“You call the cops?”
“No. I’m still thinking. If I involve them…”
“I get it. You’d rather take matters into your own hands. They can’t pin shit on you if you never report the break-in.”
“You know me well.”
“See you in a few.”
I text him the address and pocket my phone. I can’t be sure who broke into the apartment. I’d bet my last dollar it involves her ex, but that doesn’t mean he did it himself. Someone professional picked the lock. There was nothing visible from outside the apartment. They broke in, ransacked the place, and left. Probably a message. Somehow, I doubt June’s ex is savvy enough to have broken in himself.
I look around. I know June doesn’t own much, and certainly nothing worth stealing. Unless she has jewelry she hasn’t mentioned. What tips me off is her computer is still sitting on the table. No one took that. They simply tossed the place in order to scare her.
I’m not scared, but I’m pissed. In my mind, she’s my girl now. Mine to protect. If anyone thinks they can fuck with her, they have no idea who they’re dealing with.
This is why she’s in my apartment right now. This is why she couldn’t sleep last night and rushed over to my office this morning. She had a hunch, and she was right.
Her fucking ex has been waiting for an opportunity like this. As soon as her face was flashed all over the news, he had his opening. Abusive assholes like him are relentless. They don’t give up. They mean it when they say, “If I can’t have you, nobody can.” It’s more common than most people realize. Relentless fucks who track down their estranged wives and beat the shit out of them before dragging them “back home.” Or kill them.
My jaw is so tight it hurts. The thought of what would have happened to my girl if she hadn’t been smart enough to get the fuck out of here this morning…
I consider calling the cops, but there’s not a fucking thing they can do, especially if nothing is missing. I bet the perp didn’t leave a print in this apartment or on the door. It’s a clean job. Meant to scare her.
If she’d been here, they would have taken her. Since she wasn’t, they left a message.
I pull my phone out again and call Rachell. She answers in one ring like Cannon. “Cannon just ran out of here with fire on his heels. He didn’t say anything, but I can read between the lines. I sent a guy upstairs to stand guard outside your door.”
“Thank you.” I blow out a relieved breath. Rachell is fucking good at her job. She’s not just a receptionist. She looks like one for anyone coming into the office, but the truth is she could kill any man or woman who walked through the door with her bare hands if need be.
She also isn’t making a receptionist’s salary. I know her value. If she wanted to be in the field, I wouldn’t hesitate to put her out there, but she doesn’t. She has her reasons. I’ve never asked. She’s allowed to keep her secrets. She’s right where she wants to be—doing a job that involves her full worth and utilizes her potential without putting herself in dangerous situations.
I doubt it’s the danger she’s worried about. It’s probably PTSD. Maybe someday she’ll tell me. I won’t dig into her business.
I consider calling June. There’s no way I would tell her about this over the phone, but I want to know she’s okay.
She is. I know she is. No one knows she’s at my place. Even if someone followed her to my office this morning and suspects she’s still in the building, they wouldn’t be able to get to her.
To be doubly safe, I place my next call to Brinkman in the lobby.
He also picks up on the first ring. “Sir?”
“Hey, could you please be extra cautious about anyone coming up the elevator for the time being? Just double-check with Rachell or one of the guys before anyone goes up.”
“Always do, sir.”
“I know.” I rub my neck. “I don’t mean to be such a dick. Sorry.”
“No problem at all. I assume this has to do with the terrified woman who came in this morning looking like someone beat the shit out of her. I know she never came back down. No one and nothing gets by me, sir. You have my word.”
“Yes, and thank you. She won’t be coming back down for any reason in the near future.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Thank you.” I hang up and draw in a deep breath. Hopefully, June won’t simply walk out of the building in search of lunch or something. Even though Rachell has someone watching the apartment, June isn’t a hostage. She could leave. I can’t imagine she would, and I’ll impress upon her that I forbid her from doing so. But I wouldn’t put it past her ex to get her number and threaten her.
Pricks like him have a way of luring their prey out of hiding with promises of violence if they don’t comply. Just to be safe, I’ll get her set up with a new phone that’s not in her name and confiscate hers. That way, if her ex tries to call her, I’ll be the one answering.
I call Mace next. Killing time. Taking care of business. Before he even responds, I start talking, “Can you get a new phone set up for June? I’m going to swap hers out so we can monitor it.”
