Something About You (FBI/US Attorney #1)(79)

“We’re good,” he finally said after finishing up with the third and last floor.

Cameron breathed easier after that, and even more so when Jack brought her over to the security keypad next to the door that led to the rooftop deck.

He pushed a few buttons on the keypad, then showed her how it worked. “We’ve got alarms on all the doors and windows, and glass-break sensors on every floor. You can arm the entire house by pushing this button right here. You should see this red light come on, and then you know you’re good to go. You should always have the system armed. I’ve programmed in a short delay—you’ll only have ten seconds after you enter the house to disarm the system before the alarm goes off. The security team put panels next to all the doors, so that should give you enough time. To disarm the alarm, you just enter the security code.”

“What’s the code?” she asked.

“You pick—any four-character combination that’s easy to remember. Not your birthday or anything obvious like that.”

He watched as she entered the code. “What’s five-two-two-five?”

“It spells ‘Jack’ on the keypad. Should be easy enough to remember.”

They headed back downstairs to the main floor. Jack had left her suitcase in the foyer, and Cameron grabbed it to bring it up to her bedroom to unpack.

Jack’s arms came around her and turned her to face him. “Do you want to talk about whatever has been bothering you all afternoon?” His eyes searched hers carefully. “You were quiet during the car ride.”

Of course he would pick up on that. “There is something I want to talk to you about,” she admitted. “But I thought maybe we could get settled in first.” She saw the stubborn set to his jaw. “I’m guessing you’re not so keen on that plan.”

He took her by the hand and led her through the kitchen and into the great room. “Good guess.” He gestured for her to take a seat on the couch.

“How come every time we have one of these conversations, I feel like I should be in a room with a two-way mirror and a bright light shining in my face?”

“Then I’ll spare you the usual interrogation tactics and get right down to it,” Jack said. “Is it us?”

“Is what us?”

“Whatever’s bothering you—is it about us?”

Cameron looked at him strangely. “Of course not—this was probably the most incredible weekend of my life. Why would I suddenly have a problem with us?”

She saw the tension drain out of Jack’s face. He took a seat on the couch next to her. “Oh. Good.” He grinned and threw his arm along the back of the couch, getting comfortable. “Me, too, you know. The most incredible weekend part.”

“But you’re still not going to like what I have to say.”

Glowering ensued.

“Do I get the bright light now?” Cameron asked teasingly.

“I think I might skip the light and go straight to that paper clip technique we discussed earlier if you don’t start talking.”

“Just promise me that you’ll consider everything I have to say before you answer.”

Jack looked her over with his dark, predatory eyes. “All right,” he finally agreed.

Cameron tucked her knees underneath her. “I’m obviously very worried about the Robards investigation. This is a strain on me, on you, and it puts everyone I know at risk. I know your team is doing all they can, but nobody’s come up with anything so far.”

She could tell from the way Jack’s jaw twitched that he didn’t like being reminded of this.

“I hate that the ball is all in this ass**le’s court, and that I pretty much just have to sit here and wonder if he’s going to come after me again.”

Cameron could tell from Jack’s expression that he liked being reminded of that even less.

“But maybe there’s a way we can control the situation,” she said.

“How do you propose we do that?” Jack asked.

“That’s what I was thinking about in the car. And I might’ve come up with something. We figured out that there’s a leak—perhaps we can use that to our advantage. We know that the killer knew how to avoid the hotel cameras. But what if we spread the word that you guys have identified a guest who was using a camcorder in the Peninsula that evening—maybe for a vacation or a bachelor party, something like that. You let it be known that this guest caught on tape a man wearing a gray hooded T-shirt, blazer, and jeans, exiting the hotel shortly after Mandy’s murder. You say that the FBI crime lab is trying to enhance the tape to come up with an image of the guy’s face, and that you’re hopeful you’ll be able to identify him soon. Hopefully word will spread to the right person.”

Jack got up from the couch. Odd that she’d ever found him hard to read—because right then she had absolutely no problem seeing how much he disliked this idea.

“You know as well as I do that a man exiting the hotel wearing a gray hooded T-shirt around the time of the murder means nothing by itself,” Jack said. “You are the one who can tie that person to the murder. The only one. And the killer knows that. So what you’re really suggesting is that we give Mandy Robards’s murderer extra incentive to get you out of the picture.”

“I’m suggesting we motivate the murderer to make a move that we will be prepared for.”