Chapter Fifty-One
“Someone’s in the house.” Jane couldn’t move—but Chance could.
“Clothes on, babe.”
An unknown person had entered the huge house. She didn’t know where or how or why. But the answers weren’t good.
“Jane.”
She jerked from her panic. “What?”
Somehow magically dressed, he tossed her clothes and paced for the eternity it took for her to redress.
“Come with me.” He pulled her to his side. “Stay close.”
Thank God that Chance, the resident white knight and protector, would know what to do. Though, truthfully, she should know too. They’d had drills before, and she could make it to a safe room with her eyes closed. Yet, she felt like they were moving in slow motion.
Chance led them to the first-floor office that the security team kept. He reviewed the security system panel with a quick gaze and flipped a switch. A wall of video footage came to life.
She didn’t see anything but empty rooms. There wasn’t even a stray cat roaming the grounds—not that there would be in a place like this.
His fingers flew over the keyboard, silencing the alarms, and explained, “Back of the house. Looks like a sensor activated on one of the sliding glass doors.”
She scanned the monitors. “There’s no one there.”
“Right now,” he pointed out. “They could have left. That loud-ass alarm is a hell of a deterrent.” He tinkered until he found a video prompt and rewound the footage. There was nothing to see. “What the hell.”
“Yeah,” she muttered. “Should I call the gatehouse? They might’ve heard it, and—”
A phone rang on the desk beside them. Chance picked the receiver up without hesitation while she stared at it as though they were in a horror movie and the call was coming from inside the house.
The conversation consisted of one-syllable agreements that could’ve doubled as grumbles or grunts.
The distant wail of police sirens stole her attention.
“Yeah, we hear them. Thanks.” He hung up, took her hand, and after a quick review of the monitors again, he led them toward the back of the house.
“It’s shut.”
“And still locked.” He tugged on the locked door to be sure and then flipped the latch and slid the door open.
Jane followed behind him as he stepped onto a patio. The evening summer sky was filled with purples and oranges. If the alarm hadn’t just blared, she would’ve thought the setting ideal.
Chance walked to the edge of the patio and then glanced over his shoulder. “Are there many false alarms?”
She shrugged, only having heard drills. Those were apparently conducted at half the volume of real alarms. “I don’t think so. I don’t know.”
They walked back inside. Chance continued to check the rest of the house while Jane headed toward the front door, where the police were banging and announcing their presence. She rushed, certain that the paparazzi had come in with their cruisers.
Sure enough, an arc of cameras pointed toward the home, filming and snapping the police cars with their lights spinning as she opened the door.
Several police officers filed in, and Jane pointed them toward Chance. After a brief discussion, most of the uniformed officers did a thorough check of the house, finding the same thing Chance had found—nothing—while two others followed Chance toward the security office.
Gigi was going to freak out. Jane found her cell phone and sat in the kitchen, wondering if this news would come better as a text or phone call. Really, she’d only know the correct answer if she knew Gigi’s current mood. Jane checked her social media and found nothing.
Another knock came from the door, and a man announced himself as “from the alarm company” and then bustled by her. He knew where the office was, so she assumed letting him in was okay.
Jane decided to call Lark before Gigi, but Jane only got Lark’s voicemail. Well, hell. She needed to let the Thanes know. Jane called Gigi and then Dax. Neither answered. Of all the days for everyone to go quiet.
Chance, the alarm company man, and the two officers returned to the living room, announcing that a faulty sensor had expired.
The alarm company said they would send someone out to repair it in the morning, and the officers said they’d tell the photogs it’d been a false alarm.
They all knew it was wishful thinking to hope that would send them away.
If Gigi and Dax were home, they’d be on the front driveway preening for the cameras.
Even the most newbie gossip hound would believe there was a problem if the Thanes didn’t make an appearance.
Jane assumed everyone would clear out as fast as they’d arrived. But she’d been wrong. An inordinate amount of care was taken to make sure the precious mammoth house was safe and that the reports were as detailed and well-written as could be mustered on electronic tablets.
Several hours later, around midnight, Chance and Jane walked the remaining police to the front door, thanking them as they left.
Cameras flashed. Videographers rolled next to their day-glow lights perched on tripods.
Jane hadn’t peeked at the gossip blog websites, but she knew tonight’s excitement had made the news.
Before the last of the police cruisers rolled away, a gray Tesla pulled up the driveway.
“What timing,” Chance muttered.
A roar of questions from the celebrity press pool ignited as Dax and Gigi parked in the center of their driveway—a first—and posed for pictures while saying, “No comment.”
Jane and Chance slipped back inside the front door, spying from a side mirror. The Thanes relished the onslaught of the cameras and questions, and Jane noticed they both had perfect hair and makeup. Weird look for a late-night while on vacation.
The front door opened, and Gigi called for her without coming in.
Jane groaned and trudged toward the commotion. She absolutely hated when Gigi used her as a pawn in her act.
Chance stayed close behind her, and when they entered the foyer, the snapping camera lights behind Gigi sparkled like tiny explosions.
“Oh, Jane!” Gigi grasped Jane’s shoulders, smoothly angling them for the perfect picture. “We came as soon as we got notice! Is everything okay?”
Jane tried to tell her that everything was fine, but Gigi didn’t appear to be listening.
Instead, she turned toward the reporters, pressed a hand to her neck, and expounded on the terrifying events of the evening.
“Just had a small break-in. Of course, very frightening, but we’re all okay.
Everything’s insured, of course, with Thane Insurance, and thank God our son wasn’t here.
Something like that would really scar him for life… ”
Right, a broken sensor would scar him for life, but a Syrian refugee camp was all fun and games? Jane glanced at Chance. He remained off-camera and rolled his eyes.
Gigi didn’t let Jane go as she continued to speak until Dax stepped forward.
Gigi swiftly moved to him as the cameras swung his way.
Jane inched back, unable to turn away. Their entertainment value was sickeningly addictive.
She listened to Dax add his commentary and a rather lengthy tutorial on the importance of having a great insurance policy to cover one’s home.
Ridiculously, the camera crews ate it up.
Finally, after the reporters had gotten their fill of the Thanes, they thanked them and waltzed in the front door, waving like they were walking a red carpet.
“Well, hello.” Gigi abruptly stopped in front of Chance, giving him a head-to-toe inspection. “You’re my new security man?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Jane saw Chance shift uncomfortably. She didn’t know if it was the way she spoke about him or the appreciative way she studied his body.
“Yeah.” He extended his hand. “Chance Evans.”
“I see. You’re very photogenic. You’ll do just perfect.” Gigi held her hand out as though she wanted him to kiss her knuckles. Instead, Chance gripped her awkwardly extended hand and gave it a quick shake. The corner of Gigi’s mouth tightened downward. “I see we have some work to do.”
Before Jane could break up the uncomfortable exchange, Dax approached and shook Chance’s hand, speaking in his gruff-man voice, but still talking a mile a minute. “Yeah, man. Good to have you here. Thanks for all the help with the situation overseas. You’re a good man to have around.”
Chance couldn’t get a word in, but from the look on his face, he didn’t want to.
There was no doubt that he was ruing the day he’d accepted the Thane assignment.
If he thought they were bad now, all he had to do was wait.
Jane didn’t put it past Gigi to insist Chance wear face powder or prance around shirtless or whatever she thought might get the miniseries better ratings.
Whatever was going to happen, it definitely would get a lot worse before—she stopped herself before thinking that it would get better. Because it wouldn’t. The job would end. Chance would leave.
Their time playing house and imagining their football teams of children was officially over.