Two minutes later she was in her driveway. Lights burned all around her house. Dakota stepped out of the car and walked her to the front door. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight, Jamie. I promised Sam and Connor I’d make sure you were safe.”
She opened the door to her house and stepped in. But this time she noticed something that depressed her. Always before, the minute she entered her home, the stress seemed to roll from her shoulders.
Tonight it didn’t.
Because he’d invaded her security, her haven, her escape.
Again, she felt the familiar fear mixed with anger surface. She shoved it down. Not tonight.
“Jamie?”
“What?” She blinked. “Oh sorry. I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About security and how truly fragile it is.”
“Agreed.”
She set her keys on the foyer table and walked into the kitchen. “That’s why we can’t rely on humans or security systems or any other thing of this world to be our security.”
“Excuse me?” He sounded confused and she shot him a look. He lifted a brow. “Oh, you’re talking about God again.”
“Um-hm.” Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, she looked at him. “Want one?”
“No thanks.”
She cocked her head to the side and pinned him with a look. “We never did finish our conversation the last time we talked about God.”
“I know. I changed the subject.”
Surprised, it was her turn for the eyebrows to shoot north. “Yes, as a matter of fact, you did.”
“I’ve thought a lot about what you said, though.”
She wandered into the den area and sat on the couch. Dakota followed and sat beside her. That threw her for a moment, made her edgy.
He must have noticed, because he stood as though to move across the room.
She caught his hand. “No, sit with me.”
Dakota sat. She kept his hand clasped within hers, and he thought his heart might very well stop from the sheer joy of having her finally touch him voluntarily.
She was making an effort to overcome her fears, he realized. All that she’d already come through, accomplished in the last twelve years, she was still fighting, still reaching out. This time to him.
He swallowed hard and knew that if he didn’t want to have to eat his words, he was going to have to reciprocate. Settling back against the couch he looked beyond her and stilled. “Is that your latest painting?”
She followed his eyes to the sunroom. Her latest project finished in the middle of a sleepless night sat drying, the oil glistening in the lamplight.
“Yes.” She shot him a look. “A little different than the one you ‘helped’ me with.” She wiggled her fingers around the word.
An empty beach in the middle of a thunderstorm. Waves pounded the shoreline, a lone figure stood staring out over the water, her hair whipping in the wind, arms upraised.
“What is the person doing?”
“Marveling at God’s amazing power even in the midst of the worst storm you could ever imagine.”
“Does that parallel with your life?”
“Absolutely.” She cleared her throat. “Now, tell me about your childhood.”
Ouch. Aw man, anything but that. He’d rather talk about her storms than acknowledge his tumultuous upbringing.
Ignoring his initial response, he dug deep. He was in love with this woman for all the right reasons. She’d already shared quite a bit of her ugly past, he could do no less – not if he wanted things to go where he was pretty sure he wanted them to go. A white dress and a tux flashed to mind.
“All right. My dad was a cop and so was my grandfather.”
“Is that why you became one?”
He rubbed his chin. “Oh, part of it, I suppose, but I’ve always been fascinated by law enforcement. Of the good guys defeating the bad guys. All of that.”
She nodded.
He brushed nonexistent lint from his pants and took a deep breath. “Anyway, my … uh … dad had some anger issues. I guess the job just got to him. He started drinking shortly after a really bad case had gone wrong. I was about twelve at the time and remember seeing it on the news. There’d been a hostage situation and a shoot-out. My dad was a part of it. Somehow in the crossfire a pregnant woman and her two-year-old daughter were killed. Internal Affairs investigated and said the bullets came from his gun. He was never the same after that.”
Jamie winced but didn’t move from his side. Her fingers clutched his tighter.
“The drinking got worse and my mom begged him to get help. But he wouldn’t. And the more he drank, the meaner he got.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I am too. He started coming home drunk every night after cruising the bars with his buddies. Then the physical abuse started. At first it was only when I wasn’t around. My mom would have bruises and broken bones after I’d been gone for a while, and she always had some kind of story about why. Then he lost his job. Was fired from the force.”
“Oh no.”
“That’s when things got really bad. He started in on me. I think that was the final straw. I think it was either the fourth or fifth beating that landed me in the hospital with a concussion. My mother lost it.”
“Oh Dakota, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine …”
“One night she waited for him to get home, then bashed him over the head with his prize guitar. She caught him by surprise and beat him senseless. After he passed out, she grabbed the two suitcases she’d packed – and me – and we left.”
The compassion shining in her eyes nearly undid him. Swallowing hard, he took a moment to get it together.
She asked, “Where did you go?”
“We wandered around from relative to relative for a couple of years, then we went back home.”
“What happened?”
“We got back and found the place deserted. From all appearances, he left not too long after we did. I haven’t heard from him since.”
“Where’s your mother now?”
“Living in Texas with her sister.”
“Is your father why you don’t believe in God?”
