“Uh, Boone?”
He stopped. Christie stood a few feet away, concern all over her beautiful face. “Yeah?”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Right. I’m done in here. I have to get Milo’s stuff put together.”
“Okay. I’ll get your suitcase.”
She watched him as he went to the closet, and he forced his thoughts to the here and now. Tonight might be the last time he ever saw her. If they were successful, and he had no doubt they would be, she would go back to her life, and he would go back to his. Maybe he’d figure out a way to check up on her. Make sure she was getting on all right.
No, that would be too difficult. He’d cut it off, make it quick. Say goodbye, and forget about her. When he was back in the world, that’s when he’d find her again. If she were still available—
“Boone?”
“Yeah, right. Suitcase.” He got the bag, in which she’d clearly packed bricks, and headed toward the living room. Christie followed until they reached the kitchen, where she went off to put together a bag of Milo’s supplies.
Boone put the suitcase near the door, then went to the window. It was too soon for the geek to make his move, but he’d be listening. For the next few hours, they’d have to appear happy, confident that they’d be making a successful escape.
Nothing was happening on her street. No one was walking a dog or watering the lawn. It was almost nine, after the dinner hour. Time for TV or homework, or whatever happy families did on a weeknight.
“Is someone out there?”
He turned. Christie was standing in the light from the kitchen, her hair dark and shiny, her T-shirt snug across her breasts and loose in the middle where it hid her Glock. “No, nothing.”
“I know it’s going to hurt your puritan soul, but I’m going to make cookies. You can come and scowl at me if you want.”
“Cookies? Again?”
“See? All’s right with the world.” She shook her head as she headed to the stove.
What the hell. Cookies, ice cream. She was right. Now was no time for denial. She could eat any damn thing she wanted tonight. Tomorrow, when it was over, he’d talk to her about her diet, and see if she’d be willing to make a few—
Shit. Tomorrow, he wouldn’t say a word. She could eat cookies for dinner forever, it was none of his business. He went to the kitchen table and sat down. Milo came over for a pet, and Boone obliged.
He watched as she got out yet another package of frozen cookie dough, then turned on the oven. She wasn’t shaking, or looking over her shoulder. In fact, she seemed remarkably calm. “Hey,” he said, keeping his voice low now that they were in the safe zone.
“Yeah?”
“You okay?”
She came to the table and sat down next to him. “Shockingly, yes. It’s going to go the way it’s going to go. I can’t do anything else to prepare, and I can’t sit here and worry because that wouldn’t do any good, either. So, it’s cookies and hot chocolate. One step at a time. One foot in front of the other.”
“Damn,” he said.
Her lips quirked up on one side. “What does that mean?”
“It means I think you’re pretty amazing.”
“Yeah?”
He nodded.
She leaned over to brush her lips over his. “It’s mutual,” she whispered.
He held her steady with both hands and kissed her, hard. He hoped like hell it wasn’t their last.
THEY FINALLY GOT INTO BED at two. Of course, neither of them would sleep, but they had to keep quiet as well as stay alert. Christie had managed to feed him a half-dozen cookies, and he felt weighed down, even though he knew he was imagining things. Before a battle he liked to feel hungry.
The only thing he was hungry for was more time with her. Now that it was all coming to a close, he felt as if it had gone by in a flash. Forgetting her would take a hell of a lot longer.
Dressed and with her weapon snug in the waistband of her jeans, she crawled into bed and pulled the covers over her body. He got in next and once he was settled, he listened carefully, but there was only the soft sound of her breathing to break the early morning silence.
The worst part of the evening had been taking Milo out. They’d let him run in the backyard, both of them watching, and waited while he found the perfect spot to do his business. The whole time Boone been incredibly aware of Christie’s fear. She hadn’t said anything, but man, the vibes pouring off her were palpable.
He’d comforted her as much as he could, but in the end the only thing that had helped was coming back inside. Of course, that was where the real danger lay. If the geek was going to make his move, it would be sometime in the next few hours. Had it been Boone’s operation, he wouldn’t wait too long. The best time would be when the targets were in the REM cycle, about forty-five minutes after they’d first fallen asleep.
He stiffened as he felt Christie move, but realized quickly that she’d simply touched his side with her fingers. He found her hand with his and gave her a squeeze. What he wanted to do was hold her, but he couldn’t take the chance. They had to mimic sleep, get their breathing slow and steady. Holding Christie would make that impossible.
“I can’t stand this,” she whispered, so softly he just made out the words.
“Yes, you can. Just breathe deeply, visualize shooting the target. Go through every motion carefully and slowly.”
She tugged at his fingers and he heard her take in a long breath.
He, on the other hand, didn’t think at all about shooting, but about who it was that had done this to Christie. His vote was for an ex-boyfriend, someone she’d let go. He could understand being upset about that. Christie wasn’t your average woman, and for a man to find he didn’t measure up would be a real blow. The road from hurt to obsession wasn’t long. Given time, desire had morphed into the need for revenge, coloring his whole existence.
And that made this plan the right plan. This man, this sick bastard, wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of someone else taking “his” Christie away. He’d have to do something tonight, before she could be stolen. But how would he get into the house?
The last time, he’d cut open a window. If he did the same tonight, Boone would know it before he finished the first cut. Seth had put sensors on every windowpane in the place including the bathroom, even though the geek would have to be a child’s size to get in there.
If the geek were smart, and he was, he’d try another route. The garage, perhaps. There was only the one door which was locked, but not with a dead bolt. It wouldn’t be that difficult to jimmy the lock, and get in the house. The disadvantage there was his lack of a camera or microphone. He couldn’t know if someone was lying in wait.
He wouldn’t try the front door. The dead bolt, the likelihood of being spotted by a neighbor. The risks were too great. Which left what?
Milo whined, got up, turned in a circle, then lay down in the exact same spot next to the bed. His head went to his paws, then lifted again, looked about, then down. Boone supposed he was feeling Christie’s anxiety, but didn’t know what to do about it. He could just reach far enough to give the old boy a pet.
His hand went over Milo’s head and neck, and the dog snuffled his appreciation. Boone didn’t mind the contact, either. His thoughts turned back to the geek as he let his hand roam idly down Milo’s flank as he eliminated one entry way then another. His finger brushed against something that stopped him cold.
He touched it