Page 91 of Help Wanted

“So they will fuss over me? No, thank you. I’ll tell them later.”

“Okay. If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“Have I told you how amazing you are?”

“A few times.”

“Yeah, but before I was mostly saying it to get myself out of trouble. I really mean it now.” He winked and pulled her in for a kiss.

* * *

Her apartment felt different as she stepped inside and parked her suitcase by the door to her bedroom. She then spent a good ten minutes checking the closets and under the bed for intruders before she went to unpack.

Zane called to check in three times. She hadn’t used the word fine so much since her mother died.

It would be difficult to convince anyone she was fine when she jumped a foot into the air at the sound of her own doorbell.

Scott Porter waited on the porch in his uniform.

“Hi there,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t ask her out again. At least this time she had an excuse. She had a boyfriend.

“Zane asked me to stop by to check on you.”

“Wow. He must really be worried if he called you.”

“He is.” He looked past her into her apartment. “Did you want me to do a sweep while I’m here? Just to be sure?”

“Actually, I just did it.”

“Okay.” He turned and she felt her chest freeze.

“But since you’re a professional, maybe you could look too. Just to be sure.” She had checked out the place thoroughly, but a sweep sounded more official.

“Can do. It won’t take but a second.” He looked in all the places she’d looked. But there was something about the gun hanging on his belt that made her feel more secure.

“All clear.”

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem. I’ll keep an eye on your place when I’m doing my patrol. You don’t have anything to worry about. The guy is still in the hospital and hasn’t made bail, so he’ll be in jail as soon as he can walk. You’re safe.”

“I know. It’s silly. It’s not like he could find me here. I’m just kind of nervous.”

“I’m not surprised. You’ll probably be rattled for a while.”

“I’m fine.” That word was getting old.

She texted Zane to thank him for sending Scott over.

She didn’t hear back, but he would have been in the air, so it wasn’t surprising not to get a response. Several hours later he finally called back.

“Hello.”

“Why aren’t you asleep? It’s after eleven.”

“It’s also a Saturday night and I’m only twenty-eight. If I go to bed before midnight on a Saturday, I’ll wake up an old person. That’s how it works.”