“Oh, I believe in God, I just don’t know that I believe all that stuff about Jesus loving us so much that he was willing to die for a bunch of sinners.”
“You’ve never had anyone in your life you’d be willing to die for?”
Her question punched him in the gut. Stunned, he just stared at her.
And he knew for certain he’d die for her.
The realization threw him, knocked his world from its axis and gave him something to process – later. Clearing his throat, he said, “Maybe.”
For a long minute, she just sat there and stared at him. Then slowly she wrapped her arms around his neck. His hands came up to settle at her waist and he kissed her forehead. Then he buried his face against her shoulder.
For several moments they just sat there, then Jamie said, “Thank you for telling me.”
“It’s not a pretty story.”
“No, it’s not. But ugly stories don’t scare me much anymore.” She cocked a half smile at him.
“I don’t like reliving it. Thanks for listening.”
“Anytime.” She pulled back from his embrace and stood. His arms ached with emptiness, but he let her go, humbled by what she’d just done.
He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but it was … at least to him. No one in his life had ever done such a selfless act – for him. Not even his mother. She’d checked out on him shortly after their return home to find his father gone. Checked out mentally if not physically. He still talked to her occasionally, but mostly focused on his work … and Jamie.
“Here.”
He blinked. Jamie had left the room and gotten him a soda.
His favorite. She kept these in her fridge? For him? His love for this woman expanded.
“Thank you.” He took the proffered can and pop
ped the top. The carbonated liquid burned a path down his throat and he sighed. “I needed that.”
She smiled. “I thought you might.”
“It’s getting late. Do I grab the couch or do you want to head to your parents?”
Her smile turned upside down. “I don’t want to go to my parents. I’m worried if I stay there, whoever this guy is won’t care. I’m afraid that he won’t hesitate to go through them to get to me.”
“I understand that. The couch it is then.”
“Oh Dakota, you don’t have to do that.”
He stood and grazed a finger down her cheek. “I know I don’t, I want to.”
He saw her swallow. “Thank you.”
“Go get some sleep.”
A smile trembled on her lips. “All right. I have a clean toothbrush in the guest bathroom.”
“You mean Samantha’s bathroom?”
She gave a short laugh. “That’d be the one.”
“I’ll find it.”
She disappeared down the hall.
His phone buzzed and he pulled it from his pocket, his emotions in a freefall. Then he saw that it was Connor.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Are you still with Jamie?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m on my way over. One thing we’ve kind of swept under the rug is how this guy got in Jamie’s house. It’s been bothering me. I know we went over her house when it happened, but I’m just thinking we missed something. Plus, Sam wants me to see if I could talk Jamie into coming home with me.”
“Well, come on then. I was going to sleep on her couch tonight. She didn’t want to go to her parents’ house.”
“Worried he’d follow her there?”
“You got it in one.”
“All right. I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Let’s see if we can figure this out.”
“I’ll let you in.”
The Hero watched Connor’s car pull into Jamie’s drive. It looked like she was going to have a lot of company tonight. And that was fine. It would give him time to move on to the next phase of his plan. Make his presence even more personal. And begin to remove those who might be barriers to accomplishing his goals.
He backed out of the driveway where he’d parked. Security was pretty tight around her house and he’d had to be even more careful about concealing himself. But it seemed luck was on his side. He’d learned the routine of the cruisers that drove past Jamie’s house, and as far as the police were concerned, his car belonged in the neighborhood now.
Turning left out of the neighborhood, he wondered if his luck would hold. Connor was at Jamie’s, as was Dakota. Opening the glove compartment, he looked at his weapon of choice. The knife gleamed in the dim light.
He shut the box.
“Stop the pain, you have to,” the voice whispered.
“I am,” he said aloud. “I am. Now shut up.”
The voice fell silent.
He turned right, then another left.
And pulled across the street from Connor and Samantha’s house.
19
Dakota opened the door and Connor stepped in, relief at the air conditioner’s coolness evident on his features. “It’s too hot to think.”
“I know, but we’re going to have to force ourselves.”
“Right.”
“So this guy gaining entrance to the house has been bothering you?”
Connor went into the kitchen and came back with a water bottle in his hand. “Yeah, it is.”
“Any thoughts on how he got past her security system?”
“Not really. Short of getting her code, I don’t see how it can be done.”
“We checked the wires, nothing was cut, her phone was working fine.” He spread his hands and shrugged.
“I know. And all the windows are wired.”
“Then he had to have the code.”
“All right, let’s go with that thought for a minute. How’d he get it?”
“He watched her punch it in?”
“But the panel is on the inside.”
The two men fell silent, each lost in his own thoughts. Dakota offered, “Then he can see in her house some way. Uses high-powered binoculars or something.”
Connor blew out a sigh. “That seems a little far-fetched.”
“You got a better idea?”
Grimacing, Connor shook his head. “No.”
