Love Inspired Suspense June 2015 #1 (3 page)

“Then let me drive you to your house.”

“I was trying to point out the extent of my exhaustion with exaggeration. I'm perfectly fine to drive myself. I'm not going to fall asleep at the wheel. In fact, with all that has been going on today, it may take hours for me to go to sleep.”

He chuckled. “I know that feeling. My body is exhausted but my mind is racing a mile a minute.”

She had to fight the urge to respond to his charm. Life lessons from her childhood taunted her. She would never be like her mother, depending on others, depending on alcohol to make it through the day. “This is not going to work.” She stepped back again and encountered the open driver's door.

His expression sobered. “Seriously, I would like to escort you home. Someone took your house keys today. You should have your locks changed.”

“Believe it or not, I've thought of that. I know how to take care of myself. You should have seen the neighborhood I grew up in. The total opposite of Erin's childhood. My branch of the Eagleton family are the black sheep. I have a locksmith coming to my house in—” she checked her watch “—an hour. I need to be there so he can change my locks, so if you'll excuse me, I need to be going.”

“Have it your way.” Nicholas moved away from her white Mustang.

When she slipped behind the steering wheel, she inhaled a calming breath and started her car. As she backed out of the parking space, she noticed Nicholas open the rear door of an SUV only three vehicles away and wait for Max to jump into it. She went through the security checkpoint with Nicholas's black Tahoe a vehicle behind hers. When she turned right, he did, too. Her grip tightened as he continued to follow her.

Although she had nearly a full tank, she pulled into a gas station. Nicholas came up behind her.

She shoved open her door and marched back to his SUV. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Escorting you home the best way I can.”

Her head pounding, she opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind, but when she couldn't find the words she wanted to say, she snapped her teeth together, then spun on her heel and stalked to her Mustang. Fine. He could waste his time “escorting her home.” That didn't mean she would talk to him or even acknowledge his presence.

As she continued her drive to her house in Arlington, she kept looking back to see if he was still behind her. Although it was too dark to see his face, she imagined his pleased expression for following through with what he'd wanted to do. There was one part of her that felt like a suspect being tailed and another part that warmed when she thought about him trying to protect her from the person who'd taken her keys—for what reason, she had no idea.

In college she'd had her purse snatched on campus when walking back to her dorm from the library late one night. She had been so angry she'd chased after the guy, caught up with him and tackled him to the ground. A campus cop who'd rushed to her aid had lectured her about the risk she'd taken. She supposed it had been foolish, but her reaction to being robbed was automatic. She'd come from a tough area of Washington, DC, and had learned to stand up for herself.

Selena pulled into her driveway and stared at her house, her first, earned by hard work after years of studying and being at the top of her class at school. She was going to prove to her uncle she wasn't like her mother and was willing to work for everything she got. She didn't want a free ride from him or anyone.

Her porch light illuminated the front part of her redbrick two-story home with white trim and green shutters. Hers—as of six months ago. She noticed Nicholas had parked at the curb and exited his Tahoe. He came around the hood. She quickly grabbed her purse, took a spare house key from the bottom of the driver's seat and climbed from her Mustang.

“That's as far as you need to go. You've escorted me home.” She waved toward her house. “Nothing is amiss. You can run along now.”

He planted his feet apart, crossed his arms and said, “Not until you go in the house to your front window and wave to me. Then I'll leave.”

“What if I don't?” the imp inside her asked.

“Then I'll stay here all night.”

His determined look drilled right through her. “You're impossible.”

“It comes in handy when I deal with stubborn people.”

“You think I know where Erin is.”

“Do you?”

“No.”

“Then I believe you.”

“Really?”

“I told you I would be honest with you. I'm worried about you. I think something is going on. It might be connected to the Jeffries case or something else. I don't know. Miss Chick today went to some trouble to get your keys. Why?”

“To rob me?”

“There were a lot richer people there than you.”

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Maybe they thought I was wealthy since Senator Eagleton is my uncle. When you catch the person, ask her.”

