Phoenix was a presence, there was no doubt about that. Someone known, whispered about, wondered about. Someone who commanded the room simply by walking into it.
Our eyes met again, and this time his gaze lingered.
My stomach tickled.
A line of worry drew across his brows and he dipped his chin—are you still okay?
Yes.I nodded back.Thanks to you.
Two uniforms lingered outside my door, unaware of my presence in the vehicle. I cracked the window and strained to listen.
“… fresh scratches on the back door lock indicate a break-in. Looks like something sharp did it. Probably a knife.”
“No deadbolt?”
“Nope, just a handle lock.”
“Guy probably used a credit card to pop it. Tracks?”
“A few faded boot prints in the mud, but for the most part, the rain washed everything away.”
“Anything missing from the house?”
“Loose power cords in the bedroom suggest a laptop was plugged in, possibly taken. Dresser doors were open, as if someone was looking for jewelry. We’re working on the assumption that the homeowner confronted the intruder and that’s when things got ugly.”
“Stabbed to death I heard?”
“Yep. Pretty messy.”
“Any sign of the knife?”
‘That’s the weird thing… the wound doesn’t appear to be from a knife. More like puncture wounds…”
A pair of knuckles rapped at my door, scaring the daylights out of me. I looked for Phoenix—my bodyguard—but he was gone. I rolled down the window.
“Miss Floris, can you please?—”
“She already gave her statement.” Phoenix’s deep voice cut through the dark like a blade. Calm. Commanding. Unmistakablyhis.
He stepped from the shadows, and just like that, the air shifted.
“Mr. Steele.” The officer turned toward him—young, freshly pressed, and at least a foot shorter. A rookie, I guessed. “Good. I wanted to have a word with you, too.”
“I’ve already given my statement,” Phoenix replied, flatly. “To Chief McCord.”
“Who did you speak with?”
“Chief McCord,” he repeated, voice hardening.
“And you?” Willard leaned down toward my window.
Before I could speak, Phoenix was between us, nudging Willard out of the way and positioning himself in front of my window.
Incredibly—awkwardly—protective. Also, sexy as hell.
“Alright, guys…” Another voice broke in, smooth and calm.
“Detective Jagger,” Officer Willard muttered, clearly irritated by Phoenix.
