She waited for the fear and disgust to bubble up but it never happened. Jonas’s hands made her think about fingertips brushing over bare skin. About heat and light.
A crash like the sound of metal on metal brought her mind flying back to the present. Her feet hit the floor as she sat up and stared through the doorway to the back of the house.
The police were outside. Jonas had set the alarm. The sound was nothing more than a trash can. She repeated the explanation, trying to convince her mind to accept it, until she heard the noise a second time.
She leaned over with her upper body resting on Jonas’s thighs. “Wake up.”
His hand slipped into her hair as his legs shifted to give her more space.
“Jonas.” Her whisper bordered on frantic now. She couldn’t keep that anxiety from crashing over her and coming out in her voice. “Please, get up.”
His body stilled as his hand dropped to his side. “I’m not sleeping.”
“We have a problem.”
“What?” The sleepiness hadn’t faded from his voice.
“I hear something.”
His eyes popped open as he struggled to sit up despite her weight pushing him into the cushions. “Where?”
“Out back, upstairs. I don’t really know.”
He eased her off of him and sat up, slipping his feet into the sneakers he’d left by the couch. “Describe it.”
“A bang.” She tried to call it up from memory but couldn’t. Fear made her dizzy. “It could have been the wind, but I thought someone was trying to get in.”
“That’s definitely a problem.” He stood up in a fluid movement, feet on the floor and a gun in his hand. No limping or groaning.
No one would ever guess what his body had been through over the past two days. He controlled each muscle with ease.
“Give me a direction,” he said.
She called up a diagram in her head, but locating the source after the fact proved tough. She thought she knew, but wasn’t willing to risk his life on a maybe. “Call for backup. Let someone else skulk around out there in the dark.”
“If someone is in here, the silent alarm has been tripped.” He reached down and swiped his phone off the coffee table.
The tapping of his fingers against the screen screamed like a freight train through the room. She knew it was her imagination, but the walls closed in, anyway.
He tucked the phone into his back pocket. “And now the not-so-silent alarm is going off at the station. They should be here in a minute since the station is right around the corner.”
The idea of carloads of police officers descending on the property actually appealed to her. Since meeting Jonas she welcomed law enforcement into her life. Well, some.
She slipped her fingers under his elbow and prepared for a verbal battle waged in hushed tones. “We should get out of here.”
Instead, he nodded. “Agreed.”
His answer stunned her. He was the race-in-and-solve-it type. Several times since she’d met him, the world fell apart and he worked alone to get it up and spinning again. This time he used common sense.
She was immediately suspicious. “What are you doing?”
He pushed her behind him and covered her as they walked backward to the front door. “Getting you out of here.”
“You’re coming with me?”
“Yes.”
She grabbed on to the back of his shirt. “Why aren’t you fighting me?”
“I’m trying to be realistic.”
“Not what I was expecting.”
“My body is done. Taking this threat on alone could get us both killed.” He stole a quick look out the narrow window that ran parallel to the front door. “And, believe it or not, I’d like to go an hour or two without a homicide on my watch.”
Doubt nibbled at the edges of her brain. “Maybe I imagined it.”
“No.” He slipped an arm by her and turned the knob. “I believe you.”
The door opened and a cool, damp wind pressed against her back. As soon as her feet landed on the porch, Jonas signaled to the guy in the sheriff’s car. The guy shut the door and shot across the lawn toward them.
“What’s wrong?” The man scanned the yard with wide eyes as he walked up the wide front steps.
Jonas tried to set her away from him. “Put Ms. Allen in your car.”
She kept her death grip on his arm. “You promised.”
“I actually didn’t, but I’m not going in alone.” He waved for the sheriff to come closer. “Someone is in the house.”
The guy froze in midstep. “But how—”
Four police cars raced down the street with sirens blaring and lights flashing. The noise was enough to bring every neighbor running. Front doors opened and people spilled out onto their porches and driveways.
The familiar scene had Courtney’s head spinning. People talking and watching. All the judging and questions, and once again much of it aimed in her direction. Her mind spun until it landed on that night years ago.
“This is different.” Jonas whispered the thought against her ear.
“I know.” She swallowed back the choking anxiety and tried to focus on the positive. The show of neighbor support might be a good thing. Anything to scare the intruder away worked for her.
But Jonas didn’t stay calm, either. He exhaled and swore at the same time. “Damn.”
“What is it?”
“The guys were supposed to come in quiet.” Jonas glanced up at his second floor. “We’ll never catch the intruder now.”
Rich jogged up the lawn with two officers right behind. “Now what?”
Jonas whipped around then pressed his hand to the bandage on his forehead. “Potential intruder.”
“Did your alarm go off?” When Jonas gave a short shake of his head, Rich tried again. “Did you see him?”
“I heard him.” She stared at the police and sheriff cars clogging the street. She counted eight. “But you’ll get him, right? I mean, how does he get past all of this?”
“I have a feeling he’s gone.” Jonas blew out a harsh breath then started pointing. “Okay, surround the house. We need to go in hard. Someone is in there.”
