Page 44 of Misdirection

A moment later, Jason pulled to a stop in front of one of those houses, this one boasting colonial-red brick and an arched alcove over the front door.

Sure enough, Ryan’s car was in the driveway. It was a royal blue BMW 8 series. Olive had done her research.

So Ryanhadcome home after work.

Now Olive needed to find some answers. But first, she would need to explain to him why she had Jason here with her.

As soon as Olive approached Ryan’s front door, she noticed it wasn’t fully closed.

Alarm rang through her.

She started to reach for her gun—which she didn’t have on her at the moment.

Then she reminded herself to watch her reaction. To act like an exec and not a PI.

Before she could say anything, Jason pushed in front of her. “Stay here.”

Hedidhave his gun on him, and he’d already grabbed it.

Olive wanted to argue, but she knew she couldn’t. In order to keep her cover, she needed to let Jason go first.

Using his foot, he nudged the door the rest of the way open. Then he held his gun out as he scanned the inside of the place.

Olive remained behind him, eagerly soaking up all the details.

The coffee table had been smashed. Couch cushions had been sliced. Bookcases were overturned.

Her throat tightened.

Whatever had happened here had been violent.

However, she didn’t see any blood.

But they’d only gotten to the first room.

“You should wait by the door,” Jason told her, his muscles bristled and rather strapping.

She forced herself to look away, to not admire his strength and protectiveness.

This was no time to find herself attracted to the man. Besides, he had a girlfriend.

Olive knew he was only trying to look out for her. But there was no way she wanted to stay by the door.

“I’d rather be close to you.” She made sure to sound scared rather than determined.

“Just stay close then and remain vigilant.” Jason’s voice was deep and soothing, yet authoritative.

As they stepped deeper into the house, Olive studied her surroundings.

There was no sign of Ryan, nor did she see any blood or gun casings.

The living room had been damaged but nothing else.

She and Jason finished searching the place. Jason shoved his gun back into his waistband, seemingly satisfied that they’d be safe a while.

His gaze was stormy as he turned toward her. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t like it.”

“This doesn’t look good, does it?” She glanced around at the bruised and battered living room again.

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