Hot Item (Hot Zone 3)

On the pillow where he’d slept was a handwritten note. “Went home to shower for an early-morning meeting. Car service will be downstairs at eight-thirty. Don’t make plans this weekend. You’re mine. R.”

Last night, she’d been so shaken up by the guy who’d harassed her, she hadn’t thought about anything beyond Riley and the security he represented. Now she realized she just might have given him the wrong message. Apparently he was back in her life.

How long would he stay this time? she wondered, and shivered.

She rose, showered and had a quick cup of coffee. She was grateful for the car waiting downstairs, which meant she didn’t have to stand in the street alone and hail a cab. She owed Riley a huge thanks for that and, she realized, so much more. He’d remained by her side all night, a complete gentleman in every way. She realized now what a great father he probably was. What a lucky girl Lizzie was to have him as her dad.

She was so preoccupied with her thoughts, she barely registered arriving at the office and stepping off the elevator. But as she did so, she stopped short. Uniformed police officers were swarming the hallway.

Her stomach clenched with fear. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“Are you Annabelle Jordan?” one of the men asked.

She shook her head. “I’m Sophie Jordan.”

He tipped his head. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. The alarm company already called Annabelle seeing as how she was first on their list. And of course they called us.”

In the back of her mind, Sophie noted that they’d never taken Annie off the top of the alarm company’s emergency list after she’d moved out of Manhattan. It would take her sister a while to drive into the city in an emergency.

“What happened?” she asked, barely able to take in the men measuring the break in the untempered glass.

One of the officers rose from a kneeling position and walked over. “We’re not one-hundred-percent certain, but it looks like someone broke in.” He gestured to what she hadn’t seen before. The hole in the glass was bigger than she’d realized.

“Could someone fit inside?” Sophie asked.

“Someone could, but not without great care and expertise or else they’d probably cut themselves. We’re dusting for prints and checking for bloodstains.”

Sophie gagged, a reflex she’d had since childhood. One that only showed up in situations that included bloodshed.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” The officer gestured to the window ledge. “We’ll let you know once you can go—”

“What in the dang hell is going on here?” Uncle Yank walked off the elevator, Spencer and Lola by his side, and Noodle in his arms. Not in front of him on a leash, the way a normal guide dog ought to be.

“We’ve had a break-in,” Sophie said, repeating the obvious.

Uncle Yank frowned. “I can see that.” He paused. “Well, I can’t exactly see everything but I can make out enough to know we got ourselves a problem.”

Noodle barked and wiggled to go free, probably sensing her owner’s distress.

Lola patted Noodle’s head in an effort to calm the pooch. Sophie thought she ought to be patting Uncle Yank’s head instead.

“Officer, what happened, exactly?” Spencer asked, stepping up to take charge. “I’m Spencer Atkins.”

The officer with the notepad nodded. “Your reputation in the sports world precedes you, Mr. Atkins. My nephew’s a fine baseball player. He’s hoping you’ll get him a contract like A-Rod or Jeter one day. He’d take you, too, Mr. Morgan.”

Sophie swallowed a laugh, relieved her uncle merely muttered beneath his breath instead of giving the man a hard time about how much better an agent he was than his partner.

Spencer grinned, his mind off the robbery at least for the moment. “How old is the boy?”

“Ten,” the cop said, laughing.

“You tell him if he practices, anything is possible.” Spencer turned, taking in the mess once more. “I can’t believe this happened. And it’s all my fault.”

The police officer tapped his pen against his pad. “Why do you say that?”

“Because he’s one of those guilty types, that’s why.” Uncle Yank patted his friend on the shoulder. “He’s got no good reason to say a thing like that.”

Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes steady on the officer’s. “If you already know who I am, then you must know about the recent scandal.”