“I will. Nothing was taken from your purse in your office, so it wasn't that kind of robbery. Could the person have been after something—”

“I don't need a protector,” she interrupted, remembering all the times she alone had protected herself from the predators in her childhood neighborhood. “I've been taking care of myself most of my life. Go home. Look out for yourself.” Frustration churned her stomach.

“Just as soon as I know you're safe inside and the locksmith has arrived.”

“Now you're putting more conditions on your leaving.”

“What can I say? I changed my mind.”

Clamping her lips together, she pivoted and strode toward her porch steps. As she mounted them, the feel of his gaze on her back made her shiver. For most of her life, she had been the only one who took care of herself. What would it be like to have someone who cared?

No! I won't go there
. At times, she wasn't even sure the Lord was there anymore. As a child she'd sought refuge in the local church, latching on to the promise that God loved her. But did He? While growing up, she'd been so alone.

Absorbed in thoughts of the past, she unlocked her front door and moved into the foyer. One look into the living room and she froze.

THREE

S
elena stared at her trashed living room then, beyond at the dining room and part of her kitchen. What if the intruder was still here? She sidled toward the table nearby and pulled open a drawer. Keeping her eye on the staircase to the right, she felt for her revolver. When her fingers encountered the barrel, she quickly clasped the handle and withdrew it.

“What do you think you're going to do with that?” Nicholas's deep voice sounded from the entrance.

She glanced over her shoulder. “Defend myself. The person could still be in here.”

“Put it on the table before someone gets hurt.” Nicholas drew his gun.

“I know how to use it.”

“I don't care.”

She did as he ordered, actually relieved he was here. She must be more exhausted than she thought.

“Now, go outside, open my tailgate so I can call for Max, then you're to stay on the porch while Max and I search the rest of the house. If the locksmith comes, have him wait with you.”

Selena nodded then headed to his Tahoe and released Max. She'd been around the rottweiler enough to know he was a well-trained dog. He could be fierce, but she wasn't afraid of him.

“Come,” Nicholas said from the doorway.

Max trotted toward her house. Selena followed behind him and stopped at the top of the steps, gripping the post, trying to ignore her headache.

“Check it.” Nicholas disappeared with Max into her house.

She lost sight of them when the pair went up the stairs. With only two bedrooms and a bath on the second floor, they were back in the living room within five minutes.

“Do you have a basement?”

“Yes. The stairs to it are next to the back door.”

He and Max vanished around the corner into the kitchen. The whole time they were gone, her heartbeat thudded against her rib cage, her breathing shallow. What if the intruder was hiding in the basement? Or there was more than one person? When minutes later, Nicholas and Max rounded the corner and crossed the living room, she sagged against the wooden railing, not realizing until then how tense she'd been while they were checking out her house.

“Does the rest of my place look like the living room?”

“Yes. You'll need to go through your home and let me know what's missing. I'll contact the local police about what happened, but since this might be connected with the White House break-in, I want to deal with it.”

“I'll do a walk-through tonight, but I'm too tired to do more than that.” The past weeks finally wreaked their havoc on her.

“Why don't you wait until tomorrow. In fact, go to bed. I'll take care of the locksmith, dust for fingerprints since this is tied to a theft at the White House and stay until he leaves. Okay?”

She hesitated, so tempted by his offer.

“I'll make sure everything is locked up.” Nicholas's gaze strayed to something beyond the porch.

She swung around and saw Mr. Lamb, the locksmith, park his van behind Nicholas's SUV. “I can't go to sleep until I know the locks have been changed. I want all three door locks replaced even though I only had the front one on the key ring.”

“You might also think about getting an alarm system.”

“Believe me, I will tomorrow.”

After talking with the locksmith, Selena made her way upstairs and changed into a pair of sweatpants, a large T-shirt and slippers. Her feet were screaming pain and demanding she sit, but she was afraid if she did, she would never get up, any surge of adrenaline she'd experienced from the break-in subsiding. After her locks were replaced, she would send Nicholas and Mr. Lamb on their way, do a brief walk-through to check if anything was missing, then collapse into bed with her revolver on the nightstand.

* * *

Selena's eyes popped open to a semidark room. A dull ache still gripping her head, she glanced at her digital clock on the bedside table: 7:00 a.m. She rolled over and tried to go back to sleep since the chief of staff had told her to take the next two days off. But after twenty minutes, she gave up.

