Page 100 of The Bodyguard

The kiss left her smiling. “I know.”

“There’s no reason to be worried.”

“First, that’s not true.” Her chin rose. “And second, I can be nervous and still want to keep going.”

“I know.” After all, this was the same woman who slapped her would-be assassin. But Sawyer also knew that Angela’s bravado was a crutch.

She pushed onto her tiptoes and smacked his lips with hers. “I can’t wait anymore. Let’s go.”

He kissed her one more time because what the hell, why not? “Whatever you say.”

They walked to the house next door to Mylene’s, and Sawyer led them up the driveway. Her hand tightened on his.

“I’m just getting a better look,” he explained.

They skirted behind the neighbor’s house and saw Mylene’s window shades were drawn. Carpenter bee holes pocked the fascia board along her roofline. The siding needed a good power washing several years ago. But he didn’t see security cameras or telltale signs of booby traps, trip wires, or incendiary devices. He also noted that nothing on the exterior would keep a person inside who didn’t want to stay.

“Do you think she’s in there?” Angela asked.

“Not sure. Hang tight a second.” Sawyer parked her next to a sun-bleached swing set that hadn’t seen kids in at least a decade. He handed her the keys to the rental car. “If I’m not back in five minutes, get back to the car, and call Parker.”

It didn’t take Sawyer long to walk the perimeter of Mylene’s backyard and get a closer look at the house. He tossed a couple of rocks at the windows. No alarms, and no one came outside.

He returned to Angela. “I don’t see anything that worries me.”

“So we’re going to knock on the door?”

That still seemed like the best plan. His eyebrows lifted. “You game?”

“Of course I’m game.” Her gaze danced over his shoulder. “If she saw you snooping in her yard…”

“Then we’ll find out.”

They returned to the sidewalk and proceeded onto Mylene’s front stoop. Angela raised her hand to knock but froze.

Sawyer touched the small of her back. “Whatever we find out, we’ll deal with.”

She nodded then rapped on the door.

No one answered.

“That’s a bit anticlimactic,” Angela muttered.

“My turn.” Sawyer banged hard enough on the old wood door that it threatened to fall down. “Keys.” She handed him the rental car keys. Sawyer lodged them into the door jamb and opened the front door easily. “Probably could’ve elbowed our way in.”

Cautiously, he called, “Hello?”

No one answered. Angela stepped into the house behind him and shut the door. The house smelled too clean.

“Do you smell bleach?” she asked.

“Yup.” His Spidey senses screamed they had a problem. “Stay close.” He eased farther into the small entryway. “Hello?” he called, knowing no one was home. “Mylene Hathaway?”

“Holy shit.”

Sawyer turned and saw what Angela had seen. She grasped his hand as they walked into the center of the living room. “Jesus Christ.”

Slowly, they pivoted, taking in the walls. From floor to ceiling, framed pictures of Mylene’s husband and sister covered every inch of space. There were family photos and crime scene photos as well as framed newspaper headlines and articles.

---