He’d made a great impression the day before, clearly. “Hope asked me to come out and speak to you.”
“About what?”
“Security of some description.”
“You’re a cop.”
“I freelance.”
“There’s been a misunderstanding. I don’t need any security.”
He stepped back. “Maybe you should call Hope?” Her gaze flicked past him, over his shoulder, and he turned around. Hope’s car pulled into the drive. “Ah, okay, there she—”
Behind him, the door shut with a firm click.
“—is,” he finished to himself. He crossed his arms and waited for Hope to join him on the porch.
“Hey,” she said as she jogged up to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here before you.”
“No worries. But …” he jacked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the front door. “I take it she wasn’t expecting me?”
Hope gave him an apologetic smile that probably worked wonders on Ryan. It didn’t move Dean in the least. “Possibly yes.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s going on, Hope?”
Her smile shifted to something more sheepish. “Let’s go inside.” She reached for the door handle, but the door didn’t open when she turned it. She tried again, then started to laugh.
Dean didn’t see how it was funny. The woman on the other side was quickly proving to be difficult.
“Liana!” Hope raised her voice and knocked. “Don’t be like that!”
Thud. Something heavy hit the other side.
Great. Now she was resorting to violence to make her point that she wanted to be left alone.
Too bad being left alone probably wasn’t an option, because he was down with turning around and heading back into town.
He sighed and rubbed his jaw. Not the right attitude in the least. Giving them some space, on the other hand… “You want me to come back later?”
Hope shook her head. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“So Zander said.”
She nodded, a worried look rippling across her refined features. “She needs to be on a plane to Washington tomorrow.”
“This is for a concert, right? Can she get out of it?” Maybe the woman was unhinged. She’d said she wanted a break from reality. Maybe she needed a trip to one of those fancy-people rehab centres, if only to hide from the world for a bit. “Call it exhaustion. Make up some excuse.”
“It’s complicated.” Hope rubbed her fingers against the furrow that had taken up residence between her eyebrows.
That was becoming a standard refrain. “I’m not sure what we can do here if she won’t even talk to me. What’s the problem, exactly?”
“I think she just needs to know that she’s got someone watching her back.”
“Is she in danger?”
The door swung open, Liana standing in the triangle of open space. Hope stepped in and gave her a quick hug, whispering something that made Liana scowl. Her hand was braced on the edge of the door, like she planned to slam it in his face any second.
He held out his hand, trying again for the introduction they didn’t get through the first time. “Ma’am, I’m Dean Foster.”
