where Milo was gnawing on a big rawhide bone. One she hadn’t given him.
Boone was at the table, a large duffel bag by his chair and an array of electronic equipment spread before him. He looked up at her, then back at the meter in his hand.
“More bugs?” Those, at least, had convinced her to keep her voice down. Way down.
He nodded. “When was he in here?”
She went to the microwave and stuck the mug in for a minute. As she waited, she turned to him. “The last time was three days ago. He ate cake.”
“Ate cake?”
She joined him at the other side of the table. “He also left me a note. It said ‘You can run, but you can’t hide.’ So it’s safe to talk now?”
“Let’s keep it down, just in case, but I’m pretty sure the room is clean.” He looked down at the mess of electronic bits spread out in front of him. “This is some sophisticated shit.”
“Not as sophisticated as his IRS trick.”
“I’ve got someone who might be able to help with that.”
“How?”
“He’s got…interesting connections. We’ll see. Back to the stalker, do you have any idea who he is?”
“No. None.”
“He’s been after you for what, five months?”
“Yes. He’s been relentless. I’ve gone to the police, the FBI. No one has been able to find out a thing.”
“Has he indicated what he wants?”
She stared at him. “Are you kidding?”
“No. Some stalkers are very specific. They’re after a relationship, or they believe they’ve been wronged in some way. If his messages have had any kind of theme, that could be helpful.”
“He wants me to be afraid. Hold on,” she said, rising. Milo watched her, his paws still guarding his bone, as she went to the living room and got her log book. “Tell me something,” she said, handing it to Boone. “What did you do to Milo?”
“I gave him a bone.”
“No. Before. He didn’t attack you. He just whined.” She sat down again. “Like you were the mailman or something. Not an intruder.”
“Ah. Yeah, well. I have this spray.”
“Pepper spray?” she said, ready to find her gun.
“No, no. Nothing like that. He’s fine. Not harmed in any way.”
“What kind of spray?”
“It’s a gentle tranquilizer. It’s already gone from his system.”
“You drugged my dog and broke into my house, and I’m having tea with you.”
“I told you. I’m here because of Nate.”
“Maybe you ought to tell me more about that. A whole lot more.”
“I promise, I’ll tell you everything I can. But first, I have to finish my sweep. I don’t want you saying a word out there until I’m done.”
“How long?”
“A few hours. He’s clever and he’s got great toys. I have to make sure. Christie, not all of these are listening devices. Some are cameras. He had two outside, which I disabled, but I have no idea how many more there could be.”
She shivered as she thought about her options. It was hellish being at Boone’s mercy, but she’d been at the bastard’s mercy for months. Just the fact that he’d been listening…Watching…Christ. In her bedroom.
A wave of nausea made her clutch her stomach. Not that she’d had any action for a billion years, but she wasn’t one to shy away from taking care of herself. “What can I do?”
“Get some sleep.”
She laughed. “Yeah. That’s gonna happen.”
He looked at her hard, that furrow between his eyes deep and serious. Green. She hadn’t seen that in the bedroom, but his eyes were a dramatic green. They weren’t like emeralds, or the grass outside her house. Maybe like the ocean by the pier in Santa Monica. “Sleep is the thing that will help the most,” he said. “It won’t be easy, and if you can’t fall asleep, you should at least lie down and close your eyes. You’re going to need everything in the next few days. All your brains and all your reflexes. If you’re too tired, you become a liability instead of an asset. From what I’ve heard, you’re not going to want to sit back and watch. So do us both a favor and go to bed.”
Christie felt as though she should be insulted. But that was probably just his tone, not his message. And it wasn’t really his tone, because he’d talked in that whisper of his. “You’re right. I’m exhausted. Will you wake me when you’re finished?”
“I’d rather wait until morning, if you’re willing. You could use the rest.”
“If I’m still sleeping, then let me sleep,” she said. “But whenever I wake up, you’re going to tell me what I want to know.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ma’am. Right.” She turned to Milo, who was still having his way with the rawhide bone. She wanted him to come to bed with her, but his chewing would keep her awake, and she didn’t have the heart to take the treat away. Instead, she stood up, thought once again that she was quite insane for letting Boone stay in her house, and doubly so for going to sleep while he had the full run of the place. But she was so damn tired, it didn’t matter. “There’s fruit in the fridge. And stuff to make a sandwich.”
“Thank you.”
“I threw out the rest of the cake.”
He nodded slightly, then went back to examining the stuff. By the time she reached her bed and turned off the light, she was halfway out. Hitting the pillow was just dumb luck.
BOONE HAD SEEN THIS EQUIPMENT many times. It was top-of-the-line, and mostly unavailable to the public. John Q. Public couldn’t get it from the neighborhood spy store, but it could be found. Whoever the stalker was, he knew what he was doing. He’d placed the bugs perfectly—in the smoke detector, in a loose tile by the refrigerator. If Boone hadn’t known the ropes he’d have missed at least one.
He got up, stretched and dismissed the idea of getting a sandwich. There was too much to do before Christie woke up. He grabbed his bag, slipped on his night-vision goggles, and headed for her office.
It took over two hours to do the bug sweep. The stalker was inventive, that’s for sure. Boone was certain he was someone in security, maybe even a spook, and that made Boone damned uncomfortable. The stalker’s obsession most likely had nothing to do with his profession, but it did make him far more dangerous.
Stalkers weren’t all the same, but they all had things
