Still, Ethan James was just a P.I., not an actual officer. He wasn’t breaking any kind of law by not telling him everything.
Darius made a split-second decision. He lifted his gaze to Ethan’s and shook his head. “Sorry.”
After a long moment of scrutiny, Ethan accepted his answer. He handed Darius a business card. “I’ll be here for a few more days if anything comes to mind. Just call that number.”
Darius accepted the card. “Enjoy your time in Lost Harbor.”
“I always do. Thank you for your help.” With a civil nod, he headed for the door, that same hitch in his stride.
“Wait,” Darius called after him. “Could you email me that photo?”
“Sure.”
Darius gave him his personal email address. Best to keep this whole situation away from his official duties.
As soon as Ethan James left, Darius closed the door behind him. He watched through the front window until he’d driven away in a vehicle that he recognized as one of Lost Harbor’s five rental cars.
He pulled out his phone and searched through his email inbox. When he found the photo, he saved it to his phone and stared at it for a good long while.
What was going on with Catriona/Kate/Robinson/Fletcher?
A footfall sounded from upstairs. Kate was awake and moving around. Even though the soundproofing was generally pretty good, occasionally he heard a thump or a crash. He figured she was moving furniture around on her own, refusing to ask for his help. Independent as ever.
Pocketing his phone, with the photo cued up, he downed the rest of his coffee and pulled a sweater over his head. He’d done Kate a huge favor by buying her some time. The least she could do would be to answer some very reasonable questions.
Then again, so far he’d never had any luck predicting what Kate would do.
Chapter Twelve
Kate wasn’t quite prepared for the high-octane impact of Darius at her door first thing in the morning. In a heathery-brown hand-knit sweater, with his sweatpants molding to the hard muscles of his thighs, he was just…a lot. A lot of man. A lot of gleaming silver-blue eyes and husky shoulders and thick, mussed hair.
Given her two years without sex, shouldn’t she be renting to someone a little lighter on the testosterone?
She sighed and tamped down her automatic reaction to him. “Good morning. You’re up early.”
“It’s not really that early. I’m surprised you aren’t at the farm already.”
“I was up late.” No need to tell him that her sleeplessness was partly his fault. “What’s up? Urgent landlady business?”
“Not exactly. I had a visitor this morning.”
“There’s a lot of that going around, apparently. What’s wrong with people?”
A good smell wafted from him. Coffee was somewhere in the mix, along with freshly showered skin. He must have shaved, because for once she saw no dark stubble on his jaw. Morning Darius—clear-eyed and clean-shaven—was just as attractive as all the other Dariuses she’d encountered.
He didn’t respond to her jab the way he usually did, with light humor. His firm lips didn’t curve into that smile she’d come to anticipate. “This visitor was from out of town. California, in fact.”
Fear stabbed through her, hot and fast. She reared backwards, away from Darius.
Shut the door. Get him out.
She nearly slammed the door in his face, but he stopped it with one hand. Before she could get a word out, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
“Kate, it’s okay.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“What? No.” He frowned in confusion. “Why would he threaten me? He was quite friendly and professional.”
Professional. A professional assassin maybe? She shook herself back to reality. Her father’s crew might be criminals, but they weren’t killers.
“Who was he?” she asked. Might as well get this over with. “Did he give a name?”
“He’s a private investigator named Ethan James, from Los Angeles.”
A private investigator! Her eyes went wide. She’d been careful not to give anyone any forwarding information, just in case it got into the wrong hands. Apparently it had taken an investigator to track her down.
“He was looking for you,” Darius went on. “Two different names came up.”
“What did you tell him?” she asked nervously, biting on a fingernail. She had no clue what an investigator wanted with her, but it was clear what Darius wanted. Answers.
“Nothing. I got rid of him. I figured I’d let you tell me what was going on.”
Oh God, this was bad. Darius probably thought she was on the run from the law, using a fake name, or some