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“I would guess Ben was happy, as well,” Davis said.
She decided to ignore that but she did glance over. A strange whirring took off in her stomach when she saw Ben staring back at her. This time fear had nothing to do with the tingling sensation.
She cleared her throat. “So, when you were at the hospital, you were guarding someone you thought might get kidnapped?”
He sucked air through his teeth, making a hissing sound. “Uh, not quite.”
“He was guarding a killer to make sure his killer buddies didn’t take him out before we could question him,” Connor said, filling in the gaps left by the silence.
“Well, then.” She had no idea what to do with that bit of information. She settled for ignoring it. That was then and she had enough to deal with right now.
Ben shook his head. “Again, Connor. Tact.”
“Ignoring that, to the extent I can, how did this guy get into my house? I have double locks and...” Davis smiled at her. Connor stared at the floor. She got the distinct impression he was trying not to laugh. “Now what?”
“You want to tell her?” Davis asked Ben.
This couldn’t be good. “Someone should.”
Ben turned her so that she saw only him. “Locks are easy to pick. You really need a specialized security system if you want a true warning system and a chance to get away or get help.”
Her stomach plummeted to the floor. All those hours spent checking and rechecking the locks. Those nights she slept in the stale air because she was afraid to drift off with the windows open. None of it mattered because any sicko or criminal could just jimmy them open and walk right on in.
Well, wasn’t that terrific?
She took a deep breath and counted to ten. Her heart still hammered and her hands shook, so she tried it again. The audience didn’t help, but she would not let panic plow her under.
“Jocelyn?” Ben’s concerned voice slipped through her misfiring brain.
She concentrated on the counting.
“You still with us?” Davis asked.
She tried to block them out and duck the embarrassment. These guys handled guns as if they were born holding them. She was halfway to a full-on screaming fit at the idea of an unlocked window.
“I’m fine.” She strained to say the words and winced over the rasp in her voice.
“There’s no need to panic. You know now.” Davis glanced at Connor. “We can hook that up for her, right?”
“Of course,” Connor said.
She needed a minute and wanted to tell them not to worry. From the wrinkled brows and joint staring, she knew she was too late with that assurance.
“Okay, that’s enough safety talk for now.” Ben clapped his hands together and all eyes went to him. “No more alarm discussion. Doesn’t matter anyway because she’s not staying here tonight or anytime soon.”
The change in his demeanor from listening to taking charge stunned her. She’d seen him in the hospital as he chased down a guy with a gun, but when he talked with her, he had always kept his voice light and his mood friendly. He had flirted and stopped by the hospital and generally swept her off her feet with his charm until she had finally agreed to go to dinner. Since that had ended with a rescue, she was grateful, but the truth was she had no idea which version was the real Ben.
But she knew one thing that was not happening. Scared or not, she needed a bed. At this point she thought she could sleep right there on the barstool. “Well, I’m not sleeping in my car, so let’s figure something out.”
Ben’s inviting smile reappeared. “I was thinking my house.”
He had to be kidding. They’d had one date and it had ended in a bloodbath. Not exactly the best introduction for more time together. “What?”
“Not a bad idea,” Connor said. “We need to do some investigating here and clean up. I can keep Joel with me.”
Seemed to her they were skipping an obvious step, which was hard to understand, since hints were all around them. She held out her arm and swept it across the room full of people trampling through her stuff. “The police—”
Connor waved her off. “We’ll back them up on this one.”
“Why? This strikes me as being a bit out of your jurisdiction, and I’m saying that because I refuse to believe someone wanted to kidnap me.” Every time the thought entered her head, she pushed it right back out again. “He had the wrong place or something.”
Connor looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Possibly. We’ll talk that through with Willoughby.”
“Does it have to be him?” she asked.
“Detective Glenn Willoughby is the man in charge, or so he said when he introduced himself.” Connor pointed at the man across the room in the dark suit and no tie. “He’s new but doesn’t seem that hard to handle.”
