Protecting The Billionaire (18 page)

“He said to pick four numbers. So I did. I never told him it was my birthday.”

Damn idiot.
“Pick four new numbers. Don’t use a relative’s birthday or part of your social security number. The best alarm codes and passwords are random.”

“Four random numbers, huh?” She nibbled on her thumbnail while she thought. “How about 0325.”

Rock repeated the number in his head. “Sounds like a date.”

“I know. You said it couldn’t be a birthday. It’s not. Besides, I have good memories of that date.”

Whatever.
If she wanted some random date for a code, he’d let it go. He punched in the new number, but something about it bothered him. “Why March 25th?”

A corner of her mouth twisted upward and she sighed. Rock rolled the date around in his head. He cringed when it came to him. “The hockey game.” How’d he forget that date?

She gave him a poke in the shoulder. “You almost found yourself on the couch tonight, Captain Raimono.”

“Nah, you’d never send me there. You’d miss this too much.” Rock pulled her against him and pressed a hard, hot kiss on her lips. She opened for him right away and her tongue slipped into his mouth, again showing him that her passion rivaled his.

Not now.
He couldn’t make love to her in a cold basement. If he kept kissing her like this, he’d forget why and lower her to the rough concrete floor then strip her naked. “Ally.” His voice echoed off the walls. “We still need to call the cops, and you wanted want a gun lesson. We gotta stop and get those things done.”

She paused, her lips pressed against his neck. Then she exhaled, her breath a warm whisper across his skin. “Right. I forgot. My phone’s upstairs. Do we need to go somewhere special for the gun lesson?”

She was stalling. No doubt about it. Allison could stall all she wanted. Nothing would change his mind about getting the cops involved now. Rock shifted back. Her body pressed against his made thinking difficult. “Today we’re goin’ to review gun safety and stuff so we can do it in the kitchen. If we have time Wednesday or Thursday, I’ll take you to the range for some actual shooting. Come on upstairs. You’ve got a call to make.”

***

Allison wished she knew more swear words. None of the ones in her vocabulary did justice to the current situation. A stalker. She had some crazy person following her around, breaking into her house, going through her things, and even taking the time to use her computer. She’d read about such things happening, but she had never dreamed it’d happen to her.

Before her talk with Connor this morning, she’d written off everything as mere coincidence. She’d kept telling herself her imagination had been overacting and Rock was being overprotective. When Connor confirmed the deadbolt on the back door had indeed been locked when they left for the office, she’d realized she could no longer deny all the evidence. While she may have forgotten to turn off a light or two, Connor would never forget to lock a deadbolt before they left. And now the police were about to get involved and make the situation even worse.

Out in the foyer, she heard Rock’s voice as he greeted the officers the department sent over. When the doorbell rang, he’d insisted he answer even though they were expecting officers. She’d never had a boyfriend so protective and concerned for her safety. Having him around so much was the only bright side to this whole terrible situation. Even before the day the bullet flew through his window and he protected her without a thought to his own welfare, she’d suspected she’d loved him. Everyday since then had only reinforced her belief. Best of all, she knew he cared about her. No one acted the way he did if they didn’t care deeply.

“She’s in here.” Rock’s voice grew louder as he led the police toward the living room where she waited.

Two men entered the room behind Rock and her immediate thought was talk about an odd couple. Both men appeared to be close in age and were dressed in a similar fashion, however that was the only thing they had in common. While both appeared fit, one of the officers had to be close to seven feet tall because he towered over Rock while the other gentleman wasn’t much taller than her. And while the shorter man didn’t have a single wrinkle on his face, he also didn’t have any hair in his head, unlike his partner who had short, dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard.

“Good afternoon, Miss Sherbrooke. I’m Detective Wilson and this is my partner Detective MacLean,” the taller of the two men said, extending his hand toward her.

“Nice to meet you. Please sit.”

Both men took seats opposite her on the sofa while Rock sat next to her and reached for her hand.

“Miss Sherbrooke, on the phone you said someone has been following you. How long have you suspected this?” Detective Wilson said, getting right down to business.

