“And why didn’t you two clowns come out to check the property then?”
My sudden devolution from cool to caustic shocked at least one of them into a response. “Because the cameras only went down for a second,” he protested. “Whoever did it fed in a loop for ten minutes to cover their ass, and then they were gone. Would’ve taken a genius to spot it. Only found it now because someone looked back at the tapes, checking where you said the glass was cut.”
“Sounds to me like anyone with an eye on the damn monitor would’ve spotted it,” I said, and then added, “I want that video,” over their grumbling. “You call in now and tell your tech buddies to email it over to Mr. Beaumont.”
“We can’t—” began one, and I pulled my sunglasses down and looked at him.
He just about sprinted up the driveway to the car, where he grabbed a radio handset to call it in.
* * *
After we’d seen off the rent-a-cops, we reset the alarm, locked up, and organized a glazier. I taped some heavy plastic from the storage room over the hole in case the storm came through before the glazier could get there.
And then we got back into Miller’s car, where he sat staring through the windshield with his hands on the wheel but made no move to start the engine.
I watched him sitting there for a few minutes, admiring his profile in relief. “You want me to check the undercarriage again?” I asked after a while.
“Huh?” He blinked and shook himself. “Sorry, I…I was just thinking about the last time I was here. Annie and I had this huge fight…” He cleared his throat. “But before that, I used to be over here all the time, with the Flames as well. It’s weird to see this place without Annie in it.”
I grunted a reply, but I was lost in my own thoughts. If pros were involved, there was no telling what toes I might be treading on. What toesMillermight be treading on. Plus I only had another few days to force a break in this case.
Miller, I decided, was coming home with me.
For protective purposes only, of course.
“So here’s the thing,” I said, keeping my tone conversational. “You can’t stay alone tonight.”
He’d been reaching to poke at the button-operated handbrake, but he paused to look at me. “What do you mean?”
“I mean your sister’s disappeared and someone broke into her house, and I don’t want you staying alone tonight.”
His fingers drummed against the wheel as he thought it over. “Okay,” he said. “I can stay with Nate.”
Something inside me objected to how easily he’d suggested it. So much for my knight-in-shining-armor play. “Is Nate’s place safe?”
“Yeah. It’s out in the Valley and there are alarms and stuff. And there are always, like, twenty guys hanging around the place.” Off my look, he said, “Nate’s boyfriend is Brent Elwood.”
Brent Elwood. Infamous gay porn producer. I took a closer look at Miller, who gave me an exasperated glare.
“No,” he said. “Before you ask. I haven’t starred in one of his films. I don’t need workthatbadly.”
“No judgment if you had,” I said with a shrug. On the contrary, I would have handed over my credit card details so fast… “Come on, let’s get out of here. It’s getting late.”
It was against my instincts to let him stay with someone other than me. Someone who might not have a gun, or if they did, might not have the grit to take the shot before things went from bad to worse.
It was difficult to kill people, even when they were assholes. Even when they deserved it.
But staying at Brent Elwood’s place would still afford Miller some protection—and the fact was, I had to go to work that night, anyway, to keep Legs Liggari happy. Miller would be safer in a millionaire’s mansion than he would be holed up in my shitty apartment.
I kept telling myself that as Miller drove me home, and I tried like hell to keep my mind off the idea of him starring in some skin flick.
CHAPTER19
MILLER
I drovefast with tight turns back to Jack’s neighborhood, and we both stayed silent the whole way. It had been a hell of a day. I was exhausted, scared for my sister, and not looking forward to spending the night at Nate’s—or more properly, at his boyfriend’s place. Brent Elwood was a sleazy jerk in my personal opinion, although I hadn’t shared that with Nate.
I’d half-hoped Jack would have offered me his couch instead. But all he said when I pulled up outside his apartment block was, “I mean it, you can’t keep coming here in this damn car. Make sure you park it down at Enrico’s next time.”