Before she could protest, Rich jumped in. “You mean we need to. You’re staying here.”
Jonas made a noise that sounded a lot like a growl. “Rich—”
“I’m overruling you on this and you know I’m right.” Rich turned around and motioned for the policemen to gather around.
“Fine,” Jonas said through clenched teeth before he pushed his way into the center of the circle.
He issued clear, short orders in seconds. When he lifted his head again, the men spread out. They all wore vests and carried guns. Groups of two went around each side of the house. Rich and another man she didn’t recognize slipped through the front door, one after the other, all while Jonas talked on police radios about blocking the street and clearing out the neighbors for their safety.
When he looked back at his house, a nerve twitched in his cheek. She knew standing on the sidelines killed him. For a man like Jonas, watching ripped against the grain. He didn’t send in another man to fight his battles. He waded in on his own.
She admired that. Admired almost everything about him, actually.
She heard shouts from inside the house. “I hope I didn’t imagine it.”
He finally glanced at her. “Do you think you did?”
“I honestly don’t know anymore, Jonas. So much has happened in the past two days.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in tight against his side. With his mouth close to her ear, he whispered, “I trust you.”
The word zinged right to her heart. She searched her mind, tried to remember if anyone had ever said that to her. Not since she turned twenty. She’d spent many years throwing out theories and ideas about her father and people discounted them. Except for her work, where she ruled with a soft hand and no one questioned her, she expected people not to l
isten to her.
Rich stepped out onto the porch, his boots clomping against the old wood. “Jonas, there’s no one in there.”
Her stomach fell. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Jonas squeezed her shoulder before his arm dropped. “Anything missing?”
“You’ll have to check, but nothing obvious.” Rich marched down the steps, ripping the Velcro on his vest as he went.
She was desperate for Rich not to see her as a crazy person. “I swear I heard it.”
When he looked at her, his expression went blank. “I’ll put another man on the house and take the night shift myself.”
She shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
Rich snorted. “You have reason to be on edge after the thing in the forest.”
“But this?”
He winked at her. “So long as it doesn’t happen every hour, we’re fine.”
Jonas clapped Rich on the shoulder. “Thanks for racing here.”
“Per your orders, I have patrols going through town. Walt stepped up and provided additional personnel.”
“I owe him.”
“He mentioned that.”
More men poured out of the house and headed for the cars. She was trying to figure out a new way to apologize when a younger policeman came around the side of the house and waved to Jonas. “I think we have something here, sir.”
Rich and Jonas took off and Courtney followed them. The group stopped at the small window over the kitchen sink. Jonas ran his hand over the sill.
“What is it?” Rich asked.
“Marks in the wood.”
Rich made a face as he eyed the chipped paint. “How can you tell?”
“See this?” Jonas pointed to a thin scrape at the bottom of the window and near the lock at the top. “This isn’t from disrepair. Someone tried to work this open.”
She stared at the tight space. “Even if he did get it open, who could fit through there?”
“Good question.” Jonas pointed at the officer who found the marks. “Good job. I doubt we’ll find anything, but we need a fingerprint kit.”
The guy almost tripped over his own feet running to do Jonas’s bidding.
Rich watched and shook his head. “I’ll set up roadblocks and start a search. The guy is likely long gone, but it’s worth a shot.”
Jonas nodded. “Right.”
“Do we have any idea why someone wants to get to you so badly?” Rich asked her.
She debated on how much to share. “Well—”
Jonas made the decision for her. “I’ll fill you in later.”
“Then I’ll go handle the basics.” Rich turned the corner and disappeared.
Standing alone at the back of the house, Courtney shivered from the chilling wind. A few seconds ago she hadn’t even felt it.
Jonas frowned at her. “You okay?”
She rubbed her hands over her arms and felt the tiny bumps there. “Fine, but I’m trying to believe you’re not furious about someone violating your space.”
“Don’t let the calm fool you. My biggest goal is to figure out how someone got this close to you without me knowing it.”
Having her back exposed had her shifting to lean against the house. “That one has me worried, too.”
“They won’t be back.”
She closed her sore eye and peeked up at him with the other. “How do you know that? I don’t care what the answer is. I just want reassurance. Tell me you’re sure.”
“It’s easy.” He pressed a palm against the house, right next to her head, and leaned in. “He knows we’re ready.”
“What if what the person really wants is me?”
“The only one who’s going to be near you is me.”
The trembling inside her had nothing to do with the cold. “I’m not sure how to take that.”
He drew even closer, with his mouth just inches from hers. For a second, she thought he would close the distance and kiss her. Instead, he pushed off and stood up.
“Yeah, you do.”
“Jonas—”
He held out a hand to her. “Let’s go see what Rich is doing.”
Chapter Fifteen
Cade sat on the hood of his rental car and let the heat from the metal warm him from the wind whipping across the Siuslaw River. He blew out long breaths, trying to restore his heart to a consistent beat.
