Cassie Miles - Bodyguard Under the Mistletoe

Standing in her front room, Fiona wasn’t sure whether she should be scared or embarrassed that she’d reported an intruder who didn’t exist.

She couldn’t turn to Jesse for guidance; he’d disappeared into the kitchen, moving slowly. When they were outside and he leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, she’d thought he was going to keel over, which wasn’t surprising considering his injuries. Carolyn had told her that he was unconscious for three days. Jesse was still weak and ought to be in bed. Not that he’d ever admit it. Typical man! When men got sick, they either put on a macho attitude or curled up in bed and whined like babies.

Agent Burke was giving the orders. “Everybody out,” he said. “We need to spread out and search.”

It went against her instincts as a hostess to have these men troop through her house without offering hospitality. “I should make coffee.”

“Later,” Burke said.

Turning away from her, he spoke to the man who had been in the car with Jesse. Wentworth? Burke rattled off instructions about how the outbuildings should be searched and reminded him that they should proceed with caution.

Fiona could see why Carolyn had fallen for this big, rugged FBI agent. Not only was Burke a fine-looking man, but he seemed strong-willed enough to stand up to Carolyn’s dynamic personality. These two would strike sparks off each other for sure.

While the searchers dispersed, she asked, “Is there something you’d like me to do, Agent Burke?”

“I’ll get the sheriff over here to dust for prints, but I doubt we’ll find anything. You keep a tidy house, Fiona.”

“Except for the enclosed porch off the kitchen. I’m using that as my pottery studio.”

“Let’s take a look around and see if anything’s missing.”

Dutifully, she scanned the living-room furniture and the shelves near the door where she stored some of her finished pottery. The TV was still there. And the computer. Nothing seemed out of place.

Burke followed her down the hall to her bedroom where she checked the contents of her jewelry box that rested on the knotty pine dresser. “Nothing appears to be missing, but the door to my walk-in closet is open. I didn’t leave it that way.”

“It might have been opened when we searched,” he said. “Take a look inside.”

Against the back wall was a neat row of dressy clothing, still in plastic dry cleaner’s bags. Matching shoes were stored in their original boxes. She never wore those clothes anymore. They were part of her old life.

Jesse joined them. Though still pale, he seemed to have regained some of his strength. “I’ll take over in here,” he said to Burke. “You might want to keep an eye on the search.”

“Thanks. Except for your man Wentworth, these guys aren’t trained in forensics. They wouldn’t know a clue if it jumped up and bit them on the ass.” He gave Fiona a wave. “I’ll be back.”

Jesse came toward her. In spite of his slight limp and the black sling on his left arm, he moved with confidence.

“You seem better,” she said.

“I’m getting a handle on these pain pills. Just a little foggy around the edges.” He peeked around her into the closet. “Tidy.”

“I haven’t touched most of those things since I unpacked.” She looked up into his eyes. His pupils were so dilated from the medication that she could barely see the dark cognac brown of his irises. “Maybe you should rest.”

“When I need a nap, I’ll let you know.” He flashed that killer grin. “In the meantime, I’m your protector.”

In spite of his light tone, she took him seriously. Her instincts told her this was a man she could trust with her life. In a way, she already had. Within moments of meeting Jesse, she’d told him the secret behind her move to the mountains. None of her friends in Denver knew how much she’d lost. Fiona’s story was that she and Abby were going to live at the cabin and seek a more peaceful life. Peaceful? Not today!

She cleared her throat and said, “Burke told me to look for signs that someone had been in my house.”

“Keep at it.”

She closed her closet door and led him into Abby’s room, which was more cluttered than the rest of the house but didn’t seem to have been ransacked.

“I can’t imagine why anybody would want to rob me,” she said. “I don’t keep valuables here.”

“From what you told me, you don’t keep valuables at all.”

“Things aren’t important to me. I care about people. People matter.”

He mattered. She’d only just met Jesse, but he mattered to her. Why was she so drawn to him? Very likely, because he was an incredibly good-looking man. His straight black hair was combed back from his forehead. He had high cheekbones, deep-set eyes and a firm jaw. But his features weren’t perfect. His nose looked as if it had been broken more than once. And he had a scar on his chin. An interesting face.

“Let’s go to the next room,” he said.

The guest room with the colorful handmade quilt was neat as a pin. Again, the closet door stood open. It was the same in the den.

The only rooms left to search were the kitchen and her studio. She backtracked through the living room, passing the dining table where she and Abby had begun their Christmas decorating with a centerpiece of handmade clay elves and reindeer.

In the kitchen, her gaze went to the top of the fridge where she’d left the antique Colt .45. The rectangular box appeared to be unmoved. She should take it down and make sure the gun was still inside. But something else caught her attention.

“The apples.” She pointed to a bowl on the table. “There are only three, and I’m sure I had four. I remember because I was going to run in here and grab an apple for Elvis.”

“Elvis?”

“Carolyn’s horse. She dropped by earlier.” It seemed crazy that someone would break into her house for a healthy snack. “I could be wrong. Nothing else is out of place.”

That left only her pottery studio. She went through the laundry room attached to the kitchen and stopped outside a closed door. “I always keep this door locked so Abby can’t come in here unsupervised. Too many sharp implements. And a kiln.”

She reached up for the key that hung from a hook near the top of the door frame. It was gone. Had she misplaced it?

Jesse reached past her and turned the doorknob. “It’s open.”

She stepped inside. Her potter’s wheel was in one corner. The kiln in the other. The long table between them was cluttered with sketchbooks and current projects. On the opposite side of the room, tall storage cabinets against the wall were opened. The larger boxes had been dragged out to the center of the room and opened. “Someone was in here.”

“Don’t touch. There might be fingerprints.” Using one of the sketching pencils, he opened the lid on one of the boxes and peered inside at an assortment of small kitchen appliances that she didn’t use anymore. “Anything missing?”

“Hard to tell. That’s just clutter.”

“Your intruder didn’t come here to rob you. He didn’t take the flat-screen TV or the computer. I’d say he was looking for something specific.”

But her house hadn’t been torn apart. The drawers and cabinets in the kitchen were untouched. “He was searching for something big enough to fit into one of these boxes.”

“Something that’s about the size of a suitcase.” With the fingers of his right hand, he raked his black hair off his forehead. “Something that’s gone missing.”

Fiona realized that she should have been frightened. The unlocked door and the boxes were evidence. An intruder had been inside her house. Instead, she felt angry and confused as she imagined a stranger wandering through her house, poking into her things. “I’m not in the mood for guessing games. What was he looking for?”