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I agreed with that and moved on. “Is this your house?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I saw men’s clothes when I cleared upstairs. Who’s living with you? A boyfriend?” Why did I dislike that idea? Because it would make it harder to protect her with another person around—yeah, that sounded like a good reason.
She laughed. “No. Those are my brother Vincent’s clothes, but he’s not here much. Although on paper, the house is technically Dad’s.”
“Two Benson Castle LLC?”
She rolled her eyes. “It was a compromise to get released from Dad’s house. I had to live with my brother, and Dad had to approve the neighborhood and the house.” She shifted to a mock baritone. “It’s not safe for a young woman to live alone in this city.”
I nodded, not because I agreed, but because I’d begun to understand her efforts to put distance between herself and her overbearing father. My disgust with him grew with every word.
Serena was an adult, but her father treated her like a child, and that would grate on anybody. Picking out a dipshit boyfriend for her, dictating where she lived? This strong woman deserved better.
Leaning against the counter, I stuck my hands in my pockets. “You could have moved out and told him to stick it.”
“And be accused of breaking up the family? No thanks. That would devastate my mom.”
I found it interesting that she put her parents’ feelings ahead of her own. “Do you feel well enough for a drive?”
“I guess.” She was probably running on fumes, but I couldn’t leave her alone.
“You lost your phone in the accident. How about we start by going to retrieve it and your purse from the sheriff’s office?” I wanted a look at her message and call history for clues.
She perked up. “My purse?”
I nodded. “I expect so. They would collect obvious personal items of value. I also want to see that note.”
That spark reappeared in her eyes. “Good. I can’t lose my wallet.”
“Go find some shoes, and I’ll take you.” With all the money her family had, why was she worried about a few bucks in her wallet?
Serena
The viewfrom the passenger seat of Duke’s tall Suburban was so much better than from my low car. As I’d told them, I wasn’t a car person, but I’d read the emblem on the door. As the traffic went by, I crossed my fingers that my wallet would be at the sheriff’s station. Then, I looked over at my driver. When he returned my glance, I saw eyes that had softened from the warrior eyes he’d worn when he’d first barged into my house, determined to root out any intruders. Yes, Duke Hawk was a man of many facets.
The city went by in a blur as he drove us through the streets of west Los Angeles, and the episode with Mr. Black Jacket Guy played out in my head on repeat. I kept checking the mirror on my side.Any black SUVs behind us?No, but I did spot a half dozen in other colors.
The car search kept me from rehashing Duke’s reaction to the flowers and to having seen Vincent’s clothes upstairs. There’d been a flash of something akin to relief in his eyes when I’d explained about dipshit George and my brother. Maybe it was his professional reaction to reducing the suspect pool, orjust maybe it wasn’t. At some point, we’d have to talk about the note I’d given him that last day of camp.
I went back to watching the cars around us. What if the guy had taken his SUV through a car wash and rinsed off the watercolor black paint, leaving it blue or brown underneath? I’d seen a movie where the bank robbers did that, so it was possible.
Or I was paranoid. That was also possible. The telltale shake reappeared in my leg.
“What are you nervous about?” Duke asked.
“He’s still out there. That’s what.”
“And what about that makes you nervous?” he asked.
“Don’t you ever get scared?”
“Sure, everybody does. I didn’t mean you couldn’t be nervous. I’m just curious what you’re nervous about.” He seemed determined to usenervousinstead of scared, a word choice clearly meant to be soothing.
“Do you think he’ll try again? I mean, he came pretty close last time.”
“Are you nervous that I won’t be able to stop him?”
