repositioned it on the wall.
“Try to spy on her now, you bastard!” he muttered as he pocketed the camera and headed back into the living room.
“Did you find it?” She met his gaze. “You did!” Her hands covered her mouth again. “There really was a camera.”
Lucas wiped a hand down his face. “This Doug guy—that’s who you were talking about, isn’t it?”
“Talking about?”
“When you said another stalker, it’s him?”
She bit her lip and nodded.
Son of a bitch.
Angela was under a double threat. Not only was she in danger from a Chicago crime boss who wanted to use her as leverage against her ADA brother, but she was also being stalked by an obsessed ex-boyfriend.
He had his work cut out for him now. He’d given her a throw-away answer to her question of how he’d shown up just in time, but as Brad had said earlier, Angela was smart—and quick.
She’d ask him again, as soon as she was over the worst of her fear.
And what was he going to say?
Sugar, your brother sent me here to protect you from a hired hit man. The deranged ex-boyfriend is just a bonus. You know, lagniappe. Oh, and by the way, I’ve been watching you through hidden cameras, too.
“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. “That’ll work.”
Chapter Four
Angela frowned at Lucas, trying to make sense of what he’d just muttered. “What did you say? What will work?”
He looked surprised. “Nothing. I need to get you out of here.”
“Out of here? But where?”
“Someplace where I can keep an eye on you.”
“I can’t—” She looked down. She had on a little satin pajama set that wasn’t fit for going out in public. Not even at night in the French Quarter. “I need to change clothes.”
“Okay, but make it fast.” He nodded toward the bedroom.
Angela swallowed. “You got rid of the camera?”
“I’ve got it with me. I’ll give it to Dawson to check out.”
“Where was it?”
“In the clock over the chest.”
“In the clock.” She nodded, hardly able to believe what she was hearing—what she and Lucas were talking about. Doug Ramis had put a camera—a camera inside her apartment. In her bedroom.
He’d watched her.
Revulsion and fear made her scalp burn.
“You can go in and get some clothes now.”
She took a deep breath.
“Want me to go in there with you?”
“No,” she said quickly. “No. I can do it.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, Brat, you don’t have to prove anything to me. Just tell me what you want and where to find them.”
Brat. His other childhood nickname for her. Fraught with all the reasons she had to do this herself. Neither he nor Brad had ever thought she was capable of handling anything on her own. What they obviously didn’t realize was that it was because of them that she could take care of herself.
She shook her head, a deep breath fueled her determination. “No,” she said firmly. “No.”
He studied her for an instant, an odd little smile lighting his expression, then he nodded.
She forced herself to walk steadily through the door, but no amount of determination could stop her from looking at the clock. Or from shuddering. Again.
She grabbed underwear, Capri pants and a short-sleeved top, and went into her bathroom. Lucas had assured her that the camera aimed at her bed was disabled, but it didn’t matter. There was no way she could undress in that bedroom. Ever again.
She ran to the bathroom, changed in record time and rushed back to Lucas’s side.
“Ready?”
She grabbed her cell phone and stuck it in her purse with shaky hands. “What about my things? I’ve got a test Monday.”
“Don’t worry about that. Right now we need to get you someplace safe.”
“But—where are we going?”
He sent her an unreadable glance. “Not far. You’ll see.” He took her hand and pulled her toward the door.
“Lucas, how did—”
“No time right now, Ange. If your boyfriend shows up, I don’t want him to see us.”
“Don’t call him that,” she said stiffly.
He stopped and looked at her. “I’m sorry,” he said gently.
To her surprise, once they were outside, Lucas didn’t herd her toward a car. Instead he pulled her with him across the street, where he unlocked the door to the abandoned building that faced her apartment.
She dug in her heels, the hot fear washing over her again. “What is this? Why are we—?”
Lucas slid his arm around her waist and urged her inside. “Come on. It’ll be all right.”
Stunned by all that had happened in the past half hour or so, Angela let him guide her inside. He used the same key to unlock a door at the top of the stairs and then stood back for her to enter ahead of him.
She walked into a darkened room lit only by one large window that faced the street. And her apartment.
It was the window she’d studied earlier, fantasizing that there might be a sinister figure lurking behind it.
Was that sinister figure Lucas?
Then she saw the table and the array of computers and monitors lined up in front of the big window. Beyond the glass, not fifty feet away, were her French doors.
Lucas had left the light on in her living room, and she could see everything, crystal clear. She stared in horror as the full implication of what she saw sank in.
“Oh, God,” she muttered. Her knees went weak and she had to steady herself with a hand against the wall.
Behind her, she heard him shift. When she looked at him, his expression was sheepish and his