“Since the first week in February.”
Talk and get it over with
, Allison thought before telling him everything about the night of her car accident.

The detective asked her numerous questions about that night; then they asked what other events made her believe she had a stalker.

“Have you received any gifts or strange phone calls?” Detective MacLean asked, taking over the questioning.

“I guess you might call them strange. I’ve gotten some calls where no one talks, but I can hear them. And I did get one gift at work. A bear with candy was delivered. The card didn’t have a name on it.”

“Do you still have it? Or know where it came from.”

“Sorry, no. I threw it away, Detective. The card didn’t have a store name on it either and the receptionist at work didn’t remember anything about the delivery person when I asked.”

Across from her, Detective MacLean frowned and jotted something down on his notepad. “You mentioned someone has been in your house. Can you tell us more?”

A shiver skated down her spine and she shook. Rock squeezed her hand before he released it and put an arm over her shoulders, pulling her close. While the gesture didn’t change the situation, it did stop the trembling as the warmth from his body seeped into hers. More than anything, she wanted to snuggle closer and stay there forever. The two detectives in the room kept her from doing anything more than enjoying the sense of security Rock provided.

“When we came home yesterday, I noticed the deadbolt on the kitchen door was unlocked.” Allison filled the two men in on every thing from her conversation with Connor to the fact that she found her internet browser open when she went to use her computer. In response, they began with the same question as Rock, who else knew her alarm code. And just like Rock, they immediately mentioned her ex-boyfriend as the possible stalker.

“Detective MacLean, I’ve known Charles Perkins for a long time. We share mutual friends and I know he’s moved on. He’d never do something like this. It’s not him.”

Both detectives exchanged an unconvinced look with Rock.

“We can check for fingerprints, but there’s a good possibility you smudged any the intruder may have left. That’s assuming he didn’t use gloves.” Detective Wilson spoke up this time. “Have you already changed the alarm code?”

“Did it before we called ya,” Rock answered. So far he’d remained on the quiet side. The only time he’d spoken had been when she’d told the detectives about the shooting at his apartment.

“Under the circumstances and considering who your family is, you shouldn’t be living alone, Miss Sherbrooke. I recommend you either have your bodyguards here around the clock or stay with someone?”

“Detective Wilson, she’s not alone. I’m here.”

The detective’s expression didn’t change, but he nodded and added the information to his notes. “I suggest installing some surveillance cameras. I’m surprised the security company that installed your system didn’t recommend them considering your uncle is the President.”

“The system was here when I moved it. The company who verified it worked properly suggested I upgrade and add some cameras, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.” At the time, upgrading seemed low on her priority list, and adding cameras was just another thing to make her different from her neighbors. Already her family name and list of relatives did that enough.

“We’ll look into it tomorrow,” Rock answered before she said anything.

“Is there anything else we should know? Even what seems like an insignificant detail might be helpful,” Detective Wilson said.

“I’ve told you everything.”

Detective Wilson closed his notebook. “It’ll take a while to dust for fingerprints. Let me get the gear from the car, and we’ll get started. We’ll also need to search the entire house. It’s not unheard of for a stalker to hide in an attic or a crawl space.”

Even Rock’s warmth couldn’t prevent the tremor that went through her body when he mentioned the possibility her stalker had been living in the house all this time.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Rock whispered in her ear.

Oh, how she wished she shared his confidence right now. “Please do whatever you need, Detective Wilson. And if you need something, just ask.”

“We appreciate it, Miss Sherbrooke,” he said before he looked in his partner’s direction. “Be right back, Liam.”

***

He didn’t lie. It took forever.
Allison watched Rock close and lock the door behind the two detectives. When they’d arrived, the sun had remained on the horizon. Now a full moon hung in the sky.

“Still want a lesson or do ya want to wait?”

What she wanted was to wake up from this terrible dream, but since that wasn’t an option, she nodded. “The sooner the better.”

