paper rustling, then the sound of a door opening and closing.
He disconnected from the call. No need to run the battery down on the bug, not when he wanted the battery to last until he took Emma to the cabin. He glanced in his rearview mirror. Emma and Ryker shouldn’t pass by where he was parked, but there was no need to take a chance of being seen. He started his truck and pulled away from the curb.
While he’d wanted two listening devices in her apartment, he’d have to be satisfied with one. It would be too much to hope that the stars would line up again like they had this evening with all her apartment neighbors away.
He hated that he had to resort to planting the bug, but he’d had no choice. She should have told Ryker to leave her alone, but that wasn’t her way. Emma was like him, too kind for her own good. That’s what made their relationship so perfect. He’d even decided it was wrong to kill Ryker unless he did something horrible. Emma loved him, not the ranger. Unless the listening device confirmed that the ranger was a threat to Emma or that he was pushing her into a relationship, he would let him live.
Ryker would never have her. Emma Winters was destined to be his. And soon.
And that meant he had to stock the cabin. His heart raced at the thought of showing her what he’d created for her. A quick glance at the back seat confirmed the framed photograph was still there. It was his favorite of all he’d taken of Emma, and she would be so surprised. And pleased. He had the perfect place for it in their love nest. He would take it to the cabin tomorrow.
38
She called again, and her dad didn’t answer. Maybe Sam should have checked her apartment this time. Movement on her balcony caught Emma’s eye just as she spied the white butcher paper on the counter, and she released the breath she’d been holding. The tension in her shoulders eased as well. Her dad always bought his steaks at a little shop in town where the butcher wrapped them in white paper. Then she saw him bent over the grill.
Emma hated how all this stalking made her paranoid. Suzy rubbed against her leg, and she knelt beside the kitten. “It’s okay. This is your new home,” she said, smoothing her left hand down the cat’s bony back. “We need to get you fattened up.” She filled a bowl with water and set it on the floor.
“You stay here,” Emma said to the cat as she crossed to the back door and stepped out on her balcony, flipping on the outside light. The balcony was one perk she really enjoyed about the apartment. She could relax out here and come and go on the stairs leading down to the back parking lot—if she ever parked back there. Her dad looked up from the grill.
“Hey, honey. Didn’t know you were home yet,” he said, closing the lid.
Even in his midfifties, Jack Winters had very little gray in his hair, just a little around his temples. Wearing jeans that covered his rich brown cowboy boots and a pullover under his denim jacket, he looked nothing like the hospital executive he was, or even the nurse he used to be. Put a cowboy hat on him, and he looked ready to round up a few head of cattle.
“And you really shouldn’t leave that back door unlocked.”
Emma’s gaze shot to the door. She couldn’t have left it unlocked. She always double-checked to make sure everything was secured before she left. But had she this morning? It’d been hectic with Sam and Nate both here, and then the DNA test . . .
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again,” she said.
“How’s your hand?”
She glanced at her bandaged right hand. “It doesn’t hurt as much . . . I wonder if I can take this bulky wrap off?”
“We’ll see. I’ll check it in a bit.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Sam will be here soon, so I’m going in to take a shower and change.”
Her dad eyed the dirt on her knees and scuffed toes of her boots. “What have you been doing?”
“Nothing major. Just excavating a bit at Mount Locust,” she said, keeping her tone casual.
“The slave cemetery?”
“No. Corey Chandler has a client who doesn’t want us to bother the cemetery. I’m trying to work something out there.” Then before he could ask more