color were your assailant’s eyes?”
“It was dark, but I think they were a light color, like gray or pale blue.”
“Right. A professional would have worn night goggles, which would have, one, given him better vision; two, protected his identity; and three, prevented the mace from blinding him.”
“So, you think whoever broke in isn’t used to doing things like that?”
“I’d say so, yes.”
“Just because he forgot his goggles?”
“There’s more.”
“Tell me.”
“Well, he broke into the house like an amateur.”
“What does that mean?”
“He broke a window instead of picking the lock.”
“What window? Wouldn’t I have heard something?”
“Probably not. He broke the window on the door from the garage to the backyard. It was a simple matter of reaching in and unlocking the dead bolt with the key dangling from the nail beside the door.”
She felt herself blushing. “I didn’t want to lose it.”
“And you didn’t really believe you were in danger.”
“Well, no, I didn’t. I’ve been attacked and almost smothered to death, and I’m still having trouble wrapping my mind around that little bit of reality.”
“There was no sign of forced entry to the door from the garage to the kitchen.”
She bit her lip, feeling foolish. “Josette and I never locked that door.”
“If I’d known that, I would have insisted on replacing the door to the outside with a solid steel one. I wanted to anyway, but Wolf and I ran out of time.”
“I’m sorry. I feel so stupid. I might as well have put a sign in my window inviting him in.”
Hotwire shook his head. “Don’t apologize. A determined criminal will find a way in. You did not invite anything. Do you hear me?”
She swallowed at the vehemence in his voice. “Yes, I hear you. I’m not the bad guy, just an idiotic house renter.”
“You are in no way an idiot. Your only crime, if it is one, is that you were too trusting in the safety of your surroundings.”
No doubt. She’d learned early in life to assess her level of personal safety. Josette’s house had always been at the top of the charts, so incredibly different from the places she’d lived in after her dad died. “I’m also not hot on revenge, so I find it difficult to imagine anyone wanting vengeance against Josette enough to try to kill me thinking I was her.”
“We can’t be sure the assailant was after Josie.”
“But it’s the only thing that makes sense,” she reiterated.
“Nevertheless, when investigating a crime, it’s good to remember that just because a chicken has wings, doesn’t mean it can fly.”
“In other not-so-colorful words, appearances can be deceptive.”
“Yes.”
“Um…Hotwire, you’re a former mercenary, turned security specialist. How do you know so much about investigating a crime?”
Chapter 5
H e relaxed in the chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “It’s a hobby of mine. I’ve done some freelance work for the government between missions.”
“But how…”
“I trained in covert ops in the Rangers. I learned how to be a spy—duty first, people second, and the mission supreme.” His words were bitter, and she wondered at the story behind them.
But right now it was hard enough to keep her mind focused on the problem at hand, much less try to figure out his complex mind. She was growing tired again, though not as sleepy as before, and the pain in her head was overwhelming.
“Back to your assailant.”
“What about him?”
“You said that he stayed, holding the pillow over your face, despite the fact that the alarm was going off.”
“Yes. He was counting.”
“He was tracking the time on the alarm and your time without air. The mark of a professional.”
“But I thought you said he was an amateur?”
“I’m having trouble classifying him, to tell the truth.”
“Why does it matter if the person who came after me was ‘in the business’ or not?” she asked, using a phrase
“It was dark, but I think they were a light color, like gray or pale blue.”
“Right. A professional would have worn night goggles, which would have, one, given him better vision; two, protected his identity; and three, prevented the mace from blinding him.”
“So, you think whoever broke in isn’t used to doing things like that?”
“I’d say so, yes.”
“Just because he forgot his goggles?”
“There’s more.”
“Tell me.”
“Well, he broke into the house like an amateur.”
“What does that mean?”
“He broke a window instead of picking the lock.”
“What window? Wouldn’t I have heard something?”
“Probably not. He broke the window on the door from the garage to the backyard. It was a simple matter of reaching in and unlocking the dead bolt with the key dangling from the nail beside the door.”
She felt herself blushing. “I didn’t want to lose it.”
“And you didn’t really believe you were in danger.”
“Well, no, I didn’t. I’ve been attacked and almost smothered to death, and I’m still having trouble wrapping my mind around that little bit of reality.”
“There was no sign of forced entry to the door from the garage to the kitchen.”
She bit her lip, feeling foolish. “Josette and I never locked that door.”
“If I’d known that, I would have insisted on replacing the door to the outside with a solid steel one. I wanted to anyway, but Wolf and I ran out of time.”
“I’m sorry. I feel so stupid. I might as well have put a sign in my window inviting him in.”
Hotwire shook his head. “Don’t apologize. A determined criminal will find a way in. You did not invite anything. Do you hear me?”
She swallowed at the vehemence in his voice. “Yes, I hear you. I’m not the bad guy, just an idiotic house renter.”
“You are in no way an idiot. Your only crime, if it is one, is that you were too trusting in the safety of your surroundings.”
No doubt. She’d learned early in life to assess her level of personal safety. Josette’s house had always been at the top of the charts, so incredibly different from the places she’d lived in after her dad died. “I’m also not hot on revenge, so I find it difficult to imagine anyone wanting vengeance against Josette enough to try to kill me thinking I was her.”
“We can’t be sure the assailant was after Josie.”
“But it’s the only thing that makes sense,” she reiterated.
“Nevertheless, when investigating a crime, it’s good to remember that just because a chicken has wings, doesn’t mean it can fly.”
“In other not-so-colorful words, appearances can be deceptive.”
“Yes.”
“Um…Hotwire, you’re a former mercenary, turned security specialist. How do you know so much about investigating a crime?”
Chapter 5
H e relaxed in the chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “It’s a hobby of mine. I’ve done some freelance work for the government between missions.”
“But how…”
“I trained in covert ops in the Rangers. I learned how to be a spy—duty first, people second, and the mission supreme.” His words were bitter, and she wondered at the story behind them.
But right now it was hard enough to keep her mind focused on the problem at hand, much less try to figure out his complex mind. She was growing tired again, though not as sleepy as before, and the pain in her head was overwhelming.
“Back to your assailant.”
“What about him?”
“You said that he stayed, holding the pillow over your face, despite the fact that the alarm was going off.”
“Yes. He was counting.”
“He was tracking the time on the alarm and your time without air. The mark of a professional.”
“But I thought you said he was an amateur?”
“I’m having trouble classifying him, to tell the truth.”
“Why does it matter if the person who came after me was ‘in the business’ or not?” she asked, using a phrase
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