Don't Look Back by Lynette Eason Page B

voice and she didn’t bother to hide it. Dakota reached under the table to grasp her fingers. The warmth of his hand soothed her ragged nerves and she gave him a squeeze.
    Connor spoke up, “We checked the alarm wires. Nothing was cut.”
    Dakota said, “And I had someone come out and change all the locks on your doors and windows.”
    “You did?”
    He looked at his watch. “Yeah. They should be done by now.” Fishing in his pocket, he pulled out two keys and handed them to her. “Here you go.”
    Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them back. “Oh, Dakota, thanks.”
    The waitress chose that moment to deliver the food, and for a few minutes silence reigned as they dug in. Jamie finally set her fork on the edge of her plate.
    “I appreciate you guys believing me.” She gave a little humorless laugh. “To be honest, I don’t know if I would have believed me.”
    Dakota rubbed her shoulder and she let him. “Until it’s proven different, we’re going to treat this as a stalker situation, all right?”
    “Thanks.”
    George spoke up again. “You know, it’s hard to come up with a profile of a stalker with so little information, but they generally have some kind of personality disorder, some kind of mental illness. A lot are delusional. Can you think of anyone who you may have come across that might fit that description?”
    “Just one,” she muttered.
    “Excuse me?” George looked confused.
    Jamie blew out a breath and stood. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I need to get back to work.”
    “Jamie . . .”
    “I’m sorry, guys. I know you’re just trying to help, but I’m . . .” She laid some money on the table and headed for the door.
    Back out under the hot sun, she paused and wondered if she’d be considered rude for walking out, but she felt so restless – and helpless. Like she had no say in the direction her life was taking. And that made her mad. She headed for her lab, wishing Samantha was available for a heart-to-heart sister chat.
    A lilting whistle alerted her and she turned to find Dakota walking behind her. She stopped and waited for him to catch up.
    “Jamie, would it help to have Maya sit in on any discussions we have of whoever’s after you?”
    She resumed her walk. “ If someone’s after me. And no, I’m just going to have to find a way to deal with it.”
    He grasped her hand. “Come on, let’s walk in the park.”
    Fear darted through her. “No. I don’t want to go to the park.”
    “Why not?”
    “It’s too hot for one thing and I’ve got to get back to work.” And I’m scared to go there. It’s not on my safe-places-to-go route. But she kept this information to herself.
    He watched her for a moment, then acquiesced. “All right. I’ll walk you on back.”
    They walked in silence for a minute or two, then Dakota said, “There was nothing on the security tapes.”
    “Of course not,” she muttered. “Because there was no one in my office, right?”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “You didn’t have to.”
    “Connor and George are still talking about the stalker thing.”
    “Connor’s got better things to do than sit around talking about me. He needs to be working on a case or something.”
    A faint smile edged Dakota’s well-shaped lips. “He is.”

    Back in the comfort of her lab, Dakota watched Jamie relax for the first time since they’d left for lunch. As she checked out her office for any more indications of an intruder, he watched her methodical movements. He had an idea. “Take the rest of the day off.”
    Startled brown eyes latched onto his. “Huh?”
    “You wanted me to teach you to shoot. Let’s go down to the firing range.”
    In the act of shrugging into her lab coat, she paused. “Really?”
    “Might as well.” He smiled. “Do you have anything better to do?”
    She looked over at the bones laid out on the table. “Actually . . .”
    “You might need this, Jamie.”
    She shuddered. He hated to add to her stress