Brutal Obsession (The Safeguard Series, Book One) (11 page)

“You are mine. You always have been. We’ll be together soon.”

*

He curled his
lip in disgust and contempt.

He’d wanted to see her facial expression when she received his text, but she’d been rushed into the backseat of the town car. Did she think one man could keep another such as him from claiming what was his?

No. This wasn’t her fault. She was being used by weaker men.

She’d smiled at him today. She recognized their bond as he had.

The affection was her way of telling him someone had forced her to bring in the authorities. He could read her body language like no other. She wanted him to save her from those telling her what to do, forcing her to test the truth of his devotion.

He would now clear a path to their future.

‡

K
eane closed and
locked the deadbolt installed in the door of Ashlyn’s apartment behind him, noting that the locks had been changed recently with a high quality replacement set. He glanced at the casement and noted the heavy brass strike box for the deadbolt. The next intruder would need considerable better lock picking or bumping skills to negotiate that minefield of security pin tumblers—unless, of course, he’d used a key.

What he was not surprised by was the faint scent of lavender that hung in the air. It had been her favorite fragrance in the candles she’d preferred to have in her home, not that he’d ever been here before. She’d purchased a couple for the hotel room where she’d stayed during that high-profile case for those few months in California, opening up to him about her likes and dislikes.

Keane had thought he’d known what to expect when he’d walked through the front door, but all it did was remind him that he really didn’t know her at all. Their time together was a microcosm of her world—representative but not all encompassing, as he would soon find out.

Ashlyn had already crossed the small entryway and started to turn right onto the grey slate of her kitchen. The modern stainless steel appliances, along with the Divani white-leathered tall chairs, were strikingly different than the antiquated worn oak office furniture she used at work. Keane immediately reached out and wrapped his fingers around the cuff of her suit jacket. She’d been quiet since receiving the text and that was understandable. He’d been on the phone with Coulter for the majority of the ride to her apartment building, but he wasn’t about to let her wander around her apartment until he’d cleared the place of any immediate threats.

“Let me have a look around first, please,” Keane said in a reassuring tone, motioning for her to stay by the front door. It hadn’t been his intention to worry her any further, but her blue eyes creased in the corners indicating he’d done just that. He set her briefcase on the table to his left. “I won’t be very long.”

Keane walked past a thin side table up against the wall of the foyer. It was clear of the vase that had once been there, at least from what the initial crime report had detailed. He prevented himself from directing her to take off her heels, knowing how sore the cuts had to be after standing on her feet all day. He refrained though. Her comfort wasn’t his place to manage any longer.

The apartment had an open layout, making it easier for him to ascertain risks. Her living room consisted of what looked like Brazilian hardwood flooring. A rather large white sheepskin rug lay in the middle of the contemporary furniture arrangement, consisting of a low-seated leather sectional with a couple of grey pillows to bring out the flooring in the kitchen. At least, that’s what he thought she was going for. It was hard for him to picture her living in a place right off the cover of a design magazine, for that’s what this appeared to be.

Keane could see an open arch at the other end of the apartment leading to what seemed to be her office. He chose the small hallway on his left first, calculating correctly that it would lead to her bedroom. Now this décor matched her personality better.

The rich color of burgundy in various shades was strewn throughout the room, from the comforter and pillows on her king-sized bed to the long curtains that were currently closed to prevent prying eyes from seeing inside of her sanctuary. Her bedroom furniture was dark cherry.

The bedroom and master bath weren’t disturbed and Keane quickly made his way back down the short passageway. Ashlyn was standing in the foyer with her high heels in one hand and her purse in the other. He figured it wouldn’t take long for her to remove the shoes to stand on the cold foyer floor and enjoy a bit of relief. A strand of her chestnut hair had come loose and it was obvious that her previous anxiety was slowly turning to anger.

Good.

Keane didn’t like the thought of this lowlife scum causing Ashlyn to be afraid of her own shadow. She’d always been a rather strong-willed woman. This situation wasn’t going to be the one thing that brought her down. They had a lot to talk about personally, but now wasn’t the time as he needed to finish his sweep.

It didn’t take Keane long to search the rest of Ashlyn’s apartment. He took a look at her office, the small half-bath attached to it, along with what appeared to be a storage closet. Everything appeared in place. It was then that he started to study her security system as he made his way back to the main area.

No wonder Ashlyn’s pursuer had tapped into her computer. There were no internal video cameras to allow this deviant scumbag to obtain a visual of her office, just as Coulter had said. The only surveillance camera Keane located was in the living room to monitor the front entrance from across the room. He began to get an uneasy feeling about where Coulter was taking this.

“We’re clear,” Keane called out, making his way back down the hallway to where Ashlyn had now walked back into the kitchen. She no longer had her shoes and purse in hand. “Agent Coulter should be here any minute.”

“Let’s hope the cyber unit he’s working with found something useful,” Ashlyn added on, sounding somewhat agitated. She hadn’t even bothered to look around, telling him that Coulter’s reason for actually stopping by wasn’t on her mind. “How is it someone can send a text message and the world’s best cyber technicians can’t figure out who’s sending it? I mean, everything this man has done has been through technology of some sort—my security feeds, my computer, my phone. I—”

“Not everything,” Keane gently reminded her as he took off his suit jacket. He draped it over the back of one of the chairs. He would have suggested Ashlyn do the same, but he’d seen her like this numerous times in the past…although it had always been about the court case she’d been working on at the time. Nothing had really changed, and yet everything in their lives was different from their own perspectives. He pushed the thoughts of the past to the side. “He made his way into your home at some point. It’s my job to figure out how and keep it from happening again.”

“Don’t you mean Special Agent Coulter?”

“No. It’s his responsibility to locate the person doing this. Mine is to ensure your personal safety at all times.”

Keane could see that Ashlyn wanted to know exactly why he’d 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 sounded on the door before Ashlyn had taken two steps toward her bedroom.

“I’ll get that,” Keane said, motioning for her to stop. He didn’t want her going into her bedroom right now. “Why don’t you wait to change until after we meet with Coulter? I don’t want to keep him waiting, especially since he’d like to be gone before Victor arrives.”

Keane quickly sent a text message to Brody with the names of the people needing a background check. It would most certainly raise some red flags, but Calvert had enough pull in these political circles to see that the ruffled feathers were soothed. Keane added a quick note requesting the apartment building’s security footage before confirming who was at the door prior to answering.

“Coulter,” Keane greeted the agent, looking over the other gentleman who accompanied him. The tall, thin man was carrying a small black duffel bag. “Anything on the text message?”

“Nothing. Probably cloned the guy’s phone while he was at lunch or waiting for the bus,” Coulter responded after shaking Keane’s hand and then doing the same with Ashlyn. Well, the agent’s response wasn’t exactly what Keane wanted to hear at the moment, but this case had various revolving parts that didn’t seem to want to slow down any. “It was a local day worker’s phone and somehow the perpetrator managed to ping the text off every cell tower available in the city. Ashlyn, this is Special Agent West. He’ll be conducting the search we spoke of earlier.”