The Mercenary Next Door (Rogues and Rescuers #2) - Lucy Leroux Page 0,69

didn’t know her heart had stopped until the bottle slowed to a stop, and no one ran out to confront them.

“I guess he really isn’t here,” Rosamie said, risking raising her voice a fraction. “Although I’m surprised he hasn’t had the maid stop by.”

“Yeah,” Laila agreed. Joseph employed a cleaning service. A rotating team of five no-nonsense Hispanic women came every Sunday. Judging from the mess, they had skipped this week. “He must have canceled them.”

“Uh-huh.” The attitude-laden acknowledgment told Laila exactly what Rosamie thought of that.

It wasn’t real evidence, nothing they could take to the police, but both knew this kind of behavior was out of character for her normally carefree and privileged ex.

A few more minutes of searching yielded nothing. Eventually, there was only one more place to check.

Laila jerked her head in the direction of the bedroom, her hands damp under her gloves. By silent mutual accord, she and Rosamie tiptoed to the bedroom door. Turning the handle, she pushed it open and peeked inside.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she fought the urge to turn tail and run.

They had been wrong. Joseph was home.

Freezing, Laila threw out an arm, checking Rosamie’s progress once more.

Joseph’s six-foot frame was splayed over the bed. He was lying face-down, shirtless, wearing only a pair of cargo shorts with his bare feet hanging over the edge. An empty beer bottle sat a few inches away from his hand. A few more were scattered on the floor, but thanks to the plush white carpeting surrounding the bed, they hadn’t broken. However, judging from the smell in the room, it appeared as if they’d still been partially filled when he dropped them.

Rosamie’s nails dug into her arm. Let’s go, she mouthed, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head.

That was Laila’s impulse, too, but they were already here. And Joseph wasn’t moving. His breathing hadn’t changed at all since she’d opened the door.

Whether his recent behavior had something to do with Jasmine’s death, Joseph was making himself vulnerable now. And there was no way to know how long that would last.

“If he’s here, so is the phone,” she mouthed, shaking off Rosamie’s restraining hand. Her friend made the tiniest of squeaks in protest, but Laila shushed her with an admonishing finger.

Slipping out of her shoes, she proceeded in her socks. Rounding the bed, she checked the nightstand, hoping Joe’s phone would be charging inside the drawer through the cables built into the high-tech design.

It wasn’t.

Grimacing, she stepped closer to the bed to check to see if it were in his pockets. But they appeared flat to her eyes. Unless it was underneath him, then it wasn’t in the bedroom either. Crouching, she brought her eyes level to the bed, trying to see if she could see it poking out underneath him.

Joseph groaned, turning his head in her direction. Laila froze. If he woke up right now, they would be eye to eye.

Rosamie waved wildly from the doorway. Holding her breath, Laila backed away, acknowledging the fact she’d probably pushed her luck to the limit. And then her eye fell on the open bathroom door.

The cell phone was lying on the bathmat next to the toilet as if it had fallen out the last time Joseph used the facilities.

Moving like molasses, Laila shifted, inching along until she was inside the bathroom, bending to get the phone. Grabbing the device, she nearly died when it slipped out of her slippery gloves. She caught it just in time, trapping it against her thigh before it hit the floor.

Why didn’t I spring for the leather instead of the cheap cotton?

Getting ahead of herself, she began the seemingly endless journey back to where Rosamie waited. Her friend wasn’t making a sound, but Laila could see the flare of her nostrils as if she were breathing fast. The stun gun was out and pointed at Joe’s prone form. Edging around Rosamie, Laila closed the door of the bedroom, sparing a moment to thank whoever had oiled the hinges.

“C’mon,” she whispered, toeing her shoes back on. Though she half-expected it, Joseph did not wake to chase them down. After cracking the door a sliver to make sure the hallway was empty, they slipped out, closing it carefully. Then they ran down the hall as if the hounds of hell were after them.

Rosamie waited until they were at the stair entrance to speak. “Girl, you are insane! I can’t believe you did that.”

Clutching the phone,

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