Chapter Twelve
Devers Residence
White Street
Brenda was tremendously relieved when Ben parked in the garage behind her house. No matter that an intruder had invaded her private space and planted a bomb to harm or, at the very least, scare her, this was home and she was glad to be home.
On the drive back to Five Points, Detective Shelton had called to inform Brenda that her property had been released.
The explosion was in the alley behind her detached garage, so there was no reason to hold her home or the garage hostage any longer.
Hostage was her word, not his. But at this point she felt as if she were being held hostage by whatever Scott had left them with.
The mere notion that he was alive and out there somewhere hiding while she endured this escalating travesty infuriated her.
Ben shut off the engine and turned to her. “When we go inside, let’s not talk until I’ve had a look around.”
Her gaze narrowed. “Does this have something to do with why you examined my cell phone when we got in the car to leave Scott’s house?”
He nodded. “I got the distinct impression that Agent Cummings was not being entirely forthcoming with us. It might be nothing but better to be safe than sorry.”
“Agreed.”
Brenda wondered as she emerged from Ben’s car if he’d ever spent this much time dedicated to an assignment. He’d been her new neighbor for a little over two weeks. If he was married, his wife probably thought he was never coming home.
After they exited the garage, she studied the man who walked ahead of her to the back door.
He seemed completely at ease with the length of time he’d been on the job here.
He glanced back and repeated that he should take a look inside before she went in.
All of this, she reminded herself, was just part of the job.
He was clearly not just an investigator. He was a bodyguard.
A bodyguard. The idea made her head spin. Not even one of her heroines had ever required a bodyguard. None had ever been the target of a bomb either. She might have to step up her plotting game after this. The research was certainly done.
She waited on the back patio while he unlocked the door, deactivated the alarm and walked deeper into the house.
Leaning against the doorframe, she considered that he didn’t wear a wedding band.
Never mentioned a wife or girlfriend. But then, maybe it was policy not to discuss his private life.
Lots of people didn’t wear jewelry at all. The missing band didn’t mean anything.
Still, a guy as nice and as good-looking as Ben Clark likely had a girlfriend. She was thirty-one. He was surely her age or a little older.
“The house is clear.”
The sound of his voice startled her, and she jumped as if he’d walked up and said boo. Her face flushed, which made her immensely thankful the light by the back door was not on.
“Thanks.” She went inside, moving past him in hopes he wouldn’t notice her embarrassment.
No reason to beat herself up for being distracted.
The past two days had been hardcore stressful.
Her mind and body were likely seeking release anywhere it could be found.
The thought of release had her mind going other places that she had not been in about a year.
Places she did not need to go under current circumstances.
“You want to order pizza or something?” he asked.
She dropped her handbag on the bench by the back door and turned to answer, only to find he was standing right next to her. She jumped again, couldn’t suppress the reaction. She really had to get herself together here.
He showed her his cell phone screen, where he’d typed a message but hadn’t hit Send.
Going next door for something. Be right back. Order pizza.
She nodded and said, “Pizza works for me. I’m thinking pepperoni.”
“Add olives, okay?” he said as he headed out the door.
“Sure.”
He slipped out the back door without a sound and left it partially open.
She made her way to the window and watched him hurry through the near darkness.
The shrubs and trees of her yard cast the neighboring house in deep shadows.
Since there was only one streetlamp on this end of the alley, it was mostly dark too.
She walked to the living room and checked out the front window in an attempt to see if that black sedan was still parked on the street.
She should have asked Agent Cummings if he had someone watching her.
She supposed he did. If not him, maybe Detective Shelton. After all, she was a suspect.
She walked back to the kitchen and made the call to the pizza shop a couple of streets over on Andrew Jackson Way. Making a call rather than placing the order online would help to fill the silence until Ben was back. The hold time had her wondering if she should carry on a pretend conversation.
“I’ll order soft drinks too,” she said aloud.
“You have ice?”