Thoughts of what the intruder was looking for kept running through her mind. While Mr. Lamb changed the locks, she'd gone from room to room, checking if anything obvious had been stolen, but nothing was missing. Her computer was there but obviously had been handled by the intruder. She'd have it checked to see if something had been added or deleted. Her TV and a few pieces of nice jewelry had been untouched.

After seeing Nicholas out the door and locking it last night, she'd trudged up the stairs, and in spite of being totally drained emotionally and physically, she'd lain awake for another hour until exhaustion must have finally taken over.

Still dressed in her sweatpants and T-shirt, she finger combed her hair—because she didn't want to scare her neighbors—and headed downstairs to fetch her
Washington Post
. Her morning ritual always included savoring the newspaper with her coffee before she started her day. After she prepared the brew and it began to perk, she walked to the front door, opened it and nearly fell over Nicholas stretched out in a sleeping bag against the threshold to her home. She teetered over him.

He reached up and steadied her.

“What are you doing here?” She scanned the porch. “And where is Max?”

He rose, stretching and rolling his shoulders. “I'm making sure you're safe. Max is at the back door guarding that entrance.”

“You didn't say anything about that last night. I saw you walk to your SUV.”

“To get my sleeping bag.” He grinned, a dimple appearing in his cheek. “I did leave your house, but I couldn't completely go. I would have never forgiven myself if the intruder had come back.”

She marched past him and snatched up the newspaper at the bottom of the stairs, then retraced her steps. Planting herself in the doorway, she blocked him. “You didn't need to do that. I doubt the person would come back.”

“Have you noticed anything missing?”

“That's what you really want to know. Admit it. That was the real reason you stayed.”

“Only one of the reasons. I am concerned about your safety.” He drew in a deep breath. “Ah, coffee. May I have some?”

She twisted her mouth into a frown, trying to be perturbed at the impossible man. But she couldn't. “One cup. Then you'll leave. I have a rare day off and want to...” What? Relax? Which had been her original plan until someone broke into her house. She glanced at her living room and knew that wouldn't happen until she cleaned it up. The only way she got everything done was to be highly organized; she wouldn't rest until this mess was taken care of.

“Could you use help putting this back the way it was?” Nicholas gestured toward the living room.

She opened her mouth to say no, then chuckled at how ridiculous that sounded. “My mama didn't raise no fool.” Actually, her mother hardly raised her at all.

“I take that as a yes.”

She nodded. “Come in.”

Nicholas entered and shut the door. “I almost forgot. Mr. Lamb gave me the bill.” He dug into his pocket and pulled it out. “I didn't want it to get lost in all this clutter.”

She'd forgotten all about the bill last night. She'd been too focused on Nicholas prowling her house while Mr. Lamb worked. “Thank you. He would have sent it to me.”

“You're welcome.”

Pushing some clutter out of her way with her foot, she padded across the wooden floor to the kitchen and poured two mugs full of coffee. “Let's have it outside on the patio. I won't relax if I keep looking at all this. Besides, Max might want some water. There's a bowl on the counter. Use that to give him some.”

“You're certainly a take-charge kind of woman.”

At the back door, she peered at him. “It pays to be in my job since so much of it is planning various events for the president. He expects the best from his staff.”

Nicholas filled the bowl with water. “Yesterday really showcased your talents. Everyone I saw was having a great time. Even Margaret Meyer. I don't think of her as having a sense of humor.”

“Speaking of the general, won't she expect you at the White House this morning?”

Nicholas frowned. “I'll let her know I'll be in later. Dan can start looking at the security tapes.”

“Dan is helping you with my case?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you on it? I see Dan's role.”

He averted his gaze for a long moment, then said, “Another office was broken into yesterday. There may be a connection.”

Her face drained of color. “General Meyer's?”

He remained quiet.

“I heard there was a ruckus around her office. You know how rumors can fly around the White House. And you do work for her.” Her eyes widened. “If you think there might be a connection, it has to be over the Jeffries case.”

“No comment at this time.”

