Copy That. HelenKay Dimon

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Copy That - HelenKay  Dimon


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happening here and Jeremy had managed to jump right into the middle of it by accident.

      So much for the idea of a thirty-day recuperation period while hanging out with his brother by the beach.

      Jeremy slipped his cell out of his back pocket and hit a button for the preprogrammed number. He knew the person on the other end would have his identity and location in less than fifteen seconds, with or without the code word. He said it anyway. “Roman five.”

      The woman in front of him just stared. “What does that—”

      “Hill residence.” He held up a finger as he talked into the silence on the other end of the phone. Someone somewhere would be taping the distress call and he didn’t want her voice being overheard. “Need immediate assistance.” He hung up.

      She found her first smile; it was shaky but there. “Roman? I’m guessing that’s a password?”

      He shrugged. “Dramatic but I didn’t pick it.”

      “That was sort of a one-sided conversation.”

      “All it takes is one call.”

      “You have a special ‘in’ with law enforcement the rest of us aren’t privy to?”

      Clearly the woman had no idea what Garrett did for a living. “My brother has friends in the right places.”

      “I wouldn’t know. He’s not exactly the sharing type.”

      “True. Garrett can keep a secret forever if he needs to.” He took his oath seriously. They both did.

      Funny how Garrett had even forgotten to mention his pretty neighbor. But Jeremy sure noticed her. Straight shoulder-length blondish-brown hair and big brown eyes. The shirt hinted at a comfortable curviness that trumped the stick-figure California type every time in his book.

      He loved the softness of women. Their smell and inviting smiles. Mix that with a wariness of someone who had seen the rougher parts of life and you had his attention.

      And how she’d gone after the attacker, waiting for the right moment to strike, was pure magic.

      “May as well make this official.” He held out his hand. “Jeremy Hill. Younger brother by thirty-four minutes.”

      She slid her hand into his. “Meredith Samms. Kindergarten teacher and woman right on the edge of vomiting.”

      “Please don’t. I’d honestly rather you shoot me.” He’d take a firefight over dry heaving any day.

      “Believe it or not, I’m trying not to be sick.”

      Way he figured it, help was still two minutes away. He’d hoped to take her mind off the horror then get her down the steps and out without incident, but his time was up. They had to go.

      “You teach your students those kicking moves?”

      “I might now.” She inhaled and let her breath out nice and slow as she stared at a fixed point across the street. “I like to think I’m pretty smart, but I’m totally confused about what’s going on here.”

      “Understandable.”

      “My hands won’t stop shaking.” She turned her palms up.

      He slid his hands under hers and felt her nerves jump around. When he realized his did, too, and not from fear, he dropped his arms to his sides. “Adrenaline. It will pass.”

      “Will the urge to throw up?”

      He sure hoped so. “That takes a bit more practice.”

      He glanced through the window into the ransacked family room, seeing if there was anything he could salvage before they booked out of there. Guy still knocked out on the floor. Good. Nothing else looked much like it was worth keeping. Jeremy knew without a full house inspection the only thing that mattered, or had any value, stood in front of him with eyes the size of basketballs.

      “Anyone else in the house, to your knowledge?” he asked as he eased away from the door and down the stairs, taking her with him toward the sidewalk without even touching her.

      “No.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as she took turns peeking at the door and watching her step.

      “You haven’t seen Sara?”

      Meredith stopped moving. “Who’s Sara?”

      Well, that answered the question about the current state of Garrett’s love life. “That sounds like a ‘no’ on Sara.”

      The questions kept piling up. Jeremy planned to track down his brother the second they got out of there and start asking a few.

      “I thought Garrett was home, but I guess not,” Meredith said.

      “Just me, and I walked in on that guy. Watched him for about fifteen minutes to see what he was looking for.” Jeremy cleared his throat as he tried to block the guilt kicking his gut. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I had a problem by the back door and had to find a way around it.”

      “I’m fine.” Meredith shook her head, as if trying to block out his words. “Are the police on the way?”

      “I hope not.”

      She finally landed on the last step. “Excuse me?”

      “We don’t need them.”

      She backed away. The move wasn’t huge, more like inches, but she shifted into a clear path for a run down the front walk to the street. “Now I’m really confused.”

      Jeremy chose his words carefully. No need to spook her even more. With his luck today, she’d panic and accidentally jump in front of a car. “We need a certain level of expertise here.”

      “I don’t know what that means.” Her words came out slow and measured.

      Yeah, she was right on the edge of bolting. He could see it in every line of her body and in the tension stretching across her lips.

      “Remember how it took me a few extra minutes to get to you and how I told you we had to get out of the house as fast as possible?”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “Here’s the other thing I said was important.” He hesitated until her face paled. “It’s under control now, but—”

      “Jeremy, just tell me.”

      “The back door is rigged with explosives.”

      A NEW WAVE of panic crashed over Meredith. Her knees buckled and she would have gone right down except for the sudden touch of Jeremy’s hands under her elbows.

      “Whoa.” He ducked his head until his gaze met hers. “You okay?”

      “We have to get out of here.” She looked up and down the street, her movements frantic and out of control now, every cell in her body exploding into action. “Clear the neighborhood so no one gets hurt.”

      “It’s fine.”

      She dug her fingernails into the bare skin of his forearms. “How can you say that?”

      “The trigger is hooked to the door. Well, was. I detached it.”

      “So it’s safe.”

      “I’m not an explosives expert, but it can’t blow unless someone rigs it again.” He let go of her and grabbed keys out of his front jeans pocket. “You’re going to get in my car and drive away from here—”

      “But you said—”

      “Just as a precaution.” He held up his hands as if surrendering to her. “And I’m going to wait for the team to arrive.”

      She could barely hear him over the buzzing in her ears. “What team?”

      “Garrett’s people.” Jeremy put the keys in her palm and closed her fingers


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