The call had come in less than an hour ago. The county sheriff hit Redial on Paul’s phone and called Cade. At first, Cade kept it all business, ready to deliver the cover he’d created for Paul’s trip. Then came the news. The sheriff filled Cade in as a law-enforcement courtesy.
Paul was dead. Killed in the hospital room.
Thinking about his friend’s slashed throat made Cade gag again. He’d thrown up twice since he got off the phone. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Cade counted to ten as he opened his mouth and gulped in fresh air.
He’d been right there in the room.
He’d dragged Paul into this mess.
Cade rubbed his hands up and down his pants legs but his skin wouldn’t warm up. The cold penetrated every cell. Whether it came from reaction or shock, he didn’t know. The result was the same. Someone murdered his friend. The same unknown someone managed to get the jump on a trained FBI agent.
The impact would reach everywhere. Color everything. Destroy so much.
Cade inhaled again, trying to keep the clog in his throat from coming up. Watching the blue water lap against the bank and the gray sky move in, his thoughts moved from one death to another.
Tad Willis had collapsed under the weight of the accusations. He didn’t fight. He gave in. Ann or Courtney, or whatever her name was these days, picked him as the killer and told everyone. The reporters called day and night. Neighbors painted words of hate on their garage door. Kids taunted.
The past Cade’s father tried so hard to hide boiled up and became an explanation for how he could wipe out an entire family. Being short on cash no longer stood as the household’s most devastating problem.
Cade’s regular world had exploded when his father’s name appeared in the papers. After a raging fight at the dinner table, he skipped out on school the next morning, snuck home and found his dad’s body in the bedroom.
The gun. The blood. The shocking red covered everything. The way it dripped down the wall, Cade thought it had to be paint. It signaled the end of his innocence and his father’s life.
Now there was more blood. Cade looked down expecting to see it drip off his hands. Paul had an ex-wife and a new fiancée. He’d had a life.
Cade’s thoughts wandered back to Courtney. He could trace every piece-of-crap thing in his life back to her. He brought Paul to town but Courtney, or something related to her, killed him.
She’d taken enough lives. She had to be stopped.
* * *
JONAS SAT at his dining-room table and tapped his pen against the wood. The rhythmic clicking soothed him. Exhaustion tugged at every bone in his body, but he fought it off. He needed answers. Courtney needed answers.
As if he conjured her up, she slipped into the room. She’d showered again, and the dampness still clung to the ends of her hair. Her navy sweats balanced low on her slim hips, teasing him with a sliver of skin between the edge and the bottom of her body-skimming T-shirt.
This time she wore glasses. The thin, dark frames gave her a naughty-librarian look.
He hadn’t been kidding when he said glasses were sexy on a woman. Or maybe he just thought it and forgot to actually tell her. Either way, he believed it.
“You dream about being a drummer?” she asked with a wide smile.
“What?”
She made exaggerated googly eyes at his pen. “Can’t place the beat, but I’ll probably hear that sound in my sleep.”
“Sorry about that. One of the hazards of being a bachelor and living alone.”
“It’s okay.” She sat in the chair perpendicular to his with one leg tucked under her. “I doubt I�
�ll actually sleep no matter how quiet you are.”
And he’d almost fallen asleep pouring his coffee. “After all that’s happened, how could you not?”
She shrugged as she drew a random pattern on the table with her finger. “I don’t need that many hours.”
“Need? It’s about how good it feels.”
She glanced up at him. “Oh, really?”
“Soft, warm.” He saw her breathing slow and heard the soft puffs of air leave her mouth. “After it’s over, your body is restored and ready to go.”
Her finger stalled. “Are we still talking about sleeping?”
Not even a little. “Sort of.”
The chair creaked when she flopped against the back. “About this attraction.”
That woke him right up. “I’m impressed you opened that topic.”
“I’m not wrong about… Well.” She swung her leg around in a circle. “I thought—”
“It’s taking all the control I have not to get up and bend you over the table. Does that answer your question on how I feel and how mutual this is?”
Her body froze. “Pretty much.”
“So?”
“You’re not my type. I’m guessing I’m not yours.”
He leaned back until the front two legs of his chair left the floor. “Wrong.”
“You like the bookish girls?”
She had no idea of her appeal. For the first time, he understood she lost more than her family that awful night long ago. He wondered if she realized how hard she was on herself. “I’m into the strong-and-pretty type.”
“Do I fall into that category?”
“You’re the star of it.”
“Men with guns make me nervous.” Her fingers wound together on her lap. She folded and unfolded them, her hands in constant motion.
“I get that.”
“To break the panic, I took some lessons and spent some time on a shooting range.”
Nothing about her surprised him. Rather than get swamped by fear, she fought it. It’s what he would have done. His admiration grew along with his attraction.
“Did it help?” he asked.
“The hyperventilating is gone. I can watch a shoot- ’em-up movie without throwing up.”
His gun was a part of him. Holding it was as natural as breathing, but he never forgot its power. “But seeing a real one is different.”
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