a candle burning for her or maybe a fire. She could have come home to a bright, cheery home. But instead of waiting for him she’d left with the cop.
She had to be taught a lesson. That’s what it boiled down to.
4.
JENNA STROKED GENGHIS’ head while listening to the sounds of Alex move around in the guest bedroom. Though Alex didn’t live in Ransom, he had a house a little east in Ft Worth. Come to think of it, most of the cops lived in other cities, probably for the same reason as her co-workers. When shifts needed to be filled, whoever lived closest was the first person called in. Which was exactly why she’d stayed in Ransom. She didn’t want to be left to her own devices. She wanted to be busy. Which was why she’d volunteered to be one of the SWAT medics on top of her regular duties at the hospital.
She’d met Alex that first day when she’d reported to the station. Even then, she’d shook his hand, and it was like the room went cold. She hadn’t been able to move, just gape at him. He was big and intimidating in a way that she found comforting. He had this intense way of looking at her. His tendency to monosyllabic answers should have put her off. And yet, it was enough to be selected to be on his teams for operations, to put in long hours of practice staring at his broad shoulders and be in his shadow.
God she had it bad for a man who barely seemed to realize she existed as something besides another check box of responsibility.
Genghis whined, as if sensing the turn of her thoughts.
She sighed and scratched the dog’s head. Why didn’t she have a dog instead of Mittens? The dang cat had scratched her going into and coming out of the carrier. But she couldn’t blame Mittens. Every time she took the cat anywhere people cut something off of him. His fur, his balls and even a leg. Not that only having three legs stopped Mittens. He didn’t let anything slow him down. Which was why she’d fallen in love with the damn cat.
Alex slid sideways through the guest room door and closed it behind him. His gaze landed on her before skipping to his dog. He smiled and one side of his mouth kicked up.
Great. She rated below the dog.
“Got someone to pet you?”
Genghis’ tail beat the floor, but he didn’t pick his head up from her lap, not even for his owner. At least one of the two men of the house liked her.
Alex sank onto the other side of the couch, his arm extending across the back of the cushions toward her.
“Bed’s made up,” he said.
Was that her cue to tuck herself out of his way?
“Thanks,” she said. Guilt gnawed at her. Her problems weren’t Alex’s, and yet, here he was, taking care of her.
“I checked to make sure nothing in there was full of feathers.”
Jenna blinked at Alex. Feathers? How did he know she was allergic to bird down?
“Your SWAT info has the allergy on there. Says you have one of those pen things.”
“Yeah, I do. I just didn’t remember that was on there. I’m surprised you do.”
Alex lifted a shoulder.
“If we were going into a chicken coop, it’s the kind of thing I’d want to know.”
“Let’s not jinx ourselves, okay? I’ve only had to use the pen once.”
“Let’s keep it that way.” He smiled, and she held her breath for fear she’d frighten it away. “Tell me about your family. I had no idea they went back so far.”
“Grandma’s side of things. The way I understand it, her parents owned some sort of general store that got destroyed in the fire of...68? Grandpa was in Vietnam, which left her raising Dad. I think he was almost out of high school by then...” It was hard keeping all the years straight, especially on so little sleep.
“That’s the fire that destroyed most of downtown?”
“The same. Grandma and Grandpa never rebuilt the store. They lost a lot of friends over that decision. I still get an earful from some of the little old ladies.” Jenna blew out a breath. There were some people who would never be satisfied.
“How’re the notes coming?” Alex asked.
“Good. I think I have it all down, including tonight.”
“I’ll look at it in the morning. How are you?”
“Fine.” She went back to staring into Genghis’ soulful brown eyes.
“Women say fine when something is wrong.”
Jenna lifted her gaze from the dog to his owner. She wanted to crawl across the couch and rest her head against Alex’s chest. He was a big, muscular man, built like a tank. Those shoulders carried the weight of their team. Was it too much to hope for his arms? It was a fruitless wish. He wasn’t into her.
“We wouldn’t be in here if everything was okay.” She sighed and scratched Genghis’ head. “It’s frustrating. I’ve been in combat situations where a man’s life depends on what I do next. We’re taking gunfire, and I don’t flinch. I just keep doing my job. The wrong place at the wrong time and it could be me who died. And now, the idea of someone being in my house has me so shook up I can’t think straight.”
Not to mention the nightmares, lack of sleep and missed meals because her stomach was so tied up in knots she couldn’t eat. It was a completely helpless place to be. And she hated it. Her vision blurred and damn it, she was not going to cry. She was a capable person. The police department might not allow her to carry a gun, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t defend herself. But this stalker—or PTSD—whatever it was, had her feeling helpless.
Alex’s hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling it away from Genghis. He tugged on her arm. She didn’t need more of an invitation—if that’s what it was. She scooted across the couch and leaned against him, closing her eyes as Alex surrounded her with his touch, his smell. Her body reacted immediately to him as it always did. Warmth settled low in her stomach and her h
eart beat a little faster. Her nerves pulsed, making her whole body throb.
Yeah, she wanted him. It wasn’t anything new—but it was the first time he’d held her.
This was why she hadn’t dated anyone in over a year—not that the dates before that had gone particularly well. But it wasn’t fair to those men to measure them to Alex because he was the man she wanted. The one that made it hard to breathe or even think when he was near.
God, she had it bad for him, and he barely knew she existed.
Tonight though, she’d pretend—at least in her mind—that this embrace was real. That he thought about her in the same crazy way she obsessed over him. Hell, she might even flirt with him given the opportunity, but for right now, she wanted to savor the feel of his arms around her, protecting her even from herself.
ALEX SHOOK HIS HEAD at the TV.
“No, no, where are the gloves? He’s not wearing gloves.” Jenna shook her clenched hand and picked her head up from his shoulder, glaring at the latest, ratings success of a cop drama.
He rested his palm over her fist, smoothing her hand over his ribs once more. He had a crick in his neck, bruises from the op earlier on his sternum, his right arm was scraped from Jenna’s keys, his left arm was going numb, there was a bruise on his thigh from her knee that her hip pressed when she sat up and he was going to have another bruise from where she propped her chin on his chest when the TV cops did something stupid—but he didn’t care. He’d sit here all night if she let him hold her.
“God, can’t they just have a cop consult on the show?” She grumbled something else under her breath and settled against him once more.
“The show would be a lot slower and less exciting if it were real.”
“I know.” She sighed.
Alex stared down at the top of her head. He wanted to touch her hair, run his fingers through it, but he hadn’t. She’d permitted him this one privilege of holding her, but that didn’t mean she’d allow him anything else. He couldn’t put his finger on the exact moment, but somewhere in the last two hours there’d been a shift between them. Jenna had relaxed, they’d cracked a few jokes, and the mood changed. It was easy.
Fighting Redemption Page 3