Page 17 of Nick
She lifted her glass, taking a long sip before she turned and glided back into her apartment. Nick lowered the camera again, placing it carefully on the dashboard, and flipped open the lid of the laptop on the seat beside him. Instantly multiple frames appeared on the screen, dividing the display into four equal quadrants. Each displayed a different view of the few rooms within the apartment.
Gracie walked across the tiny living room and disappeared from the screen for mere seconds, before reappearing in the bedroom. Earlier, he’d snuck into her place and planted the surveillance equipment, positioning the bedroom’s camera high up in the corner, right above the curtain rod. It gave a clear view of most of the suite, including the queen-sized bed dominating almost the entire west wall.
Shaking his head, he tried to dislodge the picture of Gracie lying on those silken sheets, all that lush long hair spread across the pillows.
Focus, you idiot. Get your head in the game and do the job.
Gracie placed the glass of wine on the dresser and reached up, removing the pins holding up her hair. It spilled across her shoulders and halfway down her back, and she ran her fingers through it, eyes drifting closed. She rolled her shoulders and rubbed at the nape of her neck before reaching for the zipper of her dress.
Its slow slide continued downward in silence, and Nick swallowed a groan when she shrugged her shoulders and did a little hip shimmy.
Have mercy.
She kicked off the shoes and bent over, picking up the dress and heels, and strode to the walk-in closet, disappearing from view. As much as he’d wanted to put a camera in there, too, he’d been afraid if he planted too many, somebody might spot one of them, and he’d blow his surveillance. Better safe than sorry.
Emerging wearing a silky black robe that hit midthigh and belted at the waist, she walked over, picked up her glass and took another sip. Nick shifted on the car’s seat, trying to find a comfortable position, and couldn’t help wondering when Brewster or one of his goons would show.
According to Alvarez and Rafe, Brewster was obsessed with Gracie, to the point he swore he’d find her once he got out of prison. And with the specter of his parole looming over her head, Nick had made the decision that best way to keep her safe was to keep her surveilled. Yeah, he probably should have discussed his plan with Rafe, but better to ask forgiveness than permission as the old saying goes. He’d take the heat if it meant keeping an innocent woman safe.
It wasn’t like he had anything better to do at the moment anyway. He was at a standstill in the hunt for whoever had taken a shot at him and hit Antonio. Calvin had feelers out all over, and he’d come up empty, but their last call had left Nick wondering if his mentor, his friend, was hiding something from him. The thing was, he couldn’t figure out why the man he’d trusted since he’d been a scared, snot-nosed kid barely old enough to know what really trusting somebody meant, would suddenly keep him out of the loop. Especially since it was his life that was being targeted.
A shadow of movement caught his attention, dragging his focus from the laptop’s screen. He lowered the lid, not wanting the light from the screen betraying his position. Maybe it was simply a tenant heading toward their apartment, and Nick was being a paranoid idiot. Lots of people lived in Gracie’s apartment complex. Could be somebody heading home after work, ready to stick a frozen dinner in the microwave, like he’d done a hundred times before. But something about the way the shadowed figure moved had the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention, and he fought the urge to sit up straighter in his seat.
The male figure stayed within the shadows, moving with the kind of stealth an ordinary resident wouldn’t employ. Glancing upward, he watched Gracie’s shadow cross in front of the large window, and his heartbeat slowed, his whole body going into hunter mode, one he was intimately familiar with. All his training, the years he’d spent tracking criminals kicked in, and he knew he had to protect Gracie. While she might not be innocent, he knew she’d lived a squeaky clean life since moving to Shiloh Springs, and he wasn’t about to let Jeremy Brewster or anybody else hurt her.
Fortunately, he’d removed the lightbulb from the overhead interior light in the old sedan, so darkness covered the movement of him opening the car door and sliding silently from his seat. He watched as the man took the stairs two at a time, giving up any pretense of hiding, which made it easy for Nick to see the gun held in his right hand. Reaching into his pocket, he slid his cell phone free, and quickly hit the speed dial for Rafe.
“We’ve got a problem,” he whispered when Rafe answered, not giving him a chance to speak. “There’s somebody lurking around Gracie’s place, and he just headed up the stairs with a gun.”
“Son of a—”
“Yeah, well, I think we might need to talk with him, so get yourself over here ASAP. We’ll be waiting.”
Nick cut off the call before letting Rafe say anything, slipping the phone back in his pocket and heading for the stairs, eyes glued to the man as he moved toward Gracie’s door. He didn’t hesitate, obviously knowing which apartment she lived in. Nick couldn’t help wondering how that information had gotten out to whoever this person was, because Gracie had been adamant nobody knew where she lived outside of the people she knew in Shiloh Springs.
Nick didn’t bother pulling his own gun. Too close to civilians in an apartment complex, and definitely too close to Gracie’s home. Unless the creeper had extensive military-style training, he figured it wouldn’t be that hard to disarm and subdue him until reinforcements arrived.
Moving with cat-like swiftness up the stairs, he kept his gaze laser locked on the stranger, watched him stop to stare into Gracie’s apartment window. He’d have to talk to her about those sheer curtains, because anybody could see straight into her place, which made her an excellent target. And with it looking like this Brewster guy was pulling strings from prison, she needed to take extra precautions.
Luckily, her stalker-burglar was too intently focused on Gracie to notice Nick moving closer. As he reached for the doorknob, Nick slid an arm around his neck, pressing hard against his throat, and wrestled the gun away with the other hand, heard it hit the concrete with a dull thud. He struggled, grabbing at Nick’s arm with both hands, scrambling to break free, but Nick held on, applying more pressure until the man raised both hands in surrender.
Nick wasn’t stupid. Nor was he about to turn the man loose to let him make a break for freedom. Instead, he used his foot to kick against Gracie’s door, maintaining his hold on the other man.
Gracie’s door flew open and he heard her startled gasp.
“Nick!”
“Hey, Gracie. Found this guy,” he frogmarched the man across the threshold and into her apartment, “peeking in your window. Rafe’s on his way.”
“No,” a voice answered from the open doorway. “Rafe’s here. Luckily, I wasn’t far away when you called.”
“Antonio’s here too, if anybody cares.” Antonio stood slightly behind his brother, his lips quirked up in a smile. “Looks like you’ve caught a live one.”
Nick’s predatory grin was his response.
“Gracie, hon, can you grab me a couple of paper towels and a paper or plastic bag?” Antonio waited in the doorway while Rafe strode across to stand next to Nick, who still had an arm wrapped around the burglar’s neck. Loosening his grip, he shoved the guy across the space and into the kitchen. Antonio nodded when Gracie handed over the requested items and stepped back outside.
“Does somebody want to tell me what’s going on? Who’s this guy?” Gracie pointed toward the stranger now seated in one of her kitchen chairs, glaring daggers at Nick. Nick loomed over him, refusing to get more than a step away. His fingers itched to go back around the guy’s throat when he thought about what might have happened to Gracie if he hadn’t spotted the man.
