“Mother?”
“You’ll understand if you spend much time here.”
“Are she and Ash…?”
He glanced at me. “Of course not!”
I shrugged. “You can’t blame me for being curious.”
“He’s her boss.”
I wanted to point out that that rule didn’t seem to fly much around here, considering what we’d been doing when Ash texted him a couple of hours ago. But I held my tongue. On that point, anyway.
Donovan pulled me across the room to an array of computers that were balanced somewhat precariously over a low desk. Tucked behind them was quite a surprise. When Donovan told me about this computer guy who created this program that monitored my house day and night, I’d imagined a caricature of a nerd. Someone small and wearing heavy glasses. Instead, I found myself looking at a slightly smaller version of Ash.
David had the same dark hair as Ash, but his was much longer, a tangle of curls that touched his collar and threatened to fall into his eyes. And those eyes…where did they get such gorgeous green eyes? Chiseled jaw, full lips, and those broad shoulders…lady killers, both of them. The fact that David was in a chair, fingerless gloves on his hands to help him get around on his own without the threat of blisters, was no detractor. Not to me. If not for Donovan, I might have seriously considered an offer from either of the Grayson brothers.
“Ash said you had something to show us?”
David didn’t even look away from his computer screens. He tapped something into his computer and, almost instantly, a picture filled all ten or twelve of the screens.
“That’s the best I could clean it up,” David said.
I wasn’t even sure what it was we were looking at. But then I began to see the vague outline of a human body, the curve of the head and the roundness of the shoulders. I moved closer behind David so I could see it more straight on.
“Is that the person who was outside my house?”
“That’s him. Or her.”
“Why do you say her?” Donovan asked.
“The width of the shoulders, the size of the head…it’s either a small man or an average-sized woman.”
I stared at the image, trying to see something that I couldn’t. It was dark. The house was dark—why did I pick that shade of blue again?—and the clothing the person was wearing was dark. Therefore, it all just sort of blended together. There was nothing to see but outlines.
It was like trying to identify your father in a blurred photograph. Impossible.
“I don’t see anything,” I said before Donovan or David could ask.
“I didn’t think you would,” David said. “But I was hoping something about it might nudge your memory.”
I shook my head again. How could it nudge my memory when it just looked like a blob? A blob didn’t kill Joe.
Donovan took my hand and pulled me back toward him. I caught David looking, curiosity clear in his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. He simply turned back to the computer and punched a few more letters and numbers into his keyboard. Again the screen filled with one image, this one clearly a live feed outside of my house. Outside my bedroom window to be exact.
There were people moving around in the dead grass, doing something with the bottom edge of the windowsill.
“Santa Monica police?” Donovan asked.
“Yeah. They’ve been trying to figure out what the perp was doing all morning, but they still have no clue. Last I heard, they thought that maybe the perp was trying to set a device to the window. Something explosive.”
Donovan nodded. “Just a little C4 there would probably have taken out the whole room.”
“Do you think we’re dealing with ex-military?” David asked.
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“I’ll check it out,” he said, changing the screens back to the multitude of code and images that had been there when we first walked up. Donovan tugged at my hand, turning to head back across the room.
“He’s gone,” he whispered near my ear.
I glanced back and, sure enough, David was clearly consumed by whatever it was he was doing.
“Come eat,” Rose called to us from the kitchen.
In addition to being the office manager, she was also quite an accomplished chef. She’d whipped up lovely tomato and cheese omelets while we were talking to David. Since I hadn’t eaten the night before, I was starving and quite grateful for the delicious concoction. Rose smiled when I complemented her, but her attention was clearly on Donovan.
“Joss’ case resolved itself last night. She’ll be back in town this afternoon.”
Donovan nodded as he tucked into his eggs. “Good for her.”
“She’ll be ready for a new case this evening. You know her, never likes to be idyll.”
“I know.” Donovan shifted in his chair. “I’m sure something will come up.”
Rose glanced at me, then focused on Donovan for a long second. “Okay,” she said softly, touching his shoulder as she headed back to her desk.