The “slayer” as Jewel calls him, actually lives in this building, or has intimate access to someone who lives in this building. And if she’s right, and this person has been watching her for two years, that’s a whole new level of fucked up and dangerous. “If the stalker is in the building,” Asher says, “we need to get you the fuck out of there, Jewel.”
“We’ll call you back, Asher,” I say, disconnecting the line and focusing on Jewel. “He’s right. Pack a bag. You’re coming to my place. You’ll be safe there.”
“We need to think about this. And I know that your first reaction is to protect me. That’s your job and—”
I stand up and press my hands on the arms of her stool again. “Don’t do that,” I say. “Don’t turn us fucking into me using my job to get you naked.”
“No. Jacob, I didn’t mean it like that. My point is that your first instinct is to protect me, to take cover and guard me. My first reaction is to go door-to-door and question everyone because I’m not a civilian. I don’t react to things like a civilian.”
“You’re human. You die, just like everyone else.”
“I know that. Believe me, I know that. I’ve seen enough in this job, to know stupidity doesn’t pay. That’s why I said that I know I need help. But I’ve also learned, that every action has a reaction. Showing brute force, and driving the slayer into a hole for another two years isn’t protecting me. And the idea that he might live in the building has holes. It doesn’t explain the card at my office. No one here could get inside there.”
“You don’t know that the card is connected.”
“We don’t know a lot of things. We’re going with my gut and my gut says that the card is connected. And if I’m right, then somehow this person has access to be wherever I go.”
“All right. Assuming you are right, this is exactly why you need to be with me, at my apartment. The Walker building is a fortress.”
“If I’m right and that card was from him, then he says I’m ready now. Ready for what? This feels like a game and he knows the rules and we’re just charging down the field, perhaps running in the wrong direction.”
“Staying here could be the wrong direction.”
“He’s playing a game. The messages indicate his desire to have me play, too. If I’m there, the game is over. At least for now. He’s patient. He’s proven that. He’ll be back when you’re gone.”
“When I’m gone,” I repeat, and those words illogically bug the fuck out of me. I just met Jewel, but I damn sure don’t want to give her up right now. I push away from the stool but she grabs my T-shirt. “You’re not gone now,” she says, as if she’s reading my mind. “I do need you. And your gun.”
I cup her face. “Yes. You do need me.” I kiss her, a quick slide of tongue, before I add, “And my gun, as well as my team. Walker Security includes some of the best in every field of law enforcement. We’re going to talk to them. We’re going to come up with a plan we all agree on. Non-negotiable.”
“Non-negotiable,” she says. “You know, you’re more of a control freak than me. I think that might be a problem for us.”
“As long as I win all arguments,” I say, my hands settling on her shoulders. “It won’t be a problem at all.”
“You need a name tag that says: Controlling Asshole to warn people.”
“Why would I want to warn anyone? And your eyes are bloodshot again. You need to go lay down and kick that headache.”
“I don’t need to lay down. I need—”
“To lay down. You’re human, detective. I get that you pretend that you aren’t to the rest of the world and I even get why you hide the headaches, but use me, remember? Nap and I’ll kill anyone who tries to join you that isn’t me. In the meantime, I’ll send off the prints, arrange some conversations with the team, and get us some damn groceries ordered.”
“I don’t—”
“You do. You’re in pain.” I tilt her head back. “It’s okay to be human,” I repeat. “I won’t tell if you don’t. I got you. I got this. Okay?”
She inhales and lets a breath out. “I—I don’t know how to do whatever this is we’re doing.”
“Neither do I but I have confidence that we’re both smart. We’ll figure it out, but after you get rid of this headache.” I pick her up and start walking.
“Are you really carrying me?”
“Yeah. I’ve never carried a woman who wasn’t bleeding or in the middle of a warzone. I thought I’d give it a go.” I enter the bedroom and cross to the bed, setting her down on top, and sitting down next to her. “Take a nap.”
“You aren’t as hard as I thought you were.”
She hits a nerve, and I lean over, pressing my hand to the bed on the opposite side of her head. “I am hard, Jewel. I’m heartless. I’m demanding. I’m not as gentle as I was with you today when we were naked and I’m not as gentle as I seem right now. If you make me something other than that, I’ll disappoint you. I’ll hurt you. And I don’t want to do that.”
I stand up and start walking toward the door.
“Jacob,” she murmurs, pain in her voice that stops me in my path.
“Yes?” I ask without turning, because I really just want to strip her naked and show her how not fucking gentle I am.
“If you were as hard as you say you are, you wouldn’t care if you hurt me.”
I grab the doorframe and shut my eyes. She’s right. I don’t know what the hell she’s doing to me, but there’s a heart in my chest I forgot existed. I turn to find her eyes shut and her weapon now by her side. Because she doesn’t know she doesn’t need it. She doesn’t know she’s safe with me. And I have to decide if I want her to feel that safe with me. I have to decide if I really want to open the door between us that damn wide.
I cross the living room and to the island and open my computer, keying it to life, while I dial Ash again. “Are we convoying her to Walker?” he asks when I answer.
“We’re not doing anything until we talk this through. Where’s Sierra?”
