He closed the door behind him and sighed in relief to be out of there.Don’t think about it. Move on. There was still work to be done.
First, Jas retrieved their bags from the car. They both had backpacks with their laptops and computer things. He had a small duffel and a bigger bag filled with security equipment. She’d packed a large roller suitcase, one he hadn’t seen in a long time, which made sense, since she hadn’t gone anywhere overnight in forever.
He grunted when he lifted her bag out of the trunk. He had no idea what was in it, but back when they’d traveled extensively with Hardeep, she always had carried a great deal ofstuff. There had been bellhops then to handle the luggage.
He took their insulated bag of food into the kitchen and placed the few supplies they’d brought into the fridge,including a small jar that contained Katrina’s precious sourdough starter. That had been another thing that Katrina had always traveled with.
He carried the rest of the luggage upstairs and held his breath as he opened her bedroom door so it formed the smallest possible wedge. He shoved her suitcase inside like it was on fire, then closed the door quietly. He wasn’t getting stuck in that trap again.
He walked across the hall and tossed his duffel on the bed there. The room was bigger, comfy and cozy with older furnishings, but also devoid of any sign anyone had actually lived here. So, fine. He’d take the master and be okay with it. He supposed, technically, as the owner on the deed for this house, this was his room by right, even if it was weird to sleep in the room his grandparents had occupied.
He unzipped the second, larger bag. He took out the cameras and lined them up on the antique writing desk. His grandfather would grumble if he discovered Jas was drilling holes in the historic house, but again, it was Jas’s house. And they needed cameras. He’d install them around the perimeter once there was more light.
He gathered up some basic gadgets and headed downstairs. No alarm system, which he’d also have to figure out. For now he installed a simple doorstop at each door. The metal stick wedged under the doorknob wasn’t the most sophisticated way to keep intruders out, but it would be effective enough for warning him if someone was entering the place. At each window he attached a high-decibel alarmsensor that would shriek if it was opened or the glass was broken.
Did he actually think someone would hurt Katrina? Not really. He genuinely believed it would be difficult for anyone to get through all the digital roadblocks he had in place to protect her home address.
At the same time, he also understood her reaction. The potential threat of doxxing was scary enough for people who hadn’t been through what she had.
Jas shuddered, recalling the day of the incident. Her security had claimed they’d barely been a couple feet behind her. They’d heard a noise, glanced away for a second, maybe two, and she’d been gone. It had taken one whole harrowing day for the ransom call to come. Jas had been there a few days later for the handoff in the parking lot behind a deserted warehouse. Would he ever be able to forget the way Katrina had looked when she’d stumbled out of the van? Dirty, small, still in the now-torn clothes she’d been abducted in. Bleeding.
He shook his head. No, he’d been too far away to see the blood at first. It was only in his nightmares that he could see each drop of blood curving down her smooth cheek.
Hardeep had been told to stay away from the scene, lest he be targeted as well, so it had been Jas who had pulled her away while the cops swarmed, Jas who had held her hand in the ambulance, Jas who had stood by while a doctor stitched her cheek in the ER. It had taken her days to start speaking in anything but one-word sentences. Weeks for her to leave the house, and then only because Hardeephad gently browbeaten her into it, much to Jas’s disapproval, though he’d only aired that with his boss in private. In Punjabi, because, though Katrina was quick, she hadn’t picked up enough Punjabi to understand them when they spoke rapid-fire in their own language.
She doesn’t want to go to a movie or dinner or anything, Hardeep.
If we let her hermit, she’ll stay in here forever.
So?
Hardeep had sighed.There’s no use in coddling her.
Jas’s lip curled.Coddlingwas such an infantilizing word for respecting the wishes of an adult and encouraging them to take things at their own pace.
He scrubbed his hand over his face. Look at him, dwelling on the past. Must be the novelty of being in this house where so much had changed.
It was time to head to bed. He tested the front door one more time, ensuring that it was secure. Or as secure as it could be.
He wasn’t sure what made him glance over into the living room as he headed to the stairs, but it was the mantel over the fireplace that made him stop.
So not everything had changed.
His steps were leaden as he made his way to the fireplace. When he’d been young, it would have been impossible to reach, but now he easily pulled down the shotgun hung up high in a place of honor.
It was old and worn, from his great-grandparents’ time. Hung for décor, not function. It was unloaded, and therewouldn’t be any ammunition left carelessly lying around the house.
He ran his hand over the old weapon, searching out the scratches and nicks. He’d grown up around guns, had known how to use them safely well before he’d headed to the armed forces.
He swiped his arm over his mouth. His upper lip had broken out in sweat. Jas hadn’t touched a weapon more lethal than a Taser in years. That did make him an oddity in his field, but he’d learned to compensate for the lack of a gun.
He pivoted and made his way back to the front door, removed the security bar and jerked it open. He had the presence of mind to close it behind him, even though he wasn’t going far, just to the SUV parked in the driveway.
He opened the trunk and dropped the shotgun inside, concealing it with a blanket and the luggage cover. Once it was enclosed in there, the tightness between his shoulder blades eased.
He was so exhausted he almost walked into the room he’d placed Katrina in, but turned away at the last second. That would be a true disaster.
Jas settled into his grandparents’—well, his now—bed. The bedding might have all stayed the same, but the mattress had been changed at some point. This one was memory foam, which he hated. Give him those old springs any day of the week.