Rock cupped her face and looked her in the eye. “Nothing is going to happen to ya. I won’t let it. Don’t forget that,” he demanded in a voice that left no room for argument. “Come on, let’s go in the kitchen.”

I love you.
More than anything she wanted to say the words. He deserved to know how she felt about him. If she told him now though, would he believe her or would he think she only thought she loved him because of everything going on. They hadn’t known each other long. He might not believe two people could fall in love so quickly.
Wait for a better time. Tell him when there is not some crazy person breaking into the house and following you around.

She watched him pull the pistol from his holster and place it on the table. She didn’t have anything against weapons. They served a purpose. She’d just never had any need or desire for one. The events of the past few months made her reconsider that. Still she couldn’t believe she stood in her kitchen about to have her first gun lesson.

“First rule and, according to my dad, the most important one: always treat any gun you come across as loaded. Second rule: don’t touch the trigger unless you intend to shoot. Third rule: never point at something you don’t want to shoot.”

Allison nodded in agreement. He hadn’t asked a question, but it seemed like the thing to do.

“There are a lot of different models, but the basics are the same.” He picked up the dull black pistol again. “Unless it’s a revolver, bullets are held in a magazine. The number of bullets in a magazine will vary depending on the size of the gun and the bullet.” Rock pointed to a tiny little button not far from the trigger. “This is the magazine release. It lets you take the magazine out. Every gun has one, but they’re not all in the same place.” He handed her the magazine.

The weight of it and the knowledge of what it contained sent a shiver up her arm.

“This one holds seventeen rounds. Then you got the one in the chamber.” He racked back the slide and another bullet dropped onto the table. “Don’t assume a weapon is safe just because it doesn’t have a magazine. As long as there is one in the chamber, it can fire.” Next he pointed to the black square bumps on the top of the gun. “These are your sights. You use them to line up your shot.”

One by one, he explained each part of the weapon. By the time he finished, several components were on the table and she hoped he didn’t ask her to put it back together. While she listened and watched everything he did, she’d never get the thing in working order again. Perhaps after he demonstrated another four or five times, but not tonight.

“Questions?” Rock picked up what he’d called the frame and started reassembling the pistol.

Yep, she had some of those. One certain one bugged her the most. “How do you turn off the safety?” In books, it always said the character switched off the safety before firing. She’d paid attention. He’d never mentioned or pointed to a safety.

“This one doesn’t have a safety you turn off.” He made quotation marks with his fingers when he said turn off. “It’s got a passive safety system. Pressing the trigger deactivates all of the safeties. As long as you don’t press the trigger, the gun can’t go off even if you drop it out of a helicopter. But some weapons have manual safeties you need to turn off before you shoot. I’ll show you some different models later.”

“Which is better?”

Rock finished reassembling the gun but didn’t slide the loaded magazine back into it. “It comes down to personal preference. I don’t like the manual safeties. In a fire fight, it’s just one more thing to think about.”

“But doesn’t that makes it less safe?”

“Not if you remember the rules. But like I said, it’s personal preference.” He held out the unloaded weapon. “The grip on this is going to be too big. Addie shoots something smaller and your hands look about the same size as hers.”

“Addie shoots?” Her sister-in-law had never mentioned she knew anything about guns, but then why would she?

“Hell yeah and probably better than either of those two detectives who were here. My dad taught us all how. Even my mom. He wanted us safe around weapons.”

She wondered what other unique skills her sister-in-law had. Allison accepted the gun and wrapped her hands around the grip. “I thought it would be heavier.”

“This one’s made mostly of plastic, so it’s light. If it had a magazine in it, you’d notice a difference in weight.”

She thought they only made toy guns out of plastic. Obviously, she had more to learn than she thought.

“Forget what you’ve seen in movies. It’s best to keep two hands on the gun. Yeah, sometimes you can’t and you need to compensate, but I want you to always keep both hands on the grip. And keep your finger off the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.” He repositioned her hands the way he wanted them. “We’ll go over this more when we get to a range, but let’s talk about firing stance. There are three basic ones.”