“She’s right here with me,” he says, he hits the speaker button. “You’re on live with wifey.”
“Hey Jacob,” Sierra says. “What’s happening? How can I help?”
“First,” I say. “Let me bring you both up to speed.” I run through the entire story with them. The man. The gifts. The notes. The umbrella connection. The limited description.
“Holy fuck,” Ash says. “Does Savage know any of this?”
“No. I need you to update him and tighten her father’s security. This person, this man if Jewel is right, is fixated on her, but that doesn’t mean he won’t go after her father to hurt her.”
“I don’t like the idea that he has access to her at home and at work,” Sierra says. “This is very concerning, but I reluctantly agree with Jewel. We need to think through reactions to our actions and be ready.”
“Right,” I say. “But doing nothing isn’t an option either. I don’t do the sitting duck routine unless I’m luring in my prey. Which is where you come into play.”
“I’m listening,” she says.
“I need you to talk to Jewel later this evening, and between the two of you, decide how our actions become reactions for this freak.”
“I can do that. When?”
I glance at the closed door. “Jewel can’t do it now. I’ll call you when she is free.”
“That works for me. That gives me some time to take notes and write out some questions for her.”
“Until then,” I say, “for the next however many hours, all her slayer can possibly know, is that I’m working with Jewel, and that has lead to us getting up close and personal. The team needs to stay off the radar until we analyze the facts, and we all, Jewel included, decide what comes next.”
“Let me remind everyone that someone who lives in that building is helping him. There is no other way or other option. They key in their code, and drop the gifts in the shadowed area. That also means they understand the camera placement and limitations.”
“Which means educated and intelligent,” I say. “Someone involved in technology or crime scene processing.”
“The latter feels more on target,” Sierra suggests.
“Agreed,” I say. “And circling back to you, Asher, and those gifts. I have the newest one that needs to be checked for prints.”
“I doubt we will get a hit,” Asher says. “But we have to try. Order food. We’ll deliver.”
“I’m going to order groceries because a man cannot live on cereal with no milk,” I say.
“Milk does the body good,” Asher says. “But so does other things.” He clicks off speaker. “I heard your tongue somehow got in the pretty detective’s mouth. How personal has this gotten for you?”
My lips thin. “I don’t do personal.”
“That fucking personal, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say, because he gets me. He knows me. “That fucking personal.”
“First, I got your back and hers. But I cannot help but state the obvious. The Tin Man actually has a heart and a weakness. I am, in fact, going to hang up and savor that for just a moment.” And he does. He hangs up.
I grimace and set my phone down, pressing my hands onto the counter. Why the fuck did he have to call her a weakness? That hit a nerve. I swore I’d never have a weakness again when I left the clusterfuck of my last few months in the army. She can’t be a weakness. That means I have feelings for her. I just met the woman, but Jesse Marks, or no Jesse Marks, I damn sure can’t walk away from her, either. I need to get Jesse Marks out of the picture and I need to catch this bastard stalking her before I get any deeper with Jewel.
I glance at the umbrella, aware that the team is waiting for an excuse to pick it up. Focusing on my Mac, I pull up a local grocery delivery site, keying in my account. I order enough food to last for several days, but if I have my way, we’ll be at my place by tomorrow.
Or better yet, I think, refocusing on the umbrella, the slayer will be gone, one way or the other. Jewel is right. He’s following a path. Her friend. Her mother. Her uncle, by way of that card at her office, where she aspires to be just like him. I walk to the refrigerator and stare at that note and focus on the words. You’re not ready yet.
It’s as if her uncle spoke to her from the grave. Her uncle is the center of this. I text Ash: Look at the uncle. His friends. Co-workers. Anyone in his life.
Already thought of it, Ash replies. On it.
I grab the box filled with his files and I start typing a list of every name associated with each case. We need to search those cases for connections to Jewel, her mother, her friend, and her father. Hell, we need any case he ever worked, but the ones that were on his desk seem the most relevant and a good start. I email Asher the list, and then text him: See email. I sent you a list of the uncle’s cases, to cross reference to every fucking thing you can.
Got it, Asher replies. EVERY FUCKING THING I CAN.
“Smart ass,” I murmur, and stick my phone back in my pocket.
I’ve just started a cup of coffee brewing when a soft three-punch knock sounds on the door, a Walker code that tells me the groceries have arrived, delivered by one of our men. I cross to the door and open it to find Adam, master of disguise that he is, no longer in his suit and tie. He’s now in ripped jeans, a baseball hat turned backwards, sneakers, and his favorite New York Jets Jersey. “I better be getting a good damn tip,” he murmurs, shoving the store bags at me.
“Here’s your tip,” I say, handing him the umbrella. “But as an added bonus. The Jets Suck. Join the Pats club and actually win.” I shut the door on him and lock up before putting away the groceries. I glance at my watch. Fuck. Jewel’s been asleep for two hours. My gaze lifts to the shut bedroom door. She’s not a weakness. She’s a job. That’s what this should have stayed. That’s how I protect her. I grab a bottle of water and think of the homeless man that was following her that most likely wasn’t a homeless man at all.
Suddenly, I don’t like her closed bedroom door, or how long it’s been shut, one fucking bit. I start walking toward her room.