Chapter 14 #2
I shifted my head an inch to see Charlie standing over us, arms crossed over her chest, glaring down at Evers, her eyes annoyed but her mouth stretched in a shit-eating grin.
Evers let out a huff of air. "I decline to answer the question on the grounds that it's going to get my buddy in trouble."
"He did know. That weasel. He's too good at keeping secrets." Charlie moved to the end of the hall by the kitchen and Evers' head popped up. "Don't. Stay here until Lucas gets back."
"Why? Do you think there's anyone else in the house?"
"No. I don't, but I'm not taking any chances.
Lucas is doing his thing, Riley is leading the team securing the house.
You're staying right here with us until one of them comes back to give us the all clear.
There's enough to keep track of with all those guests out there, we don't need to make it harder. "
"Cynthia—" I started to say.
Evers cut me off. "Cynthia is fine. I have two guys who won't let her out of their sight."
Griffen appeared at the end of the hallway "Lucas hasn't come back yet."
"Is he—?" Charlie asked, nerves in her voice for the first time.
"He took two guys with him," Griffen reassured.
"I've got ears on him," he said, tapping a discreet earpiece.
"He's fine, just trying to catch the guy who got in.
Cynthia's covered. No one out there has any clue.
We've got two teams sweeping the house, all exits secured. We can move Summer upstairs."
He’d no sooner finished speaking then Evers was rising, holding me in his arms as he stood and strode down the hall.
"I've got your shoes, Summer," Charlie said from behind us.
"I can walk," I said to Evers.
"You can, but you're not going to.
I tried not to be relieved. I needed to get back to the party. Back to work.
My body had other plans. Taken on their own, none of my injuries was that bad. A sore stomach, a bruised shoulder, a twisted ankle, a bump on the head. All together they left me feeling as if I'd been hit by a truck.
Evers set me down on my bed and put the ice pack back on my ankle. Over his shoulder, he said to Griffen, "Call Whitmore."
"She's a little banged up. She probably feels like hell, but she doesn't need a doctor," Griffen said.
"Call him anyway," Evers insisted. "She hit her head when she fell."
Griffen ignored him and strode to the side of the bed. He leaned over, nudging Evers out of the way. Turning on the bedside lamp, he said, "Open your eyes and look up at me, Summer."
He studied my eyes for a moment. "Close them." I did. "Open." I did. "Pupils are reacting normally. Nausea?"
"Not really. Right after he hit me, but not now." I said.
"Take a deep breath." I did. My chest was sore, but my lungs were finally cooperating again. "Again."
After two more full breaths, Griffen nodded. He held up a hand, one finger extended. "Follow my finger." He moved his finger from side to side, then up and down. "Blurred vision? Dizziness?"
"A little dizziness," I admitted. "No blurred vision."
He flashed three fingers. "How many?"
"Three."
He tested me a few more times, threw some math at me and pronounced me in need of a painkiller and a good night's sleep.
"She's fine," he said to Evers, patting him on the shoulder.
"You're not a neurologist," Evers muttered.
"She doesn't need a neurologist. She's fine. You had it a hell of a lot worse than Summer, and you let me stitch you up. Relax."
I twisted to look at the scrapes on Evers' neck, mostly hidden by his collar. I reached out to touch them, and he caught my hand.
"You didn't tell me you needed stitches," I said, irrationally angry that he'd hidden how bad it was.
"I didn't. That was another time," he said absently, still holding my hand in his, his thumb rubbing my knuckles. "Don't you have something to do?" he asked Griffen.
Griffen sent me a wink and a grin. Then, more seriously, he said, "If you start to feel sick, your headache changes, you have any drainage from your nose or ears, confusion, or blurred vision, let Evers know.
Basically, you should feel better from here, so if you feel worse, we'll take you to the hospital. Otherwise, I think you're fine."
"Thanks, Griffen."
He lifted his hand to his forehead in a jaunty salute before he disappeared through the door.
Charlie wandered to the window and peered through into the dark night. Mostly to herself, she murmured, "I like not knowing what he's up to when he's in the field. It's easier. I hate sitting here and waiting."
"He can handle himself," Evers reassured.
"I know," Charlie said with a sigh. "I know he can. I'll still feel better when he's back and I can see that he's fine."
She paced for what seemed like an hour, but was probably less than twenty minutes, stopping only when the door opened and Lucas walked through, Riley behind him.
Lucas met Evers' eyes and shook his head. "Lost him. I waited too long, but I didn't want to leave Summer alone when we didn't know what was going on."
"You did the right thing," Evers said immediately. "We'll have to check her office to see if he got anything else, or just the laptop and phone."
For the first time reality sank in. My laptop and phone were gone. Stolen. I had everything on them. What wasn't on my laptop was on my phone.
I reminded myself to relax. They were both backed up. Getting a new laptop and phone was an added expense, and inconvenient, but it wasn't the end of the world.
I didn't bother to ask. I already knew the break-in had nothing to do with Cynthia. Someone interested in Cynthia would have gone straight for her. Instead of my office, they would have headed to her bedroom to raid her lingerie drawer. A few years ago, she had a stalker who'd done exactly that.
Her housekeeper had walked into her bedroom, a stack of clean, white sheets in her arms, and screamed bloody murder when she saw a portly little man with a goatee pawing through Cynthia's underwear drawer, his pockets stuffed with wisps of silk and lace. Yuck.
After that, Cynthia had kicked up the security. This wasn't about her.
No, whoever it was had gone straight for my laptop and phone. I didn't have any digital information worth stealing. Somehow, I didn't think he was after the contents of my modest savings and investment accounts.
If he was looking for proof of contact with my father, he was out of luck. Smokey Winters wasn't the email type, and he hadn't called me in weeks.
"How did he get away?" Evers asked.
"The best we could tell," Riley said, "he went over the wall like some kind of goddamn spider monkey. It looked like he had the laptop strapped to his back and he just—" Riley mimed climbing. "By the time we got to the other side, he was gone."
"Fuck."
"Summer need a doctor?" Riley asked.
"No," I said, struggling to sit up. "Griffen said I was fine."
Evers turned, giving me a sharp look. "Don't even think about getting up. Keep that ice on your ankle and stay where you are."
"Bossy," Charlie said under her breath, earning a tiny giggle from me and scowls from all of the men in the room. She rolled her eyes at me and I smiled back.
"I have to get back to the party," I said. "Cynthia—"
"Cynthia is covered," Evers said shortly. "Nothing is going to happen to her. I'm staying here with you."
I opened my mouth to object, then took in the resolve in his ice-blue eyes, the mulish set of his chin, and kept my mouth closed. I didn't have the energy to argue with Evers, but more than that, I didn't want him to leave.
I was tired and beat up. Exhausted and scared.
Evers made me feel safe.
I didn't understand myself.
I didn't trust him. I was still angry with him.
And when I thought about who I wanted most, the answer was Evers. Only Evers.
I wished that this time it wasn't about a case. That this time it was about me and not his job.