Brutal Obsession (The Safeguard Series, Book One) by Kennedy Layne Page B
Authors: Kennedy Layne
Ads: Link
accepted this assignment considering their past relationship and its rocky ending, but he was grateful when she didn’t ask. Yes, he could have blatantly told Calvert that there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to travel to D.C. to protect a woman who’d made it plain that she’d wanted nothing further to do with him after summarily ending their brief affair in such an uncaring and cool manner. He didn’t…and that gave him pause.
“How do you think he got in here?” Ashlyn asked, choosing to continue along this professional route Keane had put them on. She turned around and hit the brew button on her coffee machine a little harder than necessary. Again, it didn’t surprise him to know she’d had it all set up and ready to go for when she needed it. He imagined her rinsing out the coffee pot, measuring out the grinds into the brass filter, and filling the reservoir with water just to leave it for later when she got home. She opened one of the cupboards and started to bring down two mugs. “Even the police couldn’t figure that out. There were no prints other than mine on my dresser. The doors were locked as if he’d never been here.”
“Which is why you had the locks changed,” Keane reminded her, pulling out his cell phone with every intention of calling Brody. The apartment building had security feeds and though the police and Coulter most likely had already gone through the footage, maybe there was something they were all missing. “Someone could have easily taken the keys from your office desk drawer and made a copy. I noticed you retrieved them when we left your office.”
“Then you do think it’s someone I work with,” Ashlyn pushed him to confirm something he wouldn’t divulge. The pool of suspects was too wide.
“I didn’t say that. You ride the shuttle to the courthouse, you stop in at the coffee shop, and I’m sure there were other times when someone could have easily have lifted your keys from your purse. With the right molding, the ridges of a key are easy enough to replicate for a bump key.”
It was going to take a group effort to find whoever had taken an unhealthy interest in Ashlyn. Plus, Keane wanted Brody to take a quick look into the paralegals, Garner, and Wright. These types of cases usually weren’t random. It wasn’t likely someone off the street had taken notice of her and gone this far. Ashlyn had crossed paths with this perp somewhere for him to be able to copy the key to her front door. She was a creature of habit. Work, home, repeat. Learning her routine wouldn’t have taken too long, but it would have required more than a random encounter.
“I’m beginning to think new expensive locks won’t be able to keep this man out,” Ashlyn said softly, resting her palms on the granite counter in front of her. She lowered her head as if to compose herself. Keane unbuttoned the cuffs on his dress shirt to give him something to do other than reach for her. It wasn’t his place. Old habits died hard. “So what now?”
“You do what you would normally do,” Keane suggested, itching to go search for what he believed to be a hidden camera inside of Ashlyn’s bedroom. He continued to roll up his sleeves as other possibilities made themselves known, but he’d wait for Coulter. “I’ll do what I’m paid to do. If you could direct me to your step stool, I’ll take care of the rest.”
Ashlyn finally turned to face him, her innate need to argue that sentiment falling short of her lips. He could see the internal struggle she was dealing with, knowing full well he would get his way. Her devotion to her career had always come first and now would be no exception.
“Fine. The stool is in the closet.” Ashlyn gave a curt nod and then cut through the other side of the kitchen to where she had most likely placed her shoes and purse. Sure enough, Keane caught sight of her as she made her way through the small entrance. “I’m going to change before I—”
A knock
“How do you think he got in here?” Ashlyn asked, choosing to continue along this professional route Keane had put them on. She turned around and hit the brew button on her coffee machine a little harder than necessary. Again, it didn’t surprise him to know she’d had it all set up and ready to go for when she needed it. He imagined her rinsing out the coffee pot, measuring out the grinds into the brass filter, and filling the reservoir with water just to leave it for later when she got home. She opened one of the cupboards and started to bring down two mugs. “Even the police couldn’t figure that out. There were no prints other than mine on my dresser. The doors were locked as if he’d never been here.”
“Which is why you had the locks changed,” Keane reminded her, pulling out his cell phone with every intention of calling Brody. The apartment building had security feeds and though the police and Coulter most likely had already gone through the footage, maybe there was something they were all missing. “Someone could have easily taken the keys from your office desk drawer and made a copy. I noticed you retrieved them when we left your office.”
“Then you do think it’s someone I work with,” Ashlyn pushed him to confirm something he wouldn’t divulge. The pool of suspects was too wide.
“I didn’t say that. You ride the shuttle to the courthouse, you stop in at the coffee shop, and I’m sure there were other times when someone could have easily have lifted your keys from your purse. With the right molding, the ridges of a key are easy enough to replicate for a bump key.”
It was going to take a group effort to find whoever had taken an unhealthy interest in Ashlyn. Plus, Keane wanted Brody to take a quick look into the paralegals, Garner, and Wright. These types of cases usually weren’t random. It wasn’t likely someone off the street had taken notice of her and gone this far. Ashlyn had crossed paths with this perp somewhere for him to be able to copy the key to her front door. She was a creature of habit. Work, home, repeat. Learning her routine wouldn’t have taken too long, but it would have required more than a random encounter.
“I’m beginning to think new expensive locks won’t be able to keep this man out,” Ashlyn said softly, resting her palms on the granite counter in front of her. She lowered her head as if to compose herself. Keane unbuttoned the cuffs on his dress shirt to give him something to do other than reach for her. It wasn’t his place. Old habits died hard. “So what now?”
“You do what you would normally do,” Keane suggested, itching to go search for what he believed to be a hidden camera inside of Ashlyn’s bedroom. He continued to roll up his sleeves as other possibilities made themselves known, but he’d wait for Coulter. “I’ll do what I’m paid to do. If you could direct me to your step stool, I’ll take care of the rest.”
Ashlyn finally turned to face him, her innate need to argue that sentiment falling short of her lips. He could see the internal struggle she was dealing with, knowing full well he would get his way. Her devotion to her career had always come first and now would be no exception.
“Fine. The stool is in the closet.” Ashlyn gave a curt nod and then cut through the other side of the kitchen to where she had most likely placed her shoes and purse. Sure enough, Keane caught sight of her as she made her way through the small entrance. “I’m going to change before I—”
A knock
Similar Books
