“I’m sorry, Shane.” Her voice was tremulous. “I wouldn’t have brought Troy here if I’d known . . . if I’d known . . .” She was unable to finish her sentence.
Damn, he never should have let them come home by themselves. If anything had happened to them—either of them . . . Shane pushed the rest of the thought from his mind. His heart was racing just thinking about what he wanted to do that creep Thompkins. But he needed to reassure Carly right now. The look on her face was scaring the hell out of him.
He reached up to cradle her cheek. “Are you kidding? He’ll be talking about this for years. Don’t worry about him. You’re both safe. That’s all that matters.”
The cop cleared his throat as Beckett nearly knocked Shane off his haunches. The dog buried his face in Carly’s lap and she wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek on his big head. Shane stood up, eyeing the cop who was looking between Shane and Carly.
“You guys were supposed to pick up Thompkins hours ago. What the hell happened?” Shane maneuvered the cop farther away from Carly.
“Baltimore PD is trying to serve the arrest warrant now, but the guy is pretty slippery. We don’t even know if Thompkins did this,” Pretty Boy said slapping, his notepad against the palm of his hand.
Shane was so exasperated he was about to rip the notepad from his hands when Donovan strode into the room, his cell phone pressed to his ear. He ended the call when he saw Shane. The vibrating in Shane’s shorts stopped at the same time.
“I just got here,” Shane said by way of explanation.
“What have you got?” Donovan asked the two detectives.
“Looks like your run-of-the-mill house trashing,” Rumpled suit said. “The perp wasn’t on the premises when the patrol officers arrived. The sliding glass door was jimmied. Pissed-off ex-boyfriend, maybe?”
Boyfriend? Was this guy kidding? Shane wanted to lunge for the cop’s neck but Donovan stepped in between them, which probably was a good thing since half the occupants of the room were armed and stupid.
“Chill out, Devlin!” Donovan barked at him, shoving him toward a wall. “I got this!”
Shane sucked in a few deep breaths. Donovan slowly pivoted around, both hands on his hips, his tone razor sharp.
“Joel Thompkins is a stalker who has violated a standing restraining order twice today. He has never been or never will be a boyfriend of Miss March’s. He illegally entered her office and her home, destroying personal property. He’s a criminal with an arrest warrant outstanding. Do I make myself clear?” Rumpled Suit chewed a little harder on his straw as Donovan stared him down.
“Until we get prints back, we can’t confirm Thompkins even did this,” Pretty Boy reiterated. “And it’s standard operating procedure in these types of break-ins to ask about any relationships the victim may have. You’d be surprised how often that occurs.”
Stepping away from the wall, Shane clenched his hands into fists of frustration.
“Hey, we’re on the same side, here,” the detective said, eyeing Shane. “We want to catch the guy who did this as much as you do.”
“Joel was here,” Carly’s soft voice interrupted them. “Don, he was in this house. I know it.”
Donovan ran a hand over his bald head. “Yeah, Carly. I know. His car was in front of his place when they went to serve the arrest warrant, but he wasn’t home. His roommate let them in and they searched the place and found a rental car receipt. Apparently, he’s been driving around in a rental van while avoiding his apartment all week. They put a BOLO out with the new information. The guards only knew to stop him by the make of his vehicle. I’ve got someone checking the surveillance tape and the log book at the guard shack right now. We should know when he was here.” He crouched down in front of Carly, placing a hand on her knee. “They’ll get him tonight, Carly. Don’t you worry.”
Carly chewed some more on her bottom lip before managing a nod for Donovan.
“If this was Thompkins,” Rumpled Suit said, holding his hands up before either man could argue with him, “we need to make sure we document this mess and get any evidence to the district attorney’s office. It’ll help make your case stronger when the patrol officers pick him up.”
“I appreciate it,” Donovan said, shaking hands with both detectives before they walked away. Donovan stood with his back to Shane and Carly. He clasped both hands behind his head and took a deep breath. His suit jacket pulled against his back, revealing the bulge of his gun. Shane stepped forward, pulling Donovan out of earshot of Carly.
“Since when do you wear a gun?” he asked Donovan quietly.
Donovan pinned him with another of his military tough-guy looks. “Since I went with the cops into that perv’s apartment thirty minutes ago,” he whispered. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shane, this dude is sick. His apartment was filled with pictures. Pictures of Carly. Pictures of her mom and the actress who played Carly in the movie. It was like a shrine.”
He didn’t think it was possible, but Shane’s whole body tensed further.
“I’m no shrink, but it’s obvious the guy’s got some crazy obsession with Carly. It’s quite possible he’s under the delusion she has the same feelings for him. Seeing her with you seems to have set him off.” Donovan gestured toward the mess around them. “Because now, he’s one pissed-off crazy dude.”
“You should have let me beat the crap out of him when I had the chance.” Fury—and a little bit of guilt—ripped through Shane’s body. He wanted Thompkins locked up and out of Carly’s life for good.
“We’ll get him,” Donovan said. “Hopefully tonight, but maybe not until tomorrow or the next day. In the meantime, she needs to get out of here. Preferably, out of town for a few days. Asia left for L.A. earlier or I’d send her to stay there. I need to call Hank and see if the team has a place she can stay.”
“She can come home with us.” Until he spoke, neither one noticed the kid standing behind Shane. With his arms crossed over his chest and the patented Devlin look on his face, he faced Shane without flinching. “If you say no, then I’m stayin’ here with her.”
Something stirred in Shane’s gut; he wasn’t sure if it was annoyance or pride. Whatever it was, the kid wasn’t budging. Shane dragged a hand through his hair, mussing it further.