Copy That. HelenKay Dimon

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“Did you hit your head?”

      From the look on her face he wondered if she had. “Uh, no.”

      “Fall down?”

      He held up both hands, including the one with the loaded gun. “Okay, let me just stop you before you run through every possible injury scenario. I’m fine.”

      She snorted. “You sure sound like Garrett.”

      Not the first time he’d heard that. “Probably because I’m his brother.”

      “Brother?”

      “Yes.” The confusion hadn’t left her eyes, so he nodded to emphasize his answer. “He didn’t tell you he had an identical twin?”

      Her chest rose and fell on a hard breath. “No, but I guess that would explain it.”

      “Not a surprise. He tends to be private.”

      She snorted. “There’s an understatement.”

      Seemed she did know Garrett. In their respective lines of work, the brothers kept their personal lives secret. It was an unspoken way of protecting each other. Their bond could transcend weeks, months even, without communication. They didn’t need to announce it in every conversation.

      Jeremy had been in the field in Arizona as a Border Patrol agent. He’d come in for a mandatory break. His agenda included nothing more than a few beers and maybe a Padres game. He’d earned some rest and relaxation time. With nothing but miles of desolate desert and days spent chasing drug runners for miles on end, walking into San Diego had been like stepping into a cleansing shower.

      Now this. Jeremy didn’t know what Garrett had done or whom he’d ticked off, but something big was happening here and Jeremy had managed to jump right into the middle of it by accident.

      So much for the idea of a thirty-day recuperation period while hanging out with his brother by the beach.

      Jeremy slipped his cell out of his back pocket and hit a button for the preprogrammed number. He knew the person on the other end would have his identity and location in less than fifteen seconds, with or without the code word. He said it anyway. “Roman five.”

      The woman in front of him just stared. “What does that—”

      “Hill residence.” He held up a finger as he talked into the silence on the other end of the phone. Someone somewhere would be taping the distress call and he didn’t want her voice being overheard. “Need immediate assistance.” He hung up.

      She found her first smile; it was shaky but there. “Roman? I’m guessing that’s a password?”

      He shrugged. “Dramatic but I didn’t pick it.”

      “That was sort of a one-sided conversation.”

      “All it takes is one call.”

      “You have a special ‘in’ with law enforcement the rest of us aren’t privy to?”

      Clearly the woman had no idea what Garrett did for a living. “My brother has friends in the right places.”

      “I wouldn’t know. He’s not exactly the sharing type.”

      “True. Garrett can keep a secret forever if he needs to.” He took his oath seriously. They both did.

      Funny how Garrett had even forgotten to mention his pretty neighbor. But Jeremy sure noticed her. Straight shoulder-length blondish-brown hair and big brown eyes. The shirt hinted at a comfortable curviness that trumped the stick-figure California type every time in his book.

      He loved the softness of women. Their smell and inviting smiles. Mix that with a wariness of someone who had seen the rougher parts of life and you had his attention.

      And how she’d gone after the attacker, waiting for the right moment to strike, was pure magic.

      “May as well make this official.” He held out his hand. “Jeremy Hill. Younger brother by thirty-four minutes.”

      She slid her hand into his. “Meredith Samms. Kindergarten teacher and woman right on the edge of vomiting.”

      “Please don’t. I’d honestly rather you shoot me.” He’d take a firefight over dry heaving any day.

      “Believe it or not, I’m trying not to be sick.”

      Way he figured it, help was still two minutes away. He’d hoped to take her mind off the horror then get her down the steps and out without incident, but his time was up. They had to go.

      “You teach your students those kicking moves?”

      “I might now.” She inhaled and let her breath out nice and slow as she stared at a fixed point across the street. “I like to think I’m pretty smart, but I’m totally confused about what’s going on here.”

      “Understandable.”

      “My hands won’t stop shaking.” She turned her palms up.

      He slid his hands under hers and felt her nerves jump around. When he realized his did, too, and not from fear, he dropped his arms to his sides. “Adrenaline. It will pass.”

      “Will the urge to throw up?”

      He sure hoped so. “That takes a bit more practice.”

      He glanced through the window into the ransacked family room, seeing if there was anything he could salvage before they booked out of there. Guy still knocked out on the floor. Good. Nothing else looked much like it was worth keeping. Jeremy knew without a full house inspection the only thing that mattered, or had any value, stood in front of him with eyes the size of basketballs.

      “Anyone else in the house, to your knowledge?” he asked as he eased away from the door and down the stairs, taking her with him toward the sidewalk without even touching her.

      “No.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as she took turns peeking at the door and watching her step.

      “You haven’t seen Sara?”

      Meredith stopped moving. “Who’s Sara?”

      Well, that answered the question about the current state of Garrett’s love life. “That sounds like a ‘no’ on Sara.”

      The questions kept piling up. Jeremy planned to track down his brother the second they got out of there and start asking a few.

      “I thought Garrett was home, but I guess not,” Meredith said.

      “Just me, and I walked in on that guy. Watched him for about fifteen minutes to see what he was looking for.” Jeremy cleared his throat as he tried to block the guilt kicking his gut. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I had a problem by the back door and had to find a way around it.”

      “I’m fine.” Meredith shook her head, as if trying to block out his words. “Are the police on the way?”

      “I

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