“I think you should come here,” I tell her. “If someone broke in, they could still be around. They might be dangerous.”
“Whoever it was is gone,” Jami says, and I hear the light click of a deadbolt on her end of the phone. “I checked the rooms and closets. I checked everything. No one is here anymore.”
I close my eyes and take a breath, annoyed–but not at all surprised–that Jami has checked the house herself and deemed it safe. What a fucking woman.
“Is anything missing?”
“No, I don’t think so,” she murmurs, and for the first time, I hear an edge of self-doubt in her voice. “Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I got spooked. Nothing is missing or broken, and there’s a good possibility I forgot to lock the door before I left.” As the words fall from her mouth, I can tell she doesn’t believe them. Neither do I, for that matter, but I don’t intend to frighten her further.
“I’m off in an hour,” I say, glancing at my watch. “But I’m going to leave early and come over.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know. I want to. Keep the door locked, and don’t answer it for anyone but me, okay?”
“Sure,” Jami says softly. I hate hearing the fear in her voice. I want to be there with her. I don’t ever want her to feel frightened for as long as she knows me.
“I’m on my way.” Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I reach for my jacket hanging over my desk chair and shrug it on. Jake, who has been listening to my side of the conversation, watches me.
“What’s happening?”
“Maybe something, maybe nothing,” I tell him. “Can you cover me for the last hour? Jami is home. I need to be there with her.”
“Is she okay? Did something happen?”
“She thinks someone may have been in the house, but she’s not sure. I’ll keep you updated,” I promise. “For now, just wait until you hear.”
“No problem, boss. Call me if you guys need me.”
“Thanks, Denny.”
21
JAMI
I’m almost three glasses of wine in before Ely arrives, and I already feel like a total loser for calling him home. I worry for a moment that he’ll be angry with me, annoyed at my dependence, but he’s not, not even close. The first thing he does when he walks through my door is wraps his strong arms around me, pulling me close, and for the first time since I’ve been home, I finally feel safe.
“I’m sorry, Ely. I’m sorry that you felt like you had to leave work. It’s just me. I’m overreacting.” I rub one hand over my face and take a deep, shaky breath. The wine glass between my fingers is being squeezed so hard that I don’t notice the pain until Ely pries the glass from my hand and sets it aside.
“Don’t ever be sorry,” he says, resting his lips on my forehead. “Not to me.”
“Nothing has been stolen,” I tell him, looking around the house. But even as the words leave my mouth and my eyes study the objects in the room, a slither of apprehension crawls up my spine. “It was just the door,” I continue, and at this point, I feel like I’m only trying to convince myself. “The door was unlocked, that’s all. Not even forced entry. I must have forgotten to lock it when I left last weekend. I haven’t been here all week, so I’m probably not even remembering correctly.”
“Has that happened before?” Ely asks, and I shake my head, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“No. I always lock it. But things have been weird recently, you know? I’ve had a lot on my mind. I must have just … forgotten.” Untangling myself from Ely’s arms, I reach for my abandoned glass of wine and take another sip. Then a drink, a big drink. I just can’t seem to shake the bad feeling that is hovering around my head, poisoning every thought in my mind. It’s making me nauseous. Then again, it could be all the booze.
“Hey,” Ely says, and when he touches me again, I melt into him, realizing at that moment that I can’t do this alone. I can’t be afraid by myself. I have Ely. I have to open up. “Tell me how you’re feeling, sweetheart.” He leads me to the couch, where we sit down together, and Ely drapes a blanket over us. I cuddle down into his warmth, but I’m still shivering even now.
“Tara told me today that she has a meeting with you on Monday,” I murmur, inhaling the subtle scent of aftershave on his skin. “Did she tell you what it was regarding?”
“She says she has proof that Kasper is a dirty cop,” Ely says with a nod. “If she really does, this could be the final nail in Kasper’s coffin.”
“I thought that when Tara landed in the ER the first time,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “I’m shocked he’s still out there, doing whatever he wants to do.”
Ely rests his lips on the top of my head and sighs heavily. “I know. I wish I could make it better. Fuck Kasper Hill.”
I’m quiet for a moment, trailing my fingers over the back of Ely’s hand, and then I kiss his arm. And then his neck, and before Ely can react, I swing my legs over him until I’m straddling him on the couch.
