Page 40 of Healing the Heart

“Why?”

“If someone has possession of your device, and you, they can easily do what you just did.”

She grimaced, her furrowed brow staying that way as she replied, “I don’t even want to think about that happening. Not today. Maybe not ever.”

“Yeah,” he replied, wishing he hadn’t brought it up. At least not now, with everything she had on her plate, frazzled nerves, and no sleep.

His thumbs moved over the screen as he explained, “I’m adding numbers to favorites. First, the control room here at Rossi. It’s manned 24/7. Call them in an emergency, and they’ll take it from there. You’ll also have my cell, and the landline at my condo, and I’m adding Keiran as a backup.”

“A landline?” she asked. “I didn’t think anyone under sixty had one of those anymore.”

“I like to have another option for calling out.” He looked up at her, moving just his eyes. “How old are you, Fiona?”

“Thirty-four.”

“Just so you know, I’m not a boomer or old enough to be your dad.”

Her already pale face turned ghostly white, and an apology tumbled past her lips. “That wasn’t a crack about your age. Really, sir. I was just surprised.”

“I know it wasn’t. You’re tense. I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

She nodded, looking down at her hands. “I don’t think my mood will ever be light again.”

He felt bad for teasing her. “It will,” he murmured gently, returning her purse and slipping his arm around her shoulders. “We’ll catch this guy, and your life will go back to normal.”

Suddenly reminded of something she’d mentioned earlier, he asked, “If they impounded your car, how did you get here?”

“I Ubered.”

He should have known. “Your dial-a-ride days in a stranger’s car are over. I’ll drive you to the station then home.” Out in the hall, instead of going left toward the lobby, he turned them right. “One more stop before we go. I want to check your tracker’s signal.”

He entered the control room at the end of the hall with Fiona in tow. The room was big because it needed to be. When they first opened a few years back, they had to blow out two walls and combine three offices to accommodate all the surveillance equipment.

To his surprise, Tristan sat at the bank of monitors, his eyes fixed on the screens. He glanced up when they entered, but only for a second.

“Where’s Vic?” Noah asked.

“Sick with the flu,” he grunted in answer. “Mia and the kids too—all seven of them. We’re all taking shifts to cover for him. I’m surprised Keiran hasn’t hit you up.”

“He hasn’t had time. I only got back from Ecuador a few days ago. Besides, I just took on a new case.”

Tristan’s gaze flicked to Fiona for a moment before returning to the screens. “I heard there was trouble last night. Any leads?”

“We’re heading to the station to find out. Before we leave, I need to check the status of her tracker.”

“T113 just came on line. The signal looks good.”

On the way out, she uttered under her breath, “And here I thought this was a personal security company. That looked like central intelligence.”

“We’re not in the spy business, but we do a lot more than security—surveillance, investigations, and, from time to time, government contracts.”

“Holy smokes. You do all that, and you’re a surgeon?”

With his hand on her back above her delightfully curvy backside, he explained as they walked toward the front.

“I have a practice in town with six partners. Because of my increased deployment with SVI, my office hours have been significantly reduced.”

“SVI?”

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