Page 38 of Trap ’N’ Trace

“Yeah, well you’re not me, so forget it.” Dayne glared at his friend, not liking the insinuation. “I’m only here to keep her safe.”

“Okay, man.” Jaime threw up his hands in defeat.

“Why don’t we go inside and help the lady key in her new code?” Markus suggested.

“Good idea.” Dayne followed Markus to the castle then veered off to meet one of the guards. “Be there in a minute.”

Remy and Angus followed his friends inside while Dayne exchanged cell numbers with the guards. His phone buzzed with a text. A delivery van—Hudson Valley Floral—was approaching the gate.

Less than a minute later, a white van ambled up the road and pulled into the driveway. Dayne set down the bags as a man in his late thirties or early forties, with brown hair, a mustache, and beard, got out carrying a long box. Ignoring Dayne, he rounded the van and made for the stairs. The embroidered tag on the guy’s jacket said Manny. And he had a passing resemblance to Kat’s police sketch.

Dayne stepped into Manny’s path. “I’ll take those.” The fewer people who went inside, the better.

Ignoring his order, Manny tried brushing past, and again, Dayne blocked him. “I said, I’ll take those.”

Manny’s eyes rounded, and his jaw clamped shut as he stared at Dayne. “But I always take them in,” he insisted.

When Manny started past Dayne again, he planted a firm hand on the guy’s chest and gave a not-too-subtle shake of his head. “Not today, you don’t.” Not ever, if Dayne had his way. There was something off about him, and it wasn’t just because he looked somewhat like the sketch. Dayne widened his stance, preparing to flatten the guy if he didn’t back off.

Manny’s face flushed angry red and his lower lip trembled. “Who the fuck are you?” The guy’s words might be tough, but his delivery lacked punch.

“I’m the fucker that says you’re not going inside.” Manny’s eyes glossed over, and Dayne thought the guy was about to cry. Ah, hell. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and tugged out a $5 bill. “Take it and go.”

Manny’s eyes flicked briefly to the front door, as if assessing his chances.

Don’t be stupid, pal.

Manny’s nostrils flared like a bull ready to charge headfirst at a matador. Then he hung his head and let out a dejected breath, his brief moment of bravado deflating like a popped balloon. He thrust the box at Dayne’s chest and snatched the bill, shoving it in his pants pocket as he spun and got back in the van. White stone spit from beneath the van’s rear tires as it sped down the drive.

“What the heck was that about?” Dayne took his eyes off the van only long enough to text John Benton to confirm when the vehicle had left the property. After the text came in, he balanced the flower box under one arm, grabbing his and Remy’s bags. He fully intended to have a serious sit-down with Kat about letting outsiders into her house because Manny just pinged a solid ten on his creepy-as-shit-delivery-guy radar.

He was greeted with the now-familiar sight of Remy stalking around with Angus’s jaws clamped around one of her legs, dragging the puppy along the floor.

Laughter came from the kitchen where Kat, Emily, and his friends watched.

“I’ll take those.” Emily hopped off a stool and slipped the box from under his arm. “I take it you met Manny. Kat orders a dozen roses every week, and every week, Manny delivers them like clockwork.”

“Yeah. About Manny—” His phone buzzed with another incoming text and he set down the bags. Silver Jag approaching. Seconds later, the new keypad by the door dinged.

“C’mon,” Kade said to Kat. “I’ll show you how the new system works.” He stopped with her by the keypad. “Press this button and you can talk to whoever’s at the gate.”

She pressed the button and spoke into the intercom. “Who is it?”

“Colin,” an impatient voice snapped. “The code isn’t working.”

“I know.” She grimaced. “I’ll buzz you in.”

Emily cleared her throat. “I’d better get these in water then pack up and go home. Kat, I’ll talk with you tomorrow about your schedule for next week.” Hastily, she took the box of roses into the kitchen.

Outside, a car door slammed. Then the door handle jiggled. The guy actually thought he could walk right in as if he owned the place. Or has a special place in Kat’s life. Maybe he did. Dayne hoped not. Not for personal reasons. She deserved better than a pompous prick like Colin.

Kat opened the door to a scowling Colin.

“Why didn’t you give me the new code?” He set his shiny briefcase on the floor then leaned down to kiss her. In a perfunctory fashion, she turned her head, offering him her cheek.

“Who are these people?” Dayne didn’t miss the condescending emphasis. “And what’s wrong with your neck?”

Ignoring his last question, she indicated Dayne. “This is Dayne, whom, of course, you’ve already met, and these are his friends.” When she introduced Kade, Jaime, and Markus, he acknowledged them with a grunt. Dayne, he completely ignored. “They just installed a new security system. Don’t feel bad about not knowing the new code. Even I don’t know it yet.”