She opened the door and stopped. Max, much like Nicholas, was lying down across the entrance into the kitchen.

Nicholas stepped over his rottweiler and put the bowl down on the patio. “Drink.”

Selena watched Max saunter to the bowl and lap up the water. “You have to tell him to drink?”

“He waits for commands when we're on the job. When he's off duty, he does what he wants.”

On the job?
She guessed she was a job to him, especially if he thought she knew where Erin was. She tried to dismiss the thought but she couldn't. It hurt. “I wish I could get the people working under me that well trained,” Selena finally said when she realized Nicholas was peering at her with that sharp, assessing look. Her heartbeat accelerated, and she sat in one of the chairs at the glass table.

“That's the result of months of training as well as continual refresher courses.” Nicholas took the seat across from Selena.

“He's beautiful. I've never been around a rottweiler until you came to the White House. Does he live at your place when you two aren't on duty?” She had to remember he was probably as distrusting as she was. Most people in law enforcement were.

“Yes. All the dogs in the Capitol K-9 Unit stay with their partners when off duty.”

“I've never had a pet even as a child. And now I work all the time, so it wouldn't be fair to leave an animal alone so much.”

“I had any pet I wanted.”

There was a tone in his voice that indicated there was more to that statement than what he was saying. “So what did you have as a child?”

“A dog named Butch and a horse called Dynamite.”

“So you rode, too?”

“Yes, I lived on a farm in Maryland growing up. I'd go riding whenever I could and Butch always followed.”

His childhood was vastly different from hers. She'd grown up in Washington, DC, in the area that wasn't technically slums but close. “What did your family grow on the farm?”

“Nothing. They had some horses and that was about it.”

“Some? How big was the farm?”

“Two hundred acres. In some people's book it was more an estate than a farm, although Thoroughbred horses were raised there.”

“But not you?” Again she sensed an underlying tension in his voice and saw the stiffening of his shoulders.

“The house I grew up in was a mansion. A person could get lost in it. But to me it was only a place to sleep at night.” A touch of bitterness laced his words.

Definitely a far cry from where she'd lived as a child. The biggest apartment she ever lived in was three rooms, if you counted a bathroom she could barely turn around in. “You didn't like your home?” she asked before she could snatch the question back. She had no business prying into his past. She told no one about hers.

“It wasn't a home. My family's business was a large import/export company. My parents were rarely there. Their work took them all over the world.”

When her mother had been gone, it was because she was drinking and would disappear for days. “You never got to travel with them?”

“No.” His mouth snapped closed, and he averted his face, staring at Max sniffing around the yard. “I noticed your flat-screen TV and laptop are still in the house, so what would someone be looking for? Do you have any other valuables?”

“Not much. I've poured all my money into this house. I bought it last year and have slowly been fixing it up the way I want. It's the first place I've really called home.” The words slipped out before she could stop them. She quickly added, “I lived in apartments while going to school and my first couple of years working in the White House,” as though that would explain why she'd never felt at home anywhere before she'd bought this place.

“That's how I feel about my house in Burke. As a Navy SEAL I traveled a lot and lived on base, but now that I'm working for the Capitol K-9 Unit, I can put down some roots.”

“Do you have to do much traveling? I know you come and go at the White House, but I figure you're working on a case.”

“Although I'm assigned to the White House, I'm at headquarters for briefings, coordination with other team members, running down leads and training sessions with Max.” Nicholas took a sip of his coffee, his gaze connecting with her over the rim of his mug.

“The locksmith changed my locks last night, so why did you and Max stay?”

“It was late when Mr. Lamb left. By the time I went home, I'd probably only get a few hours' sleep before coming back here this morning.”

“But you had to be uncomfortable on the porch.”

“As an ex–Navy SEAL, I'm used to sleeping on the hard ground. I slept great because I was on your porch. If I'd left you, I'd have worried about you and probably not slept at all. It's traumatic for a person to discover her house was broken into. I wanted to make sure you were okay and whoever did this didn't come back. As I mentioned yesterday, I'd recommend getting a good alarm system today. Mr. Lamb put on sturdy locks, but they only go so far. Having a dog wouldn't be a bad idea, either.”