If Harper Connellyhadbeen the one to walk so brazenly into Miller’s house, what did that mean? I went one further and hypothesized that she wasalsothe one sneaking around Nate’s place out in the Valley,andthe one who had broken into Anaïs Beaumont’s Malibu house. What did that tell me?
That she was a highly-skilled professional housebreaker who’d shot dead a good friend and now wanted to take out the twin brother as well? For shits and giggles? Or because the Bernardis had ordered it?
I just couldn’t see a reason for herorthe Bernardis to come after Miller. He’d had no knowledge of his sister’s dealings with the burglary ring, and Rochford had been the one person in town who seemed to know that Anaïs and Miller didn’t talk anymore, which meant the Bernardis should know it as well.
I made my way into the restaurant. There was a line, and I let someone with a screaming toddler go ahead of me—to the whole store’s relief, it seemed—before ordering our meals, and heading back to the car.
I’d been gone forty minutes. If I drove back slowly, took my time parking on the street, climbing up the stairs, I could make it an hour.
I wanted to make sure Miller had all the alone time he needed.
* * *
I’d stretched it out to sixty-three minutes, based on my watch, when I mounted the stairs that led up to my apartment door. I climbed slowly, a hand on the railing, and then I paused halfway up, because I could hear Miller’s voice.
Shit. He was still on the phone. I’d come back too soon.
I hesitated, and then I quietly turned and started back down the stairs. I could give Miller another five minutes. The salads would hold up that long.
But as I began to descend, I heard another voice, lilting, amused, and familiar. Familiar in a sickening, gut-punch way. But it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be…
And then he laughed, that cold, high laugh that was unmistakable, and Iknew.
It was Julian Castellani.
There was a fucking crazy and obsessive assassin in my apartment. In my apartmentwith Miller.
I’d left him alone, and nowmymistake was going to end up getting someone else hurt all over again. Getting someone elsekilled.
Because why else would Julian Castellani be making house calls?
My first instinct was to charge right into the apartment, but I second-guessed it. Sudden surprise was not the way to go with Julian. I reached down to set the food bag on one of the steps, and then I crept up to the apartment door. I glanced over my shoulder at my neighbor’s door, but as usual at this time of day, her place seemed dead.
I took out my gun and put my hand on the doorknob.
The voices stopped as soon as I began to turn it. I did it slowly, in case Julian had set up a booby trap, and pushed the door open at the same slow rate. I caught sight of Julian Castellani leaning against the windowsill at the end of the room, arms crossed, completely relaxed.
“Hello, Jack,” he called out. “You’ve been ages.”
I kicked the door open and advanced quickly, gun first, checking the room for any additional threats. But I knew Julian. I knew he liked to work alone. He wasn’t Sandro, who preferred to have a bunch of admirers clustered around so he could show off to them. Julian was more like me. A lone agent.
Miller was sitting at the table, tense but composed. “JJ,” he said, and I could hear the relief in his voice. “Uh. Your friend stopped by.”
I eyed Julian. “Why are you here?”
Julian raised an eyebrow. “I must say, Jack, if you’re going to leave your boyfriend alone, you should at least give him something more impressive to defend himself with. This little peashooter?” He reached behind him and pulled out the pocket pistol I’d left with Miller. “It’d barely give someone a headache.”
I got Julian’s chest firmly in my sights, aimed at his heart, and said, “Put it down and get out.”
With a soft laugh, he threw the gun onto the couch, where I heard it bounce. “Don’t you even want to know why I’m here?”
“I do not. Get out. Now.”
Julian shook his head, something flitting through his eyes that I hadn’t seen for a long time. Not since he’d offered to suck my dick and I’d turned him down. “I thought we werefriends, Jack.”
We are not friends, Julian. It was on the tip of my tongue. But there was no point poking the bear. “Myfriendsdon’t turn up unannounced and threaten my boyfriend.”
Julian looked at Miller in surprise. “Is that what I did, Miller Beaumont? That’s not what I did. Is it?”