She jumped. Jeez, she had to stop doing that. She shot Ben a wide-eyed look that loudly exclaimed that he’d scared her half to death—again. “I do,” she said, instead of warning that her heart couldn’t take any more.
He gave her a contrite look and pressed a hand to his chest as if apologizing.
His reaction stirred one in her, made her want to feel his arms around her again.
Thankfully the crew member’s voice echoed in her ear just then. With too much of her attention still on Ben in the kitchen getting ice, then water in a glass, she somehow managed to place the order and end the call.
“Pizza will be here in half an hour.”
“Can’t wait.” He patted his lean waist. “I’m starving.”
She was too. She blinked, scrambled for something to say. She started to ask if she should round him up something to snack on to go with the water, but she reconsidered, realizing he was probably just making small talk. She really, really had to get her head on straight here.
When he started what looked like a new search of some sort, she wandered over and started to follow him.
They moved around the living room as he checked under lampshades, in and around electric outlets, under tables and basically about everywhere.
Once, then again, and again he removed something tiny—barely the size of a dime—and dropped it into the water.
The whole time he talked…about the weather…about anything and everything.
Then she got it. Her mouth fell slack. No matter that earlier today they’d been through the whole house, they hadn’t been looking for tiny items that might look like a button or a spot on the fabric but were actually listening devices.
Another went into the glass of ice water.
The scene was like something from a spy movie.
Brenda had actually read about clear listening devices—like little slips of tape—making them invisible once they were in place on a person or thing.
He made a rolling motion with his hand. Shoot, she was supposed to be doing the small-talk thing to disguise what they were doing. He’d done his share. Now it was her turn apparently.
She said, “You have family back home?” Since she’d allowed the silence to drag on too long, the sound of her own voice startled her. Or maybe it was the fact that he’d had to prompt her.
Sheesh, Brenda, you had this one job and you allowed distraction to get in the way.
Some spy she would make.
“I do.” He glanced at her and smiled. “My folks live in Naperville.”
She got stuck on that smile. He had the…most intriguing smile. Nice, but something more. Sexy. Yes, she decided. Very sexy.
“You?” he prompted.
There she went again, getting distracted. “My parents,” she said so fast the words almost came out as one, “were older when they had me. Sadly, they died when I was in college. I so regret they never got to meet Janey.”
Her sweet baby girl. Janey was what she should be thinking about now…not whatever this relentless urge was that kept tugging at her. She cleared her head and focused on the man whose job it was to be here doing what he was doing. This wasn’t personal and it certainly wasn’t intimate.
He considered her for a moment as if he’d read her thoughts. “That must have been a tough time for you.”
“Yes. My mother died first. She’d had heart surgery, but things didn’t go so well. There were complications, but no one realized until it was too late. Anyway, she was doing what she loved most—working in her flower garden. Janey is named after her.”
Ben smiled. “What about your father?”
“Dad was as healthy as a horse. I think he died from a broken heart. The two of them had been together for more than half their lives.” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she thought of her parents.
“Their relationship was the kind every couple should have. The sort of love you read about in romance novels. Deep respect for one another. They were amazing.”
“They sound like my parents.” That sexy smile was back. “Totally committed to each other. I wonder sometimes how it’s possible to love someone that much. It seems all-consuming.”
“God knows I haven’t figured it out,” she admitted. “I thought I had but I was wrong.”
He didn’t ask her to expand on the comment, and she was grateful. She could have left that part off.
They moved on to the kitchen. She didn’t actually have a dining room.
The previous owners had sacrificed it to make a larger living room with a wide cased opening that led into the kitchen.
Worked out fine for Brenda. She wasn’t a formal table kind of person.
She and Janey generally used the island.
“We’re young,” he reminded her, drawing her back to the conversation. “We still have time to find the right people to share our lives with.”
Watching his hands touch each item he reached for was almost as hypnotic as watching his lips move. She blinked and silently chastised herself. She must really be desperate for stress relief. There were plenty of reasons why she needed it, but this was not the time.