Deadly Promises (Tracers #2.5)(20)
“Wait a minute,” the intruder whispered. His eyebrows lowered over soulless eyes that pondered on something. “I know you.”
Shit. He hated to be right some days. “No you don’t.”
When CeCe slammed a drawer this time it was followed by her footsteps rushing back to the living room.
The guy’s face shifted from trying to place Jeremy to problem solved. “I do know you.”
Jeremy would have liked another minute to find out how this guy knew him, but he didn’t want that conversation in front of CeCe or the police. Just before she entered the living room, Jeremy slammed his weapon against the perp’s head hard enough to knock him out for a long while.
“What happened?” CeCe hurried over to him.
“He lunged at me. When I get him rolled over, tape his hands,” Jeremy instructed her.
When he had the perp on his face and hands behind his back, Jeremy nodded. CeCe tore off a strip of tape she slipped under the man’s wrists and wrapped the length around and around with shaking hands.
“Tape his ankles too.” Jeremy waited until she finished to send her to the kitchen. “Call the police and tell them someone broke into your home, but that he’s contained.”
She hesitated for a second, then rushed away and called. After turning the guy around and dragging him over to prop against the couch so they could get the front door open, Jeremy stepped into the kitchen.
CeCe hung up her wall phone. “They’re on the way.”
Jeremy walked over to her but kept his body where he could watch the intruder for movement. “Have any idea what he wants?”
She shook her head. “He asked me if I was a statue at the park Sunday.”
That damn photo in the newspaper. “Someone in your office must have given out your address.”
“They’re not supposed to and why would he go to that trouble? I mean, I don’t drive a fancy car or live in an expensive home and—” She paused in the middle of arguing. Her thought process ended with the realization of why a stalker would track down her home address. What color she’d regained flushed from her face again. “Do you think he came here to… attack me.”
“I don’t know.” The guy didn’t hit Jeremy as a stalker or petty thief. He was too professional feeling.
Jeremy ignored the disconcerting sensation that something was odd here and pulled CeCe into his arms before her knees folded. “It’s okay. He’s going to jail as soon as the police get here.”
She hooked her arms around his neck and held on as if he was her only lifeline.
Jeremy hugged her and rubbed her back to calm her, but he had to do something with his weapon before the police arrived. He eased her over to sit at the kitchen table then crossed to the cabinets where he slipped his weapon onto a high shelf inside. During missions for BAD, he carried every conceivable weapon known to man, but when in civilian mode Jeremy was subject to the laws of this country that stated a prior convicted felon could not carry a weapon. Since BAD technically did not exist, he couldn’t claim his felonies were part of his job and committed while in the service of his country.
He turned back to CeCe to find her gazing intently between him and the cabinet. “What are you doing?”
Jeremy considered what he could tell her on the way back to where she sat. He dropped down in front of her. “The gun belongs to a friend of mine who asked me to keep it for him while he was out of the country. I grabbed it when I saw the guy climb into your yard. I don’t have a permit to carry. No point in complicating things.”
She was still too pale and the skin on her arm beneath his fingers had chilled. Part of the problem was the skimpy outfit she had on.
“Sit tight.” He got a lap blanket out of the living room, checked their prisoner, who hadn’t made a sound, and came back to the kitchen. Wrapping the soft blanket around her shoulders, he leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“I’ll get you some water.” On the way to the sink, Jeremy glanced at the perp again. The more he studied her unwanted visitor, the more he thought he knew him. Not an encouraging sign considering what Jeremy did for BAD.
He’d like to go through the intruder’s pockets to look for anything that would explain why he had broken into CeCe’s house, but CeCe might wonder why he’d do that.
Plus, if this guy was some sort of professional he wouldn’t be carrying identification.
Jeremy had just handed the water to CeCe when flashing lights pierced the sheer drapes covering her living room windows. Uniformed officers showed up at the front door by the time Jeremy reached it to let them in. He handed the Glock to the police, gave both officers a quick rundown of what happened, and told them he had defense training and got the jump on the guy.
The police replaced the duct tape with handcuffs and carried their perp out to the cruiser.
This guy’s lack of ability to speak saved Jeremy from finding out if CeCe would have backed up his lie about having a weapon. He hated to put her in that position, but the only other option would have been to explain why he had a criminal record.
Couldn’t do that unless he wanted BAD to come looking for his head.
The police took CeCe’s statement. She hesitated once when they mentioned her having to testify in court. That was easy to understand. She was afraid to see the thug again, but Jeremy would pull strings to be with her when that day came.