Page 82 of Serve ’N’ Protect

Jimmy had been collecting her mail for her, and she picked up the government check that had arrived yesterday. True to his word, Captain McMurray had sent her a check for $5000. A grand for every week Markus had been living next door to her.

Going to the little desk adjacent to the kitchen, she pulled out a white envelope and stuck a stamp on it. This much money would pay a lot of bills. As much as she wanted to cash the check, it didn’t seem right. What had started out as a job had turned into something else. Something she could never accept money for.

With a heavy sigh, she stuffed the check inside the envelope, addressed it to Captain McMurray at the same address it had been sent from, then sealed it closed.

Back at the kitchen counter, she rifled through one of the boxes, not finding the folder she was looking for. Shouldn’t be a problem, since she had those particular documents backed up on—

Dammit. She’d forgotten the external hard drive back at the house. It was still sitting in the side table drawer where she’d left it.

“Mom!” she shouted down the stairs. Sinatra’s “Love and Marriage” and her mom’s singing blared up the stairs. “Mom!” Still no answer.

Cassidy shook her head. There was no getting between her mom and Frank. She looked down the stairs, of which there were many. With all the dampness in the air today, her leg was aching fiercely.

So her mom wouldn’t worry, Cassidy scribbled a quick note then taped it to the refrigerator. In all likelihood, she’d be back before her mother even knew she’d gone out.

The house was dark as Cassidy pulled into her driveway. When she and her brothers had packed up her things, she hadn’t thought to leave any lights on, but she had remembered to set the alarm on the way out.

Next door at John’s house, a light glowed through the curtained windows on the front door. Her heart beat a little faster because, for one split second, she forgot that Markus was no longer there. But it was only a standing lamp in the living room that had been left on a timer.

Not surprisingly, “New York, New York,” one of Sinatra’s biggest hits, blared from somewhere inside her purse. Her mom must have found the note she’d left on the refrigerator. Taking the call would have been the courteous thing to do but then her mother would launch into a ten-minute tirade about breaking the rules and leaving the house alone.

As if I’m five years old again.

As she let the call go to voicemail, a smidge of guilt took root. She knew her family was only concerned for her safety.

She cued up the last text thread she’d had with her mom and couldn’t keep from smiling. Ever since her mother learned how to paste emojis into messages, there’d been no stopping her. Smiley faces. Frowny faces. Hearts and stars. Cassidy quickly composed a text that should pacify her mother.

Needed fresh air and a little space, running errands, b home soon, luv u.

That and a heart emoji should do it. She hit send and tossed the phone back into her purse.

Once outside, the cold, damp air felt good on her face but not so much in her leg. She grabbed her cane from the SUV, slung her purse over her shoulder, then made her way to the house. She automatically reached for the railing, yanking back her hand in time as she remembered it wasn’t there.

She pulled open the outer door and unlocked the main door. Unaccustomed as she was to it, the loud beeping from the security system was still a bit unnerving but also comforting. It meant that no one else was inside. She punched her code into the keypad and was greeted with blessed silence. After flipping on the light over the door and pushing the door closed, she went directly to the sofa table and pulled open the drawer. She reached for her little blue external hard drive. Only it wasn’t there. Neither was the gun Markus had left there. He must have taken it on the way out.

“Looking for this?”

Cassidy spun, dropping her cane and stumbling backward as she drew in a sharp intake of breath.

A man moved from a shadowy corner of the living room. Every stitch of clothing he wore was black, which probably accounted for why she hadn’t seen him. Dangling from his thick fingers was her external hard drive. “Or this?” In his other hand, he held up Markus’s gun, then shoved it into his waistband.

“Wh-who are you?” Her voice trembled and heart began pounding at an alarming rate. Ridiculously, she looked at his hair, expecting it to be blond, like the man who’d broken into her house and whoever had tried to run her down. This man had brown hair and was as tall as Markus and built like a tank.

Her mouth went dry and she swallowed. As if his size alone weren’t scary enough, his eyes frightened her more. Cold and dark, completely devoid of emotion. Whoever he was, he’d managed to bypass her security system and reset it, which told her something else.

This man was a professional.

Oh, God. A hit man.

He came closer, moving slowly and without the slightest hint of being in a hurry. With every step he took, her fear rose tenfold. She inched farther backward until her ass contacted a corner of the wall at the base of the stairs. Her purse slid off her shoulder, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

“Who I am is irrelevant,” he said calmly and flatly.

She ought to move. To run or scream or something. But she couldn’t. Her body wasn’t responding. All she could do was stare helplessly as the man walked between her sofa and coffee table. The overhead light fully illuminated his face. A hard face without an ounce of concern.

“New York, New York” blasted from somewhere on the floor. The man’s eyes flicked to the purse at her feet.

Now! Move, dammit!