“As I mentioned, this is just for show,” she said, sweeping a hand past the ADT pad that was mounted on the wall. “The real unit is in the back of my bedroom closet. Each window and every door has the ADT receivers, but the real system is secured by radio waves and infrared beams and copper plates. Just like yours.”

“Show me the connectors. And I want to see the motherboard. Please.”

Which would mean taking him upstairs.

As she glanced over at the carpeted steps, she found it hard to believe that she was wondering whether she could be trusted with him. . . .

That close to a bed.

What the hell was happening to her?

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 15

As Isaac was led into a cozy library-type room, he knew this was where Grier spent her downtime. There were sections of the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal in a wicker basket next to a stuffed chair, and the wide-screen TV on the far wall no doubt had CNBC or CNN or FOX News on it most nights.

Who sat here and watched with her? That brother of hers?

“See?” she said, pulling one of the Black Watch tartan drapes aside.

Isaac went over and leaned in—and the whiff of her perfume was precisely the kind of thing he didn’t need right now.

Forcing himself to focus on the tiny flashes of copper, he approved of what he was eyeing. Very current stuff.

Who the hell was her father?

Before he did something stupid, like touch her, he moved away, and as he wandered by the TV, he was entirely unsurprised by the collection of DVDs tucked into the shelves. Lot of foreign titles and serious movies he’d never heard of, much less seen. Then again, he hadn’t been to the cinema since the late eighties.

Last thing he knew, Bruce Willis was a cop desperately looking for a pair of shoes that fit, Arnold was a cyborg with sunglasses, and Steven Seagal had a real hairline.

“Will you take me to the motherboard,” he said, turning around to her.

The and into your bed part he left off. What a gentleman.

“Of course.”

Following her up the stairs, he gave her a wide berth—which was good in that he kept his hands to himself, and not so hot because his eyes had plenty to look at. Jesus, her hips had a way of making him grind his molars.

When they passed the second floor, he took a quick pause and snagged an impression of three bedrooms with open doors. The decorations were done in the same old-money routine as downstairs, but there was a cozy vibe to it all. Much more “family” than “hotel.”