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Camaro into the garage and shut off the engine.
    “Is your client secure?” Claudia asked.
    “She is and good morning to you, too,” he teased.
    Claudia grunted. “There’s a lot of chatter on the news outlets.”
    “No kidding. You’re on speaker by the way,” he added before going on, “the latest report mentioned a witness to the crime and the police want to bring my client in as a person of interest. I need to know what changed and who this witness is before I make a decision on an appropriate move.”
    “Anything else?”
    “Not right now.” In the background, he listened to Claudia’s chair creaking.
    “Send a text with your grocery list and I’ll arrange the delivery,” she offered, ever one step ahead of him.
    Though he’d never had a face to face with Claudia, Mike could imagine her workspace based on his military experience with technical personnel and communications experts. An array of monitors probably fanned out across a wide desk in a dim room. She didn’t seem to have regular hours and he couldn’t be sure if she assisted any other protectors.
    “Who is that?” Lauren asked in a whisper.
    “I’m Claudia, technical assistant for the Guardian Agency, Miss Woods. You’ll have to excuse Mike, he has no manners.”
    Lauren gave him a look that suggested she was inclined to agree with Claudia.
    “You have an ETA on that info?” he asked, ready to get out of this car and to put a little distance between him and the lady who had his senses standing at attention for more reasons than one.
    “This is going to take some time,” Claudia announced. “I can get into the reporter’s emails, but the police server is a different matter. Keep your head down until I call you back.”
    She ended the call before he could reply.
    “So we lay low for a while,” Mike said, pushing open his door.
    “There’s nothing we can do but wait?” Lauren grabbed her purse and climbed out.
    He glanced at her across the roof of the car before reaching into the back seat for their bags. “We wait, yes. The house isn’t a hardship, trust me.”
    “But...”
    She looked lost. And all wrong as a brunette. He shook off the random thought. “You still have questions about how this should go?”
    She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, Mr. Stone.”
    He understood. She needed this to be over. She needed to believe that good would prevail over evil. Lauren Marie Woods might not realize it but she was still a little naïve about the way the world worked. “How about you call me Mike. Mr. Stone is my old man.”
    She nodded. “All right. So, what now?”
    “Let’s get settled and then we’ll talk.”
    She released a big breath. “I guess you’re the boss.”
    A fact she was obviously less than pleased about. He reminded himself she was stressed out—with good reason. “I’m here to keep you out of harm’s way, Miss Woods. You might not like my methods, but they work.”
    Her answer was a stiff nod. He checked off another
not good
. The lady was cooperating for now, but he could already see the fight in her building. At some point, sooner rather than later he suspected, she was going to balk at his orders. No point borrowing trouble. He’d deal with the issue when it arose.
    He unlocked the door and urged her through so he could disarm the security system. Closing the door behind him, he threw the deadbolt and entered another code that would alert him to any attempts to invade the property. Then he set the chimes on the doors, just in case she got fed up with his orders and tried to leave.
    “Kitchen is straight ahead,” he said. “You can check the supplies and let me know what to request to make your stay more tolerable.”
    He dropped the bags. The last time he’d brought a client here, they’d been momentarily distracted from their troubles, in awe of the marble floors, gourmet kitchen, and fully stocked bar. Not to mention the sweeping view of the city. It wasn’t the ocean, but even he