Despite the connections Kathryn and Jake both had at one of Colorado’s finest emergency room, it still took a while to prep her for imaging, capture the shots, and get a clean bill of health from the radiologist on duty. She rested a little easier to learn there was nothing of concern, and was relieved to be released.
Cradled in the upscale leather seat of his F-150 Raptor as he drove her to get her car, she glanced around the kickass truck, which provided a conversation starter. “So, Jake . . . what do you do?”
Worst post-hanky-spanky line ever.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he said, and she shook her head. “Guess.”
Unsure, she shrugged. “Construction?”
“Computer science,” he shot back with a ring of pride in his voice.
She nodded slowly, trying to make peace with the polar extremes of his personality, and he reached over to squeeze her knee.
“Hey, not all geeks drive Teslas.”
His hand stayed on her leg, preventing its uncontrollable bounce as she tried to carry on the conversation.
“How’d you get into that?” she asked.
She knew bits and pieces about Jake. Pretty much whatever she could learn after she’d returned to the States. He’d been part of a covert team. An action guy. So, her nervous question could be taken as natural curiosity.
His jaw clenched as he pulled his truck into the parking lot of the bar. He yanked his hand off her knee, frowning as he slowed his truck to a stop without a word.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” She reached for the door handle, but was stopped by his strong grip on her wrist.
His eyes remained focused on the sight straight ahead. “Stay here.”
With a flip, his high beams flooded her car in light. Kathryn and Jake stared at the lone car remaining in the parking lot, a Honda HR-V. As far as she could tell, everything seemed fine.
Jake reached over her to pop open the glove box and pulled out a Colt .45 ACP.
Okay, things aren’t fine. And that’s the biggest gun I’ve ever seen.
The handgun looked enormous compared to the 9 mm pistols Kathryn was used to handling. She only possessed a weapon when it was issued to her, whenever she ventured to dangerous assignments overseas.
His thumb flipped the safety. With a stern expression, he unlocked his cell and handed it to her. “Call Scott Delaney. And lock the doors behind me.” He waited for her acknowledging nod before getting out.
Worried, she quickly scrolled through his contacts, getting the detective on the phone and filling him in while she watched Jake check out the car. She couldn’t see whatever it was that alarmed him.
“He’s just walking around the car,” she said, feeling helpless as she watched. Her nerves hit a new high as he pointed the weapon at her car. The driver’s side. Then he slipped the barrel through the slightly ajar door and opened it wide.
All this fuss because I forgot to shut the door? I was in a hurry. And hungry. He must think I’m scatterbrained, irresponsible . . .
Or begging for a punishment.
Blushing, Kathryn decided she needed a dose of cool air, and hated keeping the detective waiting. About to open the door, she unlocked it just as Jake headed back. He climbed in and took the phone.
“Scott, you’re gonna need forensics. We’ll wait until you get here, but Kathryn’s still recovering from that blow to the head. She looks . . . flushed.”
Jake’s grin sweetened as his eyes locked on her. “I really need to get her home . . . Yes, she is. And she needs some rest . . . Okay, see you in a few.”
After disconnecting the call, Jake turned to her. “He’s in the area. He’ll be here soon.”
She nodded, feeling squeamish to ask why he seemed to be on high alert. Obviously, this wasn’t all because of a door left open. “What did you see?”
He huffed out a slow breath. “I’ll tell you, but not yet. How about we pass the time by you telling me what you’ve been up to. Specifically, what you’ve been working on?”
Her knee began another round of bouncing. “I’m an investigator. Insurance fraud. I . . . really can’t tell you much more than that.” She swallowed hard, apologetic in her defiance.
“So, you haven’t told anyone about the cases you’re currently working on? Not even your closest friends?”
“Never. It’s critical that I lay low. Otherwise, trails start vanishing and evidence disappears.” She shifted in the firm leather seat, angling her body to better face him. “But there is one I had to call around about. Maybe I spooked someone. Or—”
Blaring sirens closed in. The strobing red lights of two cars swept across the parking lot, then shut off.
As Jake opened his door, she grabbed his arm. “Your turn.”
His gaze darted to her hand around his bicep, and then to her eyes.
She pulled her hand back, certain she’d committed some major sub faux pas. Maybe I needed to ask permission first. Embarrassed, she crossed her arms tightly across her chest.
His eyes lightened at her response, and he slipped his hands in to unknot her arms. “Kathryn—”
“Don’t worry. It’s fine. I understand. I overstepped my bounds.”
“What?” His hands cradled her jaw. “No, it’s not that at all. I’m not your Dom here. I’m just . . .” His long exhale delayed what he was trying to get to. “Just protective. It’s disturbing. The scene. I hate what I’m about to ask, but I think you should look at it. With your training, you might catch something.”
He stroked her hand with his thumb as she watched the team surround the car.
“You think I’d catch something the cops wouldn’t?”
Shrugging, he said, “It’s, um, a hunch.”
She nodded. “Can you at least let me know what to expect?”
“Someone left one of your business cards on your front seat,” he said, and she waited, knowing the other shoe was about to drop. “With a knife stabbed through it.”
She sucked in a breath and tore from his grasp, scrambling from the truck and storming past the forensics team to the driver’s side of her car. The quiet, timid kitten just became an enraged mountain lion. Furious, she had to see the damage for herself. As she took in the scene, Jake’s hand slipped through hers.
“I understand it’s upsetting.”
“You bet your ass it’s upsetting,” she shouted. “The son of a bitch sliced my brand-new custom-leather seat. This car is only a few weeks old. Motherfuc—”
“Kathryn,” Jake said calmly. “This is a new car, so it locks automatically when the key fob is out of range. Where were the spare keys?”
