“Where are you going?” he demanded.
“I’ve got my cat at home. If he goes in—”
“My office is closer. I’m leaving now. Call the police and meet me there.”
He hung up before I could respond.
CHAPTER 25
In my driveway, a squad car was next to Robert’s sleek Mercedes. The knot of anxiety in my chest relaxed as Jacob’s car pulled up to the curb to let me out. He stared through the windshield at the two men who stood on my lawn. “That the lawyer?”
“Yeah.” I unbuckled my seat belt. “That’s him.”
“Handsome guy.”
It was the first time Jacob had ever commented on a man, and I swallowed my surprise. “Yes, he is.”
“You want me to come in?”
I reached over and squeezed his forearm. “You’ve done more than enough today. Go home, and I want you to take tomorrow off. I’ll email my appointments and cancel them. Meredith and Matthew can handle themselves for a day.”
“Nah,” he protested. “I’m okay.”
“No. Seriously. Take it off and enjoy a three-day weekend.” I opened my door and stared at him until he relented.
“Okay, okay.” He grinned. “Thanks, Doc.”
“Thanks for the ride.” I stepped out of the dented Toyota and closed the door. Checking the road for oncoming traffic, I crossed the street and climbed the small incline of my lawn.
“Hey.” I nodded to the cop and Robert. “I’m Gwen Moore, the homeowner.”
“Officer Kitt.” He offered his hand, and I shook it. “We did a perimeter sweep, but the doors are locked. No sign of anyone.”
“Thank you. I have a hidden key. If you don’t mind, I’d really appreciate it if you came inside with me and checked the house.”
“Of course.” The cop nodded, as did Robert. I met his concerned look and gave him a grateful smile, moving past them and up the drive to the side entrance.
Robert followed me closely. “Are you okay? You’re white as a sheet.”
“I’m fine. Just a crazy afternoon.” I paused by the side door. “Turn away.”
“What?”
“I don’t want you seeing where I hide my key. Turn away.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “It’s a pretty small porch. I could just figure it out.”
Under the weight of the stress, there was a crack—one that allowed a brief moment of levity. “I’m a master key hider. You would not figure it out.”
He held up his hands in surrender and turned, waiting as I pulled the key from the top of the porch light and unlocked the door. The cop, who had been on his radio in the carport, stepped forward, his hand resting on the butt of his gun. “Let me check the house first, Ms. Moore.”
“Sure.”
Clem streaked out the door and into the yard. I relaxed in relief as she skidded to a stop and examined a new tulip bud sprouting in the carport planter. “That’s my cat,” I said. “There shouldn’t be anyone else in the house.” The officer nodded and stepped inside.
An awkward silence fell, and I leaned against the pillar. “You didn’t have to come here.”
“It’s my fault he went after you.” He threaded the watch’s band through its clasp. “I feel responsible.”
I snorted. “Don’t. I have high-risk clients. Sometimes they’re triggered by obscure things.”
He took the opposite column and smoothed his hand down the front of his tie. “How did you end up with that specialty? It seems a bit . . .” He glanced at the house, searching for the right word. “Macabre.”
I watched as Clem stalked after a lizard. “People have always fascinated me. Their motivations. Decisions. I like figuring out how their brains work.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“Yes, it does.”
“You could figure out a normal person’s brain. Why focus on violent individuals?”
“Why defend criminals?”
He gave a humorless smile. “Gwen.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “It’s not a short answer.”
“I can respect that.” He met my eyes. “Why don’t you tell it to me over dinner?”
“Ahh . . .” I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t know. Given everything that we’re working on, maybe we should maintain a line of professional boundaries.”
“Maybe I want to jump over that line.”
I smiled. “Another night, maybe.”
The rejection bounced off him like rubber. “I won’t give up.”
“Spoken like every stalker I’ve ever treated.”
He winced. “Excellent point. Still, you have to eat. I could bring something over tonight. It’d be safer to have company, just in case this asshole shows up.”
There were so many red flags. The confident eye contact. The playful crook of his mouth. The paper-thin layer of control over his guilt. If he was going through a roster of women in an attempt to distract himself from his guilt, he could use someone else. I’d been there. Enjoyed that. While one night with Robert Kavin had been fun, a second might kick-start a risky game with my heart.
Then again, he was a handsome, intelligent man. A skilled and generous lover. Was I an idiot for not embracing this opportunity? Wasn’t he exactly what every woman in this city was looking for?
Plus, I had finished my first-draft psychological profile. All that was left were tweaks and polishes, as well as a few days to allow my final determinations to properly marinate in my mind. It would be good to talk through some of my sticky points with him and get his feedback.
“Why do I feel like you’re making a pros-and-cons list in your head?” he asked.
“Because I am.” I glanced at the open door to the kitchen, wondering how much longer the officer would be.
“I know the pros. What are the cons?”
“Ego, for one.” I gave him a knowing look, one he brushed off.
“What else?”
“I’m just not in the market for heartbreak. You may date around a lot, but I don’t.”
His attention shifted past me and to the street. I turned to see a dark sedan stop at the curb. Robert moved in front of me. “That wouldn’t be your patient, would it?”
“Not unless his Ferrari is in the shop.” I squinted at the car, my concern easing as I saw a tall Black man step out. “Oh, I know him.”
I skirted around Robert and met Detective Saxe halfway down the drive. “Everything okay?”
“You tell me, Dr. Moore. I heard your name and address over the radio. You kill off another client?” He gave me a mirthless smile.
“Funny,” I said flatly. “I just called the police as a precaution. Someone stole my wallet and keys.”
He rested his hands on his hips. “You going to change the locks?”
“Yeah. Locksmith is on his way.”
His gaze moved to Robert, who approached from behind me. “What are you doing here?”
Robert stuck his hand out. “Robert Kavin. I’m working with Dr. Moore on a case.”
The detective considered the hand, then dismissed it. “I know you, Mr. Kavin. You got Nelson Anderson off after he killed his wife.”