Page 120 of Only the Hunter

“Keeping the story consistent.”

Ah. Definitely still pissed about my conversation with Scott. “Have you touched base with your dad?”

“No.”

“You’d better do that. You said you’d call when you landed.”

“He’s been texting.”

“Right.” I glance at her front door. “Do you want to go out with that guy?”

“Did you really tell your team you’re changing all of my locks without talking to me first?”

“It’s a smart move,” I say, wondering what the big deal is. “I’ve got the team updates. You’re going to need to set up a meeting.”

“You in charge of my schedule now too?”

Something about this feels familiar. The plane. The “strategic” comment. I don’t have time to chase the thought all the way down—not with a stranger just gone from her doorstep and a case that’s actively trying to kill her.

“Would you stop? We’re working the same case.”

“Are your locks changing?”

“I’m protecting you.” It’s all I can do to remain even-keeled.

“Log me into your portal. I’ll update myself.”

I file the thought about the plane away instead of finishing it. Later.

Together we stride upstairs and I log into our secure portal. Before I pass it over, I see that name—Dahlia Evans.

Evie sits at the desk, frowning.

I leave the room, wanting to call Quinn. I want her to look into Michael Harridan. Add him to the list. How did he know she was back? It’s suspicious. Or has he been stopping by every day in the hopes of her being home? Conceivable. Prick.

And if she wants to go out with him, there’s not much I can say. Seems I’m not doing anything right with her.

I’m losing her. We just crossed the line, and I’m losing her. I don’t know how to fix it without making it worse.

Keep working. That’s all I’ve got right now.

She’s mad at me. But that’s tough.

Because keeping her safe—well, figuring this out, while keeping her safe—matters more than anything. And with that thought, I do a security sweep.

I check the front door first. The deadbolt is solid, but the door frame itself could use reinforcement. I make a note.

Strong lock. Weak frame.

Protection means nothing if the structure gives.

Could I sell her on a new front door?

The back entrance—leading to the small lawn and parking area—has a clear sight line from the upper floor rooms across the alley. I’ve already told her to keep the blinds drawn. She doesn’t listen.

Upstairs, the strips of land between her townhome and her neighbors’ create blind spots. Anyone could stage there without being seen from the street.

I pull out my phone and text Quinn: Need exterior cameras. Three additional units. Motion-activated. I’ll install tonight.