Julie James - Something about You

His comments about the security system got Cameron thinking. “You know, having seen you in action this weekend, I’m surprised you felt comfortable being down the hallway from me that first night. While we’ve been here, you haven’t let me out of your sight for more than a half hour.” She caught the look on Jack’s face. “What?”

“In the interest of full disclosure . . . I didn’t let you out of my sight that night. I slept on your floor. Actually, more like against your wall.” He mistook her silence. “I didn’t say anything because I was trying not to scare you.”

She shook her head. “No, I get it. I just . . . didn’t realize you had done that for me.”

Jack lowered his voice so Collin couldn’t hear. “Don’t look so serious. Trust me—you more than made up for it last night.”

Cameron put on a smile, not wanting to ruin the mood. “Sorry. I’ll just be glad when this investigation is over.”

“It will be soon. I promise,” Jack said.

She nodded in agreement.

Particularly if she had anything to say about it.

THEY GOT ON the road shortly after the brunch. Cameron wasn’t eager to tempt fate—the entire weekend had been wonderful, and she wanted to keep it that way.

She had a lot of time to think during the drive home. She had some thoughts on a possible next step in the Robards investigation, but she didn’t want to bring it up until they were back at her house. After Jack confirmed that the security system was working, and after they had settled in and unpacked from the wedding, she was hoping the two of them could sit down and talk through her idea. She had a feeling Jack wasn’t going to be particularly receptive, at least not at first.

With the shorter fall days, it was just beginning to turn dark outside when Jack pulled the car into her garage. He told her to wait in the car while he checked to make sure the backyard was safe. Then he came back, grabbed their suitcases, deposited them at the back door, and escorted her to the house.

Coming out of her garage, Cameron noticed the new French doors on her upstairs balcony. “They look just like the old ones,” she observed.

“I had our security team put them in over the weekend. We needed them with the new alarm system.”

Jack unlocked the back door, left her standing outside for a few moments, then gestured for her to enter. To her, everything felt quiet and secure, but she followed him from room to room as he checked the house, waiting for him to confirm this.

“We’re good,” he finally said after finishing up with the third and last floor.

Cameron breathed easier after that, and even more so when Jack brought her over to the security keypad next to the door that led to the rooftop deck.

He pushed a few buttons on the keypad, then showed her how it worked. “We’ve got alarms on all the doors and windows, and glass-break sensors on every floor. You can arm the entire house by pushing this button right here. You should see this red light come on, and then you know you’re good to go. You should always have the system armed. I’ve programmed in a short delay—you’ll only have ten seconds after you enter the house to disarm the system before the alarm goes off. The security team put panels next to all the doors, so that should give you enough time. To disarm the alarm, you just enter the security code.”

“What’s the code?” she asked.

“You pick—any four-character combination that’s easy to remember. Not your birthday or anything obvious like that.”

He watched as she entered the code. “What’s five-two-two-five?”

“It spells ‘Jack’ on the keypad. Should be easy enough to remember.”

They headed back downstairs to the main floor. Jack had left her suitcase in the foyer, and Cameron grabbed it to bring it up to her bedroom to unpack.

Jack’s arms came around her and turned her to face him. “Do you want to talk about whatever has been bothering you all afternoon?” His eyes searched hers carefully. “You were quiet during the car ride.”

Of course he would pick up on that. “There is something I want to talk to you about,” she admitted. “But I thought maybe we could get settled in first.” She saw the stubborn set to his jaw. “I’m guessing you’re not so keen on that plan.”

He took her by the hand and led her through the kitchen and into the great room. “Good guess.” He gestured for her to take a seat on the couch.

“How come every time we have one of these conversations, I feel like I should be in a room with a two-way mirror and a bright light shining in my face?”

“Then I’ll spare you the usual interrogation tactics and get right down to it,” Jack said. “Is it us?”

“Is what us?”

“Whatever’s bothering you—is it about us?”

Cameron looked at him strangely. “Of course not—this was probably the most incredible weekend of my life. Why would I suddenly have a problem with us?”

She saw the tension drain out of Jack’s face. He took a seat on the couch next to her. “Oh. Good.” He grinned and threw his arm along the back of the couch, getting comfortable. “Me, too, you know. The most incredible weekend part.”

“But you’re still not going to like what I have to say.”

Glowering ensued.

“Do I get the bright light now?” Cameron asked teasingly.

“I think I might skip the light and go straight to that paper clip technique we discussed earlier if you don’t start talking.”

“Just promise me that you’ll consider everything I have to say before you answer.”

Jack looked her over with his dark, predatory eyes. “All right,” he finally agreed.

Cameron tucked her knees underneath her. “I’m obviously very worried about the Robards investigation. This is a strain on me, on you, and it puts everyone I know at risk. I know your team is doing all they can, but nobody’s come up with anything so far.”

She could tell from the way Jack’s jaw twitched that he didn’t like being reminded of this.

“I hate that the ball is all in this asshole’s court, and that I pretty much just have to sit here and wonder if he’s going to come after me again.”

Cameron could tell from Jack’s expression that he liked being reminded of that even less.

“But maybe there’s a way we can control the situation,” she said.

“How do you propose we do that?” Jack asked.

“That’s what I was thinking about in the car. And I might’ve come up with something. We figured out that there’s a leak—perhaps we can use that to our advantage. We know that the killer knew how to avoid the hotel cameras. But what if we spread the word that you guys have identified a guest who was using a camcorder in the Peninsula that evening—maybe for a vacation or a bachelor party, something like that. You let it be known that this guest caught on tape a man wearing a gray hooded T-shirt, blazer, and jeans, exiting the hotel shortly after Mandy’s murder. You say that the FBI crime lab is trying to enhance the tape to come up with an image of the guy’s face, and that you’re hopeful you’ll be able to identify him soon. Hopefully word will spread to the right person.”

Jack got up from the couch. Odd that she’d ever found him hard to read—because right then she had absolutely no problem seeing how much he disliked this idea.

“You know as well as I do that a man exiting the hotel wearing a gray hooded T-shirt around the time of the murder means nothing by itself,” Jack said. “ You are the one who can tie that person to the murder. The only one. And the killer knows that. So what you’re really suggesting is that we give Mandy Robards’s murderer extra incentive to get you out of the picture.”