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But, back to snitches. Sometimes a target’s loved one winds up the body with stitches, and the means used to follow through on threats can be particularly ugly for a beautiful woman.
I rub my stomach while the officer who took the report gets an earful from Ben about the local PD keeping an extra watch on this home. Yeah, good luck with that. The local guys have fewer resources for that kind of thing than my agency, which, unfortunately, I have no grounds to involve. The criteria for our involvement simply aren’t met by present circumstances.
Anybody around here got some Pepto?
Agreeing to disagree, Officer Dalton shakes Ben’s hand and leaves, carrying bags containing the brick and the ugly note.
I receive a pointed stare from Ben. “What are you going to do about this, John?”
Do? Prickly stubble stabs at my palm. “Try to talk some sense into her, I guess.”
Sneaking a glance at Hollie, Ben lifts his cheek in a near-smile. He claps me on the back. “Good luck with that.”
Joining her near the kitchen door, he wraps Hollie in a side hug. I doubt he sees the flicker of discomfort, the something-deeper-than-circumstantial angst, darting through her hazel eyes. Does he feel the faint recoil?
Whatever he softly says deepens her frown and produces a headshake.
Yep. Trouble of more than one sort lies ahead.
Tracking him to the door and returning the clap on the back, I turn the lock behind him.
“Jacob will be home any minute.” The warble Hollie fails to hide makes another stab at the lining of my stomach, like a battering ram intent on destruction. She doesn’t deserve a single stitch of the trouble delivered to her doorstep.
That kid of hers…
Shaking my head at the accusation only I can hear and she wouldn’t appreciate, I turn the lock in the opposite direction. I doubt any bad guys will show while I’m here, and I’m more than willing and able to defend this ground—and the woman who owns it.
Widening my stance, folding my arms, I wait until her gaze surrenders to mine. “What are you going to do, Hollie?”
“Do?”
Don’t mess with me, woman.“You can’t stay here tonight.”
Her eyes squeeze, her head microscopically shaking. Something’s going on in that brain of hers, something I’ve a dozen arguments lined up against. “This is my home, John.”
“Could be your grave, too.”
Her gasp consumes me. The horror and terror that streak through her affect are another blow to my messed up system.
Should I ask if she has some of the pink stuff? Man, my stomach lining is eating itself.
My chin makes an abrasive sound when I rub it, stroking it like a genie’s lamp, as if it can deliver a magic solution.
On the floor next to the sofa, a red box, Blakely’s treats, snags my gaze. Instantly, Hollie’s vivacious smile and laughter that lasted only for a moment, fill my mind’s eyes. A magic solution? Yep, that’s what I want. I want to make everything right in Hollie’s world.
Shrugging out of my dark blazer and laying it over a recliner, I rest my palms on the top of the chair, methodically, deliberately, loosening my posture. This is too important to let my ugly side shoot it in the foot.She’s not one of your agents, jerk. She’s a lady in danger.
And I’m her knight in shining armor?
Okay, I’ll have a belly laugh later, but for now, her trouble is right up my alley. “Hollie, you better be taking this threat seriously.”
Gentledoes not come naturally to me, that’s a fact. Ordering, arguing, steamrolling—those are where my dials are set.And how’s that working out for you, John?
Depends on which realm of my life is in question. This crossroads, this merging of personal and professional? This is new.
I suck atthis.
I take a long, deep breath, hoping to slow my roll. “Would you be interested in my take on the situation?”
