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That evil bitch got me again.
Chapter Eight
Final Boss-Level Dangerous
Bang, bang, bang.
I shot a dirty look at the ceiling before continuing to sweep drywall dust and white paint flecks off the dark wooden floor of my downstairs office and into a dustpan. The PSI tech team had arrived bright and early with scads of boxes and power tools, getting a layout of every inch of the property inside and out before getting to work. Vaguely I knew the work entailed installing cameras and panic buttons. Now, however, I was learning that all this extra hardware meant drilling holes into my walls—which they promised to patch and repaint once the job was complete—and making enough noise to wake the dead.
As much as I hated the feeling of having my privacy invaded, I was now fully invested in getting this crap done the PSI way, and that apparently meant putting my entire life on CCTV. Thankfully one of the tech guys had given me a list where all the cameras and panic buttons were going to be located. That made me feel a bit better, but there was no getting around the fact that from now on, I was going to be under someone’s watchful eye.
Nothing in the world could make that okay.
BANG, BANG, BANG.
“Oh my freakingGod,” I muttered, glancing leerily upward once more. They were clearly in my personal office now since they were directly overhead. I sighed, moving to dump the drywall dust in the waste basket. They had to be more than halfway finished, I tried to console myself. It wasn’t even noon, and they’d already completed the ground floor. The upper floor was less square footage to deal with, not to mention the list I’d been given showed that no cameras were going to be installed in my bedroom, thank God. Maybe, just maybe, they’d be gone by the time I had to take a Zoom meeting with a client at three. I’d even mentioned my meeting to the man who’d given me the list, but he’d only said to keep to my schedule as if everything was normal, and not to reveal that I was wiring my place to be a high-tech security fortress. Personally I thought it might be a deterrent to scream from the rooftops about how serious I was when it came to catching my stalker, but I also understood their perspective. If my pain-in-the-ass stalker didn’t know about all the added security, he wouldn’t know to avoid it, and that could lead to his quick capture.
God, I hoped that was how this whole rotten scenario played out. I didn’t care who or what got this guy anymore. I just wanted the bastard gone.
The sound of the front doorbell froze me on the way to the kitchen pantry where the broom and dustpan usually lived. Dropping the items at the kitchen’s threshold, I headed for the foyer. But before I could reach for the knob, a large, café au lait hand snaked out and curled around the knob but didn’t turn it. Quickly I glanced up at the owner of that hand and found myself looking into flat gray eyes hooded under winged black brows.
Aha. The man who had given me the list of camera and panic-button placements, and the one who seemed to be in charge of all the tech dudes. Ethan Something. Ethan meant firm, strong, enduring and long-lived.
But at the moment, he just looked peeved.
“Did you look through the peephole, Ms. Steadfast?”
I did my best to blast him across the room with the magnificent power of my glare. Sadly, he didn’t so much as quiver. So much for my magnificent power.
“Please call me Eden, and I always look through the peephole, Ethan.”
“Yet I just watched you reach for the handle before you even got to the door, Ms. Steadfast.”
So, it was going to be like that, was it? Fine. “If you’ll notice the height of the peephole, Ethan, it’s quite a bit higher than my natural line of sight. Since giants obviously lived in this house before I did, I have been forced to go up on my tiptoes to see through the peephole every time that bell rings. When I do, I balance myself by holding onto the handle before looking out. Call me Eden, please.”
“Ms. Steadfast, we will be sure to fix the height of the peephole in your door before this day is through, because you should never put a hand on that knob until you know who’s on the other side.” Clearly we were in a power struggle over how he should address me, but I was somewhat mollified when he looked hard at the door, then at me, then took a carpenter’s pencil from his back pocket and marked a solid X a good three inches below the peephole. “Stand back, please.”
“Of course. And please call me Ms. Steadfast.”
That got me a swift look, one I met with a cheeky grin. I wanted to cheer when his sculpted lips twitched in an almost-smile before he turned his nearly shaved head back, looked through the peephole and opened the door. “May I help you, sir?”
Honestly, these military types were a hoot.
“Uh, I don’t know if you can, but Eden certainly could.” Looking torn between poleaxed and fascinated, Kelsey Crosby stared first at the no-nonsense, hugely muscled man crowded into my front doorway, before shooting me a wide-eyed look. “I take it there’s a new man in your life?”
“Several, actually. Kelsey Crosby, may I introduce you to Ethan… forgive me, I didn’t catch your last name?”
“Echols. You,” he added, pointing at me, “may call me Echo. Do you want Mr. Crosby to come inside?”
I had a feeling Ethan—or Echo—would drop-kick Kels to the other side of the street if I asked him to. “I would love for Mr. Crosby to come inside. Is this allowed?”
“Of course. He’s on your list of trusted people.”
“Don’t I feel special,” Kels murmured, sliding past Echo with another goggle-eyed look before holding up a cardboard tray loaded with coffee cups and slices of pumpkin bread. “The temp’s not going to get out of the fifties today, sweetie, and I know you love your pumpkin spice lattes, so I came bearing gifts to celebrate the first chilly day of the season. Is, uh, there any place in this entire structure where we’ll be out of the way so we can talk, or…?”
“It’s way too loud in my downstairs office for easy conversation, so let’s stick to the dining room. Hopefully we’ll be able to have some peace and quiet there.” Giving Echo a nod of thanks, I dragged Kels through the foyer and into the dining area next to the U-shaped, open-plan kitchen. “My nerves are just about shot, so you showing up is an absolute godsend. I’d tackle-hug you, but I don’t want to spill any of that coffee. Gimme.”
“I’ll give you all the pumpkin spice lattes in the world if you’ll tell me about the cutie who answered the door just now.”
