“When we’re alone,” I insist, my resistance made easier as Savage nears and then joins us. “It wasn’t a dress,” Savage says, showing us the garment in his hand. “It was a red rain jacket that was left behind.”
“What the hell is going on, Savage?” Jax demands.
Aside from my throat closing up right now, there are obvious implications to that coat being left behind. It shows planning, even malice.
And it’s that malice that has me hugging myself against a chill that reaches straight to my bone. Whoever wore that coat, not only intended to freak me out, but they knew it was significant to Jax. That means that only a handful of people, all close to Jax, could be responsible.
“No one saw anything?” I query, praying for good news.
“We were looking for a red dress,” Savage says, eyeing Jax. “I’m back to what the hell is going on?”
“Obviously, someone knows the property well enough to move right under your noses and not be seen,” Jax says. “Is the power still out on one side of the castle”
“It is now,” Savage says. “It’s like that damn tower has ghosts, like Casper is here, strumming the wiring like it’s a damn guitar and fucking with us.”
“More like the woman in red,” I say. “She knew your blind spots.” I look at Jax. “She knows the house.”
Before he can answer, Savage is already talking. “The only true blind spots with Walker Security, are none. We aren’t bitch-ass men who are too busy thinking with the head in our pants to get our jobs done. We have cameras in excess and in places no one but us knows exist. Whoever wore this jacket came from somewhere, and we’ll catch them there.”
I rub the thin material of the jacket. “Unless the coat was under another coat,” I suggest. “This is could easily be folded up and slipped into a suit jacket or a purse.”
“We’ll know who went to that side of the building,” Savage says. “It’s not like we’re looking for a needle in a haystack. Guests aren’t standing in line to walk the dark castle paths.”
“Right,” I say. “Good point.”
“I do have those on occasion,” Savage says. “Never when alcohol is involved, which is why I don’t drink on the job.”
I don’t laugh. I’m too used to Savage’s sniping and too freaked out to be entertained. “Whoever this is knows the castle. They’d have to be smart enough to know how to avoid the cameras. What if they went through Jax’s tower?”
“That door is bolted from the inside,” Jax says, rejecting that idea. “So even if someone had the door code, they couldn’t get in. That didn’t happen.”
“Unless they unbolted it from the inside,” I argue.
“Nope,” Savage says. “That means getting past the security panel at the front door. That didn’t happen either. We’d know. And for the record, every question from this point forward is answered with ‘What the fuck is going on?’ until I know what the fuck is going on.”
“Why would the security systems work and not the rest of the power?” I challenge. “That makes no sense.”
“Aside from those battery-operated cameras I mentioned before tonight,” Savage replies, “the power outage isn’t related to the actual tower. It’s the east side of the castle. Another reason I know the tower door wasn’t breached. Now,” he pauses for effect, “what the fuck is going on?” He looks between us. “One of you? Both of you?”
I hug myself, rubbing my arms. “I need to talk to Jax. Alone. This is between me and Jax.”
Savage scowls. “What do I look like? Someone else’s chopped beef sandwich you don’t want? I’m here. I’m involved. I’m the one protecting you.”
“It’s between me and Jax,” I snap. “Until it’s not.”
His gaze shifts between us, and the fact that Jax is stiff and silent, must convince Savage that we’re fighting, because he says, “All right. All right. I get it. You two have a thing to deal with, but consider me the best couples counselor on planet Earth. Whatever the problem is between you two, get naked. Later. Get naked later because it solves everything except for me not knowing what the fuck is going on while trying to protect you both.”
“Someone left a note for Emma,” Jax says. “She tore it up and threw it in the water while the person in the red coat watched.” His hand settles at my waist. “The rest, Emma’s about to tell me. When we’re alone, at the beach house.”
“No,” I say, grabbing Jax’s arm and turning to face him. “We need to stay here and talk. Because we need to talk to her. Don’t you want to talk to her?”
His jaw clenches. “It’s not her.” His voice is low, taut.
“It’s the person who left me that note,” I say softly. “That’s what matters.”