She handed back the card. “Not a good photo, Mr. Stern.”
“They never are. And please, call me Gabriel. I prefer less formality.”
She raised an eyebrow. He’d have to be the first SIU officer in history to ever say that. Most were sticklers for regulations, and regulations said no first names. She’d never understood why. She doubted if anyone else did, either.
“So why didn’t you back up my story about Jack and that creature? You were chasing the thing, for Christ’s sake.”
His eyes gained an intensity she suddenly found unnerving. Her breath caught in her throat and, for an instant, it felt as if she could simply reach out and touch his thoughts, his soul.
And, for some reason, she found that a more terrifying thought than anything else that had happened in the last twenty-four hours.
“I have my reasons,” he said after a moment, and looked down at her feet.
She suddenly found herself able to breathe again. Damn, maybe she did need more psych tests.
“These are some pretty bad burns,” he commented into the silence.
The men from the SIU were observant, no doubt about it. “No kidding. And here I was thinking about running a marathon.”
He glanced up again. This time the slightest hint of a smile touched his full lips, softening the impact of his eyes. “Maybe tomorrow.”
He seemed in no great hurry to move, which was odd. She knew from past experience that SIU breezed in and out of situations before you had time to blink. Him squatting at her feet simply didn’t make sense. Unless, of course, he had a motive for doing so.
Her heart began to beat a little faster. Maybe they’d discovered something about Jack’s case, something that implicated her. But if that were the case, why didn’t he simply arrest her?
Swallowing to ease the sudden dryness in her throat, she asked, “What are you doing here?”
He rocked back on his heels slightly. “Direct. I like that.”
“I don’t care what you like, mister. Just answer the damn question.”
If her tone was less than civil, who cared? If he was here on official business, she had the right to know. And if he wasn’t … well, what in hell did he want?
The slight smile tugged the corners of his lips again. She had an odd impression it was something that didn’t happen often. Which would be a pity, since even a slight smile transformed his angular features into something worth a second look.
“The SIU have assigned me as a temporary guard. We believe your life might be in danger.” He glanced up the stairs, then back at her. “It looks like we were right.”
“Yeah, except you’re just a little late.” She paused, her gaze narrowing. “Why the hell would an assistant director be assigned such a menial task?”
“Because the squad is stretched to the limit and there is no one else. And we’ve never claimed to be perfect.”
She snorted softly. The squad might well be short on people, but she had a feeling this man was here for reasons other than that. “Right. Am I able to get back into my apartment?”
He nodded. “I haven’t set the monitor yet.”
So he had been waiting for her. Interesting. “How bad is the damage?”
He shrugged. “Structurally, nothing much.”
Which surely meant there was a shitload of damage to everything else. “I want to see.”
He didn’t argue, simply rose to his feet and held out his hand. She grabbed it gratefully. His fingers were warm against hers, his palm slightly callused. He wasn’t just a simple desk jockey, then, which again was odd. There weren’t many assistant directors who could claim that.
But then, there weren’t many ADs who opted for bodyguard duty. Again, she had an odd sensation that someone was setting her up. But for what?
She’d barely stood when the pain hit her, sucking away whatever strength her muscles had left.
“Oh, Christ,” she muttered, knowing she was falling but unable to do one goddamn thing to prevent it.