She blanked, and blindly stared back. “They were in my desk drawer, but now that I’m thinking of it, I didn’t see them when I checked for anything missing.” Her eyes fell shut. “Dammit, he has my keys.”
“It might be a she,” Delaney said, interrupting as he stepped up to join them.
Confident, she shook her head. “Not a chance. The only reason women cut up any part of a car is out of jealousy, and trust me, the stab wounds wouldn’t stop at one. And I haven’t been with a guy in . . .”
Jake stepped forward, crossing his arms with a smug grin.
“Anyway, the point is, odds are we’re dealing with a man.” She peered at the seat. “That’s my business card, all right, and,” she leaned in closer, “that’s one of my kitchen knives. But . . .”
Trepidation set in as she squinted, studying the scene harder without disturbing the evidence. Her expression fell as the reality of what she was looking at dawned on her.
Jake’s hands squeezed her shoulders, his warmth sinking in. “What is it?”
Her breath shuddered, spurring him to rub up and down her arms. Nothing about it was sensual, just caring. In an instant, all his tenderness brought out her emotions. Determined, she fought every impulse to fall back and take comfort in the arms of a man she barely knew, yet someone she had way too many feelings for.
She shrugged him off, determined to stand on her own two feet, and glanced at the detective. “Can I see your pen?”
Delaney handed it over. She made sure the ball point was retracted to avoid any marks, and slowly outlined the area where the cardstock surrounded the knife.
“See that rim of caramel coloring? Right where the knife meets the paper?”
“Yes,” Delaney said, nodding.
She struggled to calm herself, though her pounding heartbeat was doing its damnedest to shut down her ability to speak. “I know where it came from. I had an apple just before my shower . . . before I met my friends here at the bar. I took a knife from the butcher block and cut the apple into slices, then set the knife in the sink. When I came back to the kitchen, I saw a box of Ziploc bags out, but I’d been tidying up so much, I figured I just missed them.” She looked at the men. “That’s my knife, and the guy grabbed it while I was showering.”
“He might have grabbed it much later,” Delaney said calmly.
Sadly, he was wrong.
“He used the Ziploc to carry the knife. It prevented fingerprints. But it also kept the juice from the apple from drying, which would have happened pretty fast with how dry Colorado is. That’s the discoloration—the caramel stain where the knife meets the card. Simply put, it’s oxidized apple juice. You need to go back and dust my place for prints again. There might be new ones.”
Jake took her hand firmly, not giving her the option of letting go. “And you need a safe place to stay. He doesn’t just have your spare car keys, Kathryn. He has a set to your condo as well. I know somewhere you can stay, and it’s more secure than Fort Knox. State-of-the-art security system. Limited entry.”
Her weak head shake was instantly halted by his hand cradling her cheek.
“I insist.”
Exhausted, irritated, and on the brink of a major breakdown, she gave in with barely a nod. “Can we drop by my place for an overnight bag?”
Delaney held up a hand. “The two of you aren’t going alone. I’ll have an officer meet you there. We’ll check it out first, and you can go in while we dust for prints again.”
Jake wrapped his arm firmly around her, only releasing her to help her into his truck.
* * *
With Jake on her heels, Kathryn stepped in her front door and shivered, noting that her cozy condo had turned strangely cold.
Unfamiliar.
Frightening.
The kitchen was just as she’d left it, except for the missing knife now firmly planted in her car seat. But her gaze fixed on the counter. The empty counter. Where the box of Ziplocs had been.
Could the creep have left and come back to retrieve them? Not a chance in hell. The asshole had been there the whole time. She had to have been within a foot or two of bumping into him in her own hallway earlier.
Kathryn retraced her steps, her solid resolve slowly crumbling as she realized she hadn’t closed the bathroom door fully when she showered. Her arms tightened across her chest, holding in her shiver. Shoving down her fear to keep her tough-as-nails facade took a lot more than a few deep breaths.
Pull it together. The bastard is messing with your head.
Jake entered the kitchen, but she slipped past him, avoiding his eyes at all costs.
“I’ll just need a few minutes to pack.”
His hand swiped across her arm, but she ignored it.
Weeping, she tugged her sleeve to her eyes, losing the war against those stubborn tears. Her thoughts were way too preoccupied to focus on what to take. For all she knew, she’d shoved eighteen pairs of panties in her bag, and not one top or pair of pants. But it didn’t matter. The bag was packed, and her head was killing her. So, with her overnight bag in one hand and her pounding head in the other, she slowly stepped out of her bedroom.
The bastard got my keys, just to fuck with me. What else did he do?
Wandering through her condo, she scanned room after room, and stopped at her new laptop. Her finger skated along the top, tracing several circles on the surface as she thought. Blowing out a breath, she dropped her bag to grab some aspirin.
“Something wrong?” Jake asked.
“He didn’t take it this time.” Filling a glass with tap water, she popped the pills, then continued. “I’m guessing he knows he can’t do anything with it without my access codes. I don’t trust it.”
“You’ve got amazing instincts. I’m living proof,” Jake said with half a grin that she couldn’t help but return. He tapped the computer. “How about I take a look?”
“No, don’t worry about it. I’ll just have my company send me another one to wherever it is I’ll end up.”
“I’m happy to check it out.”
Without waiting for her approval, he tugged the power cord free from the wall, looping it around his hand, and tucked the laptop under his arm.
Her smile of amusement said it all. Her head hurt too much to fake her skepticism. “Look, that’s very sweet of you, but—”
Grinning, he extended his hand, taking hers for a shake. “Oh, I’m sorry. We haven’t been properly introduced. Jake Russo. Veteran. Truck lover. Whiskey drinker. And lead cyber investigator for global technology corporation Excelsior/Centurion.”