Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74125 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 23
Kynan
Cruce and I walk the rear of Joslyn’s property, which has a thick border of laurel and scrub oak. It’s a good place for a creeper to hide and watch her house from a distance, so I check it often. I’ve also installed wireless cameras in a few of the trees, hidden on a secured network Bebe monitors with alarm measures to ensure they’re not hacked. So far, it doesn’t appear Joslyn’s stalker has tried to breach her property since he left the sunflowers, but I am expecting him to make a move any day. I’ve even thought about having Bebe let him into the system if he tries, to see if we can lure him into some complacency.
It’s hard to know what to do, though. Joslyn isn’t the first person I’ve protected from something such as this, but the stakes have never been so personally high. My frustration in not knowing who we’re dealing with is starting to take a toll. If this doesn’t end soon, there’s no telling what I’m doing to do to this bastard when we finally get him.
“Joslyn wants to have breakfast with her mom tomorrow morning, then go out and do some shopping,” I tell Cruce as we stroll. It looks like a relaxed meander to the casual observer, but we’ve both got our eyes peeled sharply for any bit of evidence to indicate her stalker has been here or for a potential weakness in our defense.
“Want me to take them?” he guesses.
“Yeah, and only because I’m going to interview another potential candidate for Jameson,” I reply. “He’s in California on business, so he’s going to stop by here.”
“Anyone I know?” Cruce asks curiously.
“Not unless international theft is your gig,” I answer with a laugh.
Chuckling, he shakes his head. “Not my scene, but he sounds interesting.”
“Trust me,” I drawl as we turn toward the house. “Saint Bellinger is quite the character.”
“Well, then I look forward to meeting him if he makes your cut.” We move through the middle of the yard and walk toward the pool. I’ve yet to see Joslyn use it despite the fact it’s heated and the weather has been nice. Cruce stops at the edge. “If you’re doing some active recruiting, I’ve got someone you might be interested in.”
“Oh yeah?”
Cruce nods. “His name is Malik Fournier. He’s finishing up an enlistment in the U.S. Marine Corps now. 2D Recon.”
“I’m always interested in someone with a Special Forces background. Solid guy?”
“The best,” Cruce replies. “He did a temporary detail at the White House and got to know the president pretty well. His brothers are professional hockey players. Lucas and Max Fournier, who play for Carolina Cold Fury.”
Shrugging, I shake my head. “Sorry, mate. I’m a football kind of guy… and by football for you Yanks, I mean soccer.”
Cruce laughs. “If you want to talk to him, I’ll give him a call.”
“Do that,” I say head before heading toward the back door. “I’m going to go check on Joslyn.”
“I’ll make another sweep of the perimeter,” Cruce says.
I throw a hand up, calling over my shoulder. “Joslyn’s going to make dinner tonight. Figure we’ll eat around seven or so.”
“Roger that,” he replies, then I put Cruce out of my mind. He’s been a good houseguest the last two days. Unobtrusive, yet he always has his eye on Joslyn the same as I do. I feel better having him here.
I enter through the patio door that leads into the great room. The alarm chimes since we leave it engaged at all times, and I enter the code into my phone app rather than the keypad on the wall. Just a habit. It’s amazing how much shit can be utilized through a phone these days.
It’s getting close to dusk. When I’d left Joslyn about half an hour ago, she was in her room reading a book. She’s got a window nook with a padded bench and fluffy pillows, and she seemed happy and content just relaxing, although I know appearances can be deceiving.
Joslyn is asleep when I walk into her room. Head nestled on a pillow, legs curled under her, and her book face down on her chest.
Smiling, I move to sit on the edge of the padded bench near her hip. My eyes drop to the book. There’s a bare-chested dude—amazingly built—on the cover.
I pick the book up for a closer inspection. Apparently, Joslyn wasn’t sleeping deeply as she immediately rouses.
“Hey,” she says in a raspy voice as she rubs her eyes.
Cocking an eyebrow, I hold the book up. “Just what is this?”
“It’s a romance book,” she snaps, but her lips curve up. She snatches it from my hand, then tucks it behind her back. “You should read it. Bet you could learn a thing or two, McGrath.”
I give an offended grunt, shooting her a stern look. “There’s nothing in those books I can’t do a million times better.”