“All my life, I went to boarding schools, and I visited here. After my parents died, I came back for good.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
Zach sounded so sincere, Kim wished she hadn’t brought it up. She never talked about her family or their less-than-close home life. She didn’t need sympathy. She offered empathy only to those who genuinely needed it.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. This neighborhood was all but ignored by the young urban professionals who were buying up the land in the late nineties. Most of us second generation owners renovated and refurbished our family homes. We got lucky to have such nice property in the right zip code.”
Zach gave her a wise, knowing look. “These houses are worth millions because of that zip code.”
“The status associated with these is almost ridiculous.” She waved nonchalantly.
“Why not leave if it makes you feel that way?”
“What way?” Kim crossed her arms and leaned away from him.
“Cold and detached.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve touched a nerve. We don’t have to talk about it. Let’s move on.”
He had more than touched a nerve. He’d run his six-foot-four self all over her central nervous system. Accepting the house had been a final thank-you for all of the years of boarding school, holidays alone and lonely nights. She’d taken it with bitter acceptance from their attorney at their graveside funeral. She, the child of spies, had hardly seen them.
Now she was living in their home, her home now, and being stalked as they used to stalk others for information. Kim shook off the ghosts of her parents, and needed coffee. Instead, she bit her nails; her one vice. At the door of the keeping room, Kim went ahead and walked out, hoping Zach would get the hint, but he ignored her.
“Why didn’t you just sell?”
“I couldn’t. As much as I disagreed with my folks, in their own way they loved me. I never told them how much they hurt me by not being home to care for me, but that hardly seemed the point when you’re summoned to a hospital in the middle of the night to hear your mother’s final words.”
Zach didn’t look at her. He simply stared at the floor and nodded. “I—understand. You’re very lucky.”
Kim hardly expected this. For Zach to become all maudlin and shake her unwavering opinion of her parents was unnerving. “I hardly feel that way.”
“Sure, she was able to tell you how she really feels. It’s so much better than getting that phone call and finding out she died alone.”
You’ve been a wonderful daughter. Well done. Then she’d slipped away.
“What do I do now?” Kim rubbed her neck, ready to shut the door for another two years.
“We change everything. Locks, doors, bushes and windows. Why don’t you have a dog?”
Kim felt herself frowning. “I’m never home, and a dog needs love.”
An impertinent smirk crossed Zach’s face, and Kim wanted to retract her answer. “No, they don’t,” he said. “They need food and commands on who and what to bite.”
His phone buzzed and he walked out of the keeping room, into the library, ordering items for the house as if he were at a fast-food restaurant. Apparently, she needed a lot of number fours. Kim closed the door, hoping he’d shut the window. She had no plans to go in there again.
“Kim!”
Halfway to the kitchen, her chin hit her chest and she rolled her eyes. “I need coffee,” she complained.
“Be strong,” Zach told her from behind. “Set the alarm and come outside,” he commanded, and waited for her on the outside steps.
Heading outside, Kim hurried up the cobbled walkway leading to the driveway.
“How many windows on the ground level?” Zach asked.
“Ten.”
He relayed the information, then hung up. “This is going to be expensive to put bars up to the windows, but they are tasteful and will blend into the decor of the windows already on your home.”
Shaking her head, Kim stopped walking. “No, I refuse to be imprisoned in my own home.”
They walked the entire property, from the electric gate to the garage. Zach set and reset her sprinkler system. “Why are you doing that?” She was exhausted and hot. Knowing she’d contributed to people trying to hurt her made her sick. She just wanted to be left alone. “Zach?”
“The sprinkler is set to go on at four in the morning, but it’s better to go on at nine in the evening.”
“Why’s that?”
He winked at her. “Easier to collect evidence at nine.”
She shook her head. “You’re lying to me.”
He nodded, pointing to her bushes. “Yes, ma’am, I am. These flowers bloom between 4:00 and 5:00 a.m. If someone comes into the house and have stepped on these flowers, they leave quite a nice evidence trail. Though it’s better when it’s a dry trail. If it’s wet, we can work with it, but it’s harder to get out of the carpet.”
Kim’s eyebrow arched. “Oh.”
Zach was proving to be far more than she’d expected. She shook her shoulders to lose her attitude. But bars up to the windows? The last thing she needed was to lower the property value of the neighborhood.
“Zach, I just can’t have bars on my windows. It would make the wrong statement to the neighbors.”
He nodded and guided her around by her elbow. “I understand. It’s hot. Let’s go inside.”
The sprinkler system went off and Zach tried to dart out of the way, but still got soaked. Kim hurried to the front door and pushed it open to be greeted by a stranger with a gun in his hand.
She screamed and Zach shoved her into the house.
“Welcome home,” the man said.
Shocked, Kim’s mouth hung open. He was a Hood, she could tell, but he’d still scared the mess out of her. She was holding her heart, but Zach had his hand on the small of her back.
“My alarm should be going off.” The words seemed inept, especially since everything was completely silent. Then the long beep sound started and Kim quickly disarmed it.
“Ben Hood,” the stranger said. “Don’t be afraid of me.” He took her hand and rubbed it. Kim was actually embarrassed.
“Did you have to do a show and tell? I’m not a difficult learner,” she said angrily. “I follow directions very well. You didn’t need the visual effects. Are we finished? I’ve had a long day and I would like to relax.”
“Not by a long shot,” Ben continued. “Your alarm was active, but your motion detectors only work in certain rooms and only within a certain range. Did you know there’s an anomaly with this particular system?”
Kim played with the gold cross around her neck. Could the day get any worse? she wondered. “What is it?”
“There can be movement in your home for up to five seconds and the alarm not activate.”
“What?” she said in disbelief.
“This company is based out of California. They factored this feature in because of earthquakes. The average is just a few seconds long, so…”
Kim understood the logic, but didn’t agree with it. “They didn’t want the police to respond to false alarms, so they built in