Close To Danger (Westen #4)(43)

It hadn’t been today. Her bag had been by her bed all day and he hadn’t been alone with it. In fact, she’d put it by the bed last night. Had he come into the room while she slept and taken it apart? No, she would’ve known, she was sure of it.

The cabin door opened and closed to her right, his body filling her peripheral vision.

“Chloe?” he said, hesitation in his voice.

She held up the hand with the battery in it to silence him. Her head cocked to one side, she continued to concentrate on the phone in her other hand. “What I can’t figure out is when you did it.”

“Last night.”

Slowly, she turned to stare at him. “While I was asleep?”

“Yes and no.”

Anger started to seep through her puzzlement. “Exactly what does that mean?”

“You were sleeping like the dead in my car. Thought it best to do it while you couldn’t complain.” He removed his coat and hat, hung them on the peg next to hers by the door then pulled off his boots, setting them right beside hers. In the kitchen, he turned on the oven and took the thawed venison steaks from the freezer bags. Laying them on a platter, he began covering them with spices, dry mustard and a mixture of olive oil, Worcestershire sauce and the juice of a lime. “The whole point of bringing you here was to get you away from the vicinity of your stalker. The last thing we needed was for him to find you through your phone’s GPS.”

“I understand that. You could’ve just asked me to turn it off.”

“Could’ve. However, even turning off the GPS doesn’t mean it can’t be used to track you. Someone who has the skills or enough money to hire a hacker can reactivate it and still trace where the phone is or has been. I didn’t want to take the chance. The only sure way no one could track you was to remove the battery.”

His casual explanation and damned common-sense approach to the problem of covering her tracks stirred the flames of the ire she’d been keeping restrained. She stormed around the kitchen island and poked him in the chest with the phone.

“So, without my permission or an explanation, you just dismantled my phone, leaving both my sisters with no way to contact me and no knowledge that I’m not dead on the side of the road? And no way for me to be sure they’re safe and sound.”

“They’re safe,” he said matter-of-factly, reaching into the old-fashioned potato bin and pulling out two baking potatoes. He washed them thoroughly, poked holes in them with a fork and put them in the oven.

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Bobby is with Gage. He’ll protect her with his life.”

“True. Just as she would him. But did you forget? Dylan is still in Cincinnati. The exact place my stalker is. How do you know she’s safe? Because I sure as hell don’t.” She turned over the phone and started opening it.

“Don’t,” he said, his hand coming down over hers, stilling her movement. “I told you, your younger sister is safe. You need to leave that shut down.”

She stared into his blue eyes—intense eyes laced with concern and said trust me. “Okay, I’ll leave it alone, but only if you explain to me why you’re so sure Dylan isn’t in danger.”

He released her and pulled two tumblers out of his cabinet. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey they’d shared after the wedding and some ice from the fridge, he filled both with a little of the alcohol. “Because I asked a friend to keep an eye on her.”

Chloe blinked. “You what?”

“When it became apparent to me you were in danger, I figured it might overflow onto your sister. I called in a favor and put Bulldog on her.” He handed her a glass, then went back to the leather couch, sitting down and stretching his feet out in front of the fire.

“You have a bulldog watching my sister?” she asked, coming to perch on the opposite corner of the couch.

“No. Not a bulldog. Bulldog,” he said before sipping his drink.

Chloe cast a dubious look his direction and gritted her teeth. This conversation was like trying to get a hostile witness to tell the truth.

“What or who is Bulldog?”

“Bulldog is one of my former team members.”

“Oh great. You’ve got some super-macho-special ops man following my baby sister around. You do know she’s a doctor and is going to get suspicious if she finds your man constantly in her way. She’ll be reporting she has a stalker.”

“First, Bulldog isn’t following her constantly. He has a unique skill set that makes him perfect for watching your sister.”

“And what’s that?”

“He’s a physician’s assistant trained specifically for surgery.”

Chloe nodded, actually admiring his plan. “That’s a good cover. But how will we keep him from hitting on my sister? You’ve seen her. She’s beautiful, brilliant and funny. She has more than one women-don’t-belong-in-surgery male doctor questioning her abilities because she’s beautiful and a few others who would like to get in her bed. How do you know your man won’t make the situation worse?”

The corner of Wes’s lip lifted. “Bulldog bats for the other team.”

Chloe nearly choked on the whiskey she’d sipped a moment earlier. Wes reached over and patted her back as she sputtered. She inched away, batting at his hand to stop.