Boone’s first instinct was to go over to her. She still looked incredibly scared, and her palm was smeared with the sticky red goop. He’d seen the back of her robe, which looked ruined. Just like everything else in her life. But the way he could help the most was to catch this sick freak. So he got to work.
The first camera he looked for was the one he’d placed in a hinge on the door. He didn’t touch it, or even look at it, in case there were other cameras, but his meter showed him it was there and functioning. He’d look at the tape later, after Christie was asleep. The camera would have caught any activity in the room, and with luck, would identify the geek. He could then get a still, and use his buddy at the FBI to run facial-recognition software. It would be a simple matter of tracking the stalker down once they knew who he was. Boone couldn’t wait to get his hands on him. He wouldn’t be stalking anyone else. Not in this lifetime.
As he went inch by inch over every surface, he thought about the significance of the blood spatter. For one thing, the geek had managed to get into the house. Boone had checked every lock, and they were damn good. He’d even jimmied a couple of them to make them stronger, but that hadn’t stopped him. The fake blood was a message, but what kind? That the geek had access to her bedroom. That he wanted her dead. Or that he wanted her even more vulnerable, more frightened, now that she had someone in her corner.
He’d gone to a lot of trouble to make that quantity of goo. And he’d had to transport it here, get it inside, spread it around, all without having any idea when Christie would return home. At least, theoretically.
He couldn’t have tailed them and done this at the same time. He could have an accomplice, although Boone had never heard of any stalkers who didn’t work alone. Killers, yes, but not stalkers.
What mattered was that the geek had made it into the house. That was bad. He’d scared Christie just when she was starting to get a little confidence back. That was also bad. The question now was how to make the geek do it again, only on Boone’s terms.
Christie was another problem. Could he get her out, without the geek knowing? The chances of that were minimal. So they’d fight it out here, if they couldn’t ID the prick. But Boone was no fool. This was a lot more complex than he’d first imagined, and he wasn’t above getting help. He’d call Seth tonight, get him to take a look around.
Boone stopped. The red light was beeping, and the gadget was pointed at the edge of her blinds. He reached up and found the tiny camera, debated holding it for Seth, but decided it was too risky. He put it under his boot heel and squished it into mush.
Of course the geek knew that Boone wasn’t Joe Ordinary by now. He’d known that when the first bug was smashed. It hadn’t scared him off. It had spurred him on.
The geek had to be a spook. CIA, most likely, with cash to spend and incredible access, who was focusing all his energy on one woman. Why? Why her? What did he want? Was sexual obsession the whole story?
He finished the room fifteen minutes later, still with no strong theories as to how to obtain his objective. All he knew for sure was that he’d need help, and that he couldn’t leave Christie alone.
He put away his scanner, and went to the corner, where Milo was taking care of Christie. Boone crouched down so he was eye level with her. “It’s all clear in here now. You’re okay. What do you say we get you into a bath.”
She looked at Milo, rubbed him behind the ears. “I don’t need a bath.”
“Yeah, you do. You might need to move tomorrow. Without wincing.”
She continued to pet Milo, staring at his big, brown eyes.
Boone was gonna have to shift position soon, as his leg was gonna cramp, but he didn’t want to push. Tonight had given her one hell of a shock, on top of a whole lot of other shocks.
She leaned toward him slightly without lifting her gaze. “What if he can see me?”
“There are no cameras in the bathroom. I checked.”
“You checked the locks. You checked the windows.”
He was the one wincing, and not from his leg. “I know. I’m sorry. I underestimated him. I won’t do that again.”
Finally, she looked at him. “Will you come with me?”
“Oh, yeah. We’ll get the bath ready together. And then I’ll stand right outside the door. No one, nothing, is going to get through me, you got that?”
She sniffed, leaned over and kissed Milo on the top of the head, then she stood. It wasn’t the smoothest of moves. He knew her legs, her back, her whole body had to be hurting.
He stood, his knee popping loudly, and followed her into the bathroom. It was like something out of a magazine. Not that he hadn’t seen fancy baths before, but this wasn’t just for show. Everything in the room was designed to pamper. The multiple showerheads, the Whirlpool tub complete with neck pillow and a wide variety of bath salts and oils. She had candles, a boom box, a dimmer switch. The towels were thick and huge, with a matching rug.