Close To The Edge. Zara Cox
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Park. She started to fidget when we turned into the tree-lined road that housed a row of impressive mansions.
“Will your guys still be there?”
I checked the time on the dashboard. “No. Maggie texted me when they left. They’ll come back tomorrow to take care of the security inside the house.”
Surprise widened her eyes. “Oh. Thanks.”
I glanced over to see her worrying the inside of her lip again. “You’re welcome. Wanna tell me why having them inside the house makes you so nervous?”
She averted her gaze. “I’m not comfortable with strangers invading my space,” she muttered.
I sensed she wasn’t being entirely truthful but let the matter drop. “Okay.”
She looked relieved as I checked out our surroundings.
Half of the properties were displayed in all their sprawling glory, but the other half were hidden behind palm and fir trees. Many places for a stalker to hide.
Lily pulled out her phone and hit a button on the screen, nodding at the property coming into view. “It opens the gates.”
The electronic gates were swinging open much too slowly. “They need to open faster. You don’t want to be a sitting duck out here while the gate takes its sweet time to let you in. I’ll get it fixed.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
When the gap widened, I drove through. Compared to the other houses on the street, hers was on a smaller scale but still impressive enough to blend comfortably into the neighborhood.
Built on two levels with a tapered roof, the tiered white European-style mansion took up several thousand square feet, with tall rectangular paned windows that drew an inward grimace. All her stalker needed was a decent set of binoculars and he could follow her every move when she was home. And that second floor tier was also a problem especially if my suspicion that one or all of the bedrooms came with a terrace overlooking the backyard was confirmed.
The front door looked solid enough, though. I couldn’t do anything about the Roman pillars framing the front porch, but the seven-foot potted plants on either side of the door needed to be relocated.
She opened her door and jumped out. I stopped myself from growling my annoyance and got out, reaching her just as she climbed the last step onto the stone-laid porch.
I touched her upper arm. “Wait.”
Apprehension flickered across her face. “Your security people were just here. Surely you—?”
“Can’t be too careful. Keys?”
She dug through her satchel and handed the keys over. I unlocked the door and saw a large foyer.
“There’s a light switch on your left,” she said.
I flicked it on, bathing the large space in a warm golden glow. An alarm beeped from a panel next to the switch. I entered the code.
Silence settled in as I took in the layout of the first floor. Two short corridors forked from the entrance foyer on either side of a grand staircase made of wood and trellised iron. At the end of the left hallway, I saw shadowy frames of sofas and a coffee table, which meant the right hallway probably led to the kitchen.
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