“So, let’s think outside the box.”
“Get creative?”
“Right. If I wanted access to this place, how would I go about doing it?” Dakota stood and paced over to the fireplace, pondering his own question.
“Find a way past the security system and – ” Connor’s words slowed, “ – make sure I could come back if I wanted to.”
“Do you think he somehow has access to the company’s security codes?”
A shrug and a sigh. “There’s no way to know. No way to really investigate that. It’s a well-known company with call centers all over the country.”
“True, but our guy is right here.” Dakota pulled a picture off the mantel and looked at it. Jamie as a teenager in her carefree days when smiling came naturally and the world was a safe place. Samantha stood beside her making bunny ears above the back of Jamie’s head.
“What are you guys talking about?” Jamie appeared in the doorway dressed in comfortable-looking sweats and a T-shirt that said I MAKE NO BONES ABOUT IT, I JUST DIG THEM UP.
Connor said, “Hey, sorry if we woke you up.”
“You didn’t. I was reading.”
“Connor decided we needed to pay more attention to how this guy bypassed your security system.”
“Oh.”
Dakota felt his heart twitch. “It’s one of the reasons I didn’t want you alone in your house. I’m afraid if he’s done it once, he can do it again.”
She grimaced. “I’ve thought about that.”
“Even with the cops outside, I still don’t feel comfortable with you here alone. The captain agrees we’ve got enough evidence that someone is after you so he’s good with the protection for now. Unfortunately, I can’t keep those guys out there indefinitely.”
“I know.”
“Look, Jamie,” Connor stood, “I know you’re worried about staying with your parents and I agree. But why don’t you come stay with Sam and me just until we get this guy.”
She frowned. “But what about Jenna?”
“I’ve explained the situation to her. She wants you safe, and after her experience with a killer last year, she’s willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you have the protection you need. She’s staying with my parents even as we speak.”
Through no fault of her own, Jenna had fallen into the hands of a killer Connor and Samantha had been trying to capture. Connor had found her just in time, and father and daughter now reveled in their second chance at renewing their relationship.
“I guess that would be all right.” Her jaw clenched and Dakota figured she felt that she was allowing this guy to win, to disrupt her life once more.
“Jamie, don’t get mad, let’s just do what we have to do to get this guy behind bars. You’ve worked hard to get where you are. Staying safe isn’t taking a step backward.”
Shock made her blink. “You read me pretty well, don’t you?”
He shrugged and Connor smiled. Dakota didn’t budge as he gave a short nod in the direction of her bedroom. “So are you going to go pack or do I have to do it for you?”
Only one light burned in the main part of house that he could see. It filtered through the living room from the den area. A light over the sink sent out a deceptively comforting glow. The garage door fit snug against the concrete and the driveway was barren.
The daughter, Jenna, must be out. Connor was at Jamie’s. That left Samantha alone.
That would work.
The Hero opened the glove compartment and pulled out his weapon of choice.
To kill or just do some damage? That was the question.
>
He’d make up his mind as the opportunity arose. He might just be here to observe. Could he enter the house without Samantha being aware?
He’d have to act fast, decisively. She was trained in self-defense, how to take care of herself. He’d have to catch her off guard, render her defenseless.
The knife clenched in his right hand, he walked the perimeter of the house. Samantha lay on the couch, asleep from all appearances. He’d heard she hadn’t been feeling well. Tonight, maybe he’d do her a favor and help her feel nothing at all.
His heart raced as he thought about what he was about to do.
“Do it, do it. Please stop the pain,” the voice begged.
“I am, I am,” he whispered.
He shook his head to get the words out of his mind. He couldn’t afford any distractions. Creeping closer to the window, he peered in. No animals to warn of his presence. An alarm system – not armed, he noticed.
Would the door chime if he opened it?
Maybe a window.
He looked at the French doors and made his way over to them. Pressed down on the handle.
Locked.
The garage?
Closed.
The front porch light was on. He’d avoid that.
He looked back at the garage.
A window slightly cracked. Hmm.
Keeping an eye on the neighboring house, he molded himself to the shadows, his steps full of stealth and purpose. Placing a gloved finger under the bottom edge of the window, he raised it slowly. It lifted smooth and easy.
Fortunately, the window wasn’t that high off the ground and he was able to hoist himself over and in. He landed on concrete with a quiet thud. Giving his eyes a second to adjust, he stood there, then took in his surroundings.
Empty, yawning space greeted him. Samantha’s car sat closest to the door. Leaving the window open in case he needed a quick way out, the Hero stepped lightly, his black-soled shoes silent on the cement floor.
At the door he twisted the knob. Locked. He grinned behind the mask. No matter, this was still his lucky day. He’d come prepared. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a small tool and inserted it into the deadbolt.
He’d practiced this over and over on his door at home until he had the movements down. Approximately six seconds later, a slight click sounded.
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