“You sure sound fine.” He dropped his hand. “The color rushed out of your face for a second, but it’s coming back along with that tone.”
She thought about pushing past him but wasn’t willing to give him the easy out. “What tone?”
“The one where you sound like you’re barely tolerating my existence.”
“Okay, that’s about right.” Then the reality of the moment hit her with full force. “You’re at my house again.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
Of course he thought that explained everything. Standing there in his usual black suit, but this time with a blue tie. He was really changing it up. “I thought we talked about this.”
“You threatened me with a bat. I ignored it.”
“You’re being over-the-top creepy again.” Just when she thought he’d pulled back from the edge and eased into human territory, this sort of thing happened. Not that she knew what was really happening, but she sure planned to find out. “Did you break into my house?”
He had the nerve to frown at her. “Does that strike you as my style?”
“No, you’d slip through the air-conditioning vent or something.” Though she had to admit for a shadowy figure who insisted no one know his name or be able to find him, he seemed to spend a lot of time in public. Near her. On her street.
This time he sighed at her. “Your imagination is a bit out of control.”
She was about to demand a real explanation when a familiar face came into view. He walked right up behind Wren and stopped beside him. “Detective Cryer?”
Rick Cryer, the Maryland police officer from Tiffany’s case. Here in DC, at her house. This felt like the oddest walk down memory lane ever. Worse, Emery had no idea what was going on, and she hated that. Being vulnerable, not having any control, having to depend on others . . . not her thing.
He smiled as he held out a hand to her. “Retired detective, and please call me Rick.”
She shook his hand as her gaze went from him to Wren and back again. “What are you doing here?”
The detective hitched a thumb in Wren’s general direction. “He called me.”
She was two seconds away from needing to sit down. She wasn’t the fainting type and had no intention of starting that nonsense now, but with Wren just popping up in her life, knowing the people she knew, some of her blood left her brain. She couldn’t concentrate long enough and hard enough to put the pieces together in her head.
She inhaled nice and deep and tried to keep her voice from rising to the screaming-for-her-life range. “Okay, someone explain.”
Rick gestured behind him. “His people—”
“Okay, wait.” Already he’d lost her.
Wren turned to the detective. “She’s more difficult than usual this evening. I blame the shock of the police cars.”
“Stop talking.” She actually put a hand on Wren’s chest. She meant to shove him out of the way, but she stayed there . . . touching him. Go figure. She looked at Rick, the detective she’d known for years and always trusted. “Do you know Wren?”
Rick shook his head. “Not in person, but I do know Brian.”
“You mean this guy.” She gestured toward Wren.
The detective threw her a funny look, too, as if her question didn’t make much sense. “Of course.”
She refused to believe she was the confused one. “Don’t say it like that.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand.”
“So, you know Brian, here, and his boss, Wren.” She waited for the detective to nod. “Is Wren a first name or a last name?”
“Let’s stay focused.” Wren put his hand over hers while he talked to the detective. “Is anything missing inside?”
She tried to ignore the warmth and how much bigger his palm was than hers. And forget about the energy surging through her. That meant nothing. She would make sure it meant nothing.
“We’ll need her to look around, but it looks pretty clean,” Rick said.
She let her hand slide down Wren’s chest toward his stomach, just for a second and only a few inches. Enough to feel the firmness and send her mind scrambling again.
She shook her head to push out the wild thoughts and the images that formed right behind them. Added in a bit of throat clearing as she backed up a step. “There actually was a break-in?”
“Brian said Wren’s people saw the lights on inside and some movement, noted you weren’t home and called me. I called the police.” The detective listed off the events as if the words cleared up anything.
Wren’s people? “None of this makes sense.”
The blue light from the police car snapped off and the neighbors wandering around on the street started to head back to the front of their own buildings. The dark sedan didn’t move, and she was pretty sure she saw two guys sitting in it.
Wren touched her arm, right by the elbow. “Maybe you should do a walk-through?”
She pulled away. The whole touching thing was not going to make the next few minutes run any smoother. “All of a sudden you know all the police lingo and hang out with detectives?”
“Wren helped us with an internal department issue a few years back. Sent Brian to work with us,” Rick explained.