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“How did he get in?” Mac growled.
Jethro looke
d up from the alarm he was checking against the monitoring device in his hand. Keying in commands, he began to run a diagnostic on all the alarms, tracking any anomalies that wouldn’t have shown up otherwise.
Finally, his gaze lifted, horror reflecting in his expression. “The bedroom alarm was deactivated and then reset without triggering the monitor. ”
“How?”
Jethro didn’t have time to answer. Keiley’s scream shattered the silence of the house, followed by the sharp explosive retort of a weapon.
“Keiley!” they screamed in unison as they hit the stairs, taking them two and three at a time as they rushed for the bedroom.
Mac reached the door first. Gripping the doorknob, he threw his weight into the panel, bursting into the room an inch ahead of Jethro, where both men came to a resounding, shocking stop.
Keiley’s head jerked around, the weapon held in both hands, white as a sheet, her eyes dark and too round in her face, her hands shaking.
Her gaze went back to the man lying on the floor, blood pooling beneath his body, then back to Mac.
The gun dropped from her hand, and before they could catch her she ran for the bathroom, sliding to the floor as Mac caught her at the toilet, where the violence and fear began to heave through her body.
Jethro knelt beside the fallen body, checked the pulse at his neck, and smiled. The smile was one of anticipation and pleasure.
He gripped the outstretched arms, jerked them behind the Playboy’s back, and was rewarded by a fractured cry.
“Oh, you’re going to live, aren’t you, my friend?” he asked the trainer with increasing triumph. “You’re going to live and you’re going to pay. And pay. And pay. ”
“Jethro?” Mac called from the bathroom.
“He’s alive,” Jethro called back as the sound of the front door breaking in caused him to wince. “Heinagen just took out your front door. ”
Jethro cursed as the sound of Keiley’s sobs reached him. He jerked at the trainer’s shoulder again, feeling a surge of furious pleasure race through him at the bastard’s pain.
A second later Heinagen and Sheffield rushed into the room, weapons drawn, to stare at Jethro in surprise.
“Cuff this bastard and read him his rights. ” He turned the moaning trainer over to Heinagen as he jerked restraints from the back pocket of his jeans. “This is our Playboy, gentlemen. Meet Wes Bridges, alias whatever the hell we can find on him. ”
Bridges moaned again as Heinagen restrained him and Sheffield made the call for law enforcement backup on his radio.
“How did you catch him?” Heinagen was breathing roughly. “How the hell did he get in?”
Jethro had to chuckle as he glanced toward the bathroom. The hell if he knew what happened, but the next time Keiley demanded to stay in a hotel, he had a feeling he and Mac both might be listening to her.
“Get him out of here, we’ll give you a report later,” he breathed out roughly. “Call the director and let him know we have our stalker. I want the D. C. bureau to handle this one. Keep him out of the hands of the locals, if you don’t mind. ”
“We have to inform them, Jethro,” Heinagen reminded him firmly.
“So inform them, but get the director on the line and tell him to get jurisdiction on this one. I want him in D. C. ” Jethro’s fists clenched as he gritted his teeth against the need to pound the life from the bleeding body at his feet. “Mac and I have this case. He goes home where we can interrogate him. Now get him the hell out of here. ”
He turned and stalked to the bathroom, slamming the door before he slid to the floor behind Keiley, where she was safely wrapped in Mac’s arms. He touched her hair, her neck, then let his hands grip her waist below Mac’s arms as he leaned into her, pressing his lips against her neck and whispering a prayer of thanksgiving.
She was sobbing raggedly, her hands biting into Mac’s shoulders, but as he touched her, one hand moved, gripped one of his hands, and pulled it around her, between her body and Mac’s, gripping it between her breasts.
“We have you, sweetheart,” Mac murmured raggedly, his own cheeks damp from the feeling of helplessness that swept through him.
That same feeling swamped Jethro. They had left her alone. They had let that bastard get to her. How the hell had he gotten to her?
“How?” He whispered against her hair. “How did he get in?”
