Page 27 of Controlled Chaos

“Actually, I’m kind of tired from the trip today,” Clara said.

“Come on, dear. I think that’s Ms. Bennett’s polite way of kicking us out,” Thaddeus said, leading Porter’s mother to the door.

“We’ll see you guys at breakfast,” Porter assured his mom, standing at the door as they stepped out onto the patio.

“Okay. Well, we’ll post Robert at this end of the property to make sure nothing else happens. Won’t we, dear?” Mom said in a tone that meant the topic wasn’t up for discussion.

“Of course. That will give all of us peace of mind.”

Robert stood huddled with the other three guards when he heard his new assignment. To his defense, there wasn’t a shred of defiance that clouded his eyes. Not one sigh or eye roll, even though Porter was sure the duty wasn’t going to be fun.

“Yes, ma’am,” Robert answered with a straight face.

“I’ll coordinate the search for Ms. Bennett’s personal items first thing in the morning,” Edward announced.

“And I’ll pull some toiletries and supplies out of storage to tide her over. It’s the least we can do,” his Mom said.

“Thanks.” Porter nodded in appreciation.

His mother’s gaze softened as she turned and walked with the others back to what he’d always called the Big House.

Porter closed the door and locked the deadbolt before going around the bungalow and checking all of the windows and entryways.

The sound of running water drew him into the bathroom. Steam from Clara’s shower fogged the mirror.

“I guess your things getting stolen didn’t really faze you,” he said into the heated space.

She peeked out, using the shower curtain to shield her body from his view. Water glistened on her face, and her hair was wet. “I’m not worried about someone coming back. They’ll wish they hadn’t if I catch them in here.” She gestured to the sink. “I borrowed some things from your suitcase. I hope you don’t mind.”

He glanced to the clothes sitting on top of the sink’s edge to find a pair of his boxers and his favorite college T-shirt. “Help yourself to my stuff. We’ll have to add finding the thief to our list of things to do.”

“A thief and a killer. This trip keeps getting more interesting,” Clara said, shutting the curtain.

Porter changed into lounge pants and a T-shirt he could sleep in and crawled into bed. He was trying to get service on his laptop when Clara reappeared.

“Service is spotty. It worked in the main building, but with every step we took to the bungalow, it started to deteriorate. I’ve already tried.”

“When did you possibly have a chance to check cell service?” he asked.

She lifted her arm for him to see the smart watch she was wearing. “This sucker even has GPS.”

“You realize that might be how that guy is finding you,” Porter said.

Her mouth parted seconds before she snapped it closed and then took the watch off. The FBI had used many methods tracking those that believed they were off the grid. All it took was a single cell service connected to their account and the FBI could get a hit.

Clara tossed the watch onto the dresser, the face no longer showing the time. The wet strands of her hair lay down the back of his shirt. She’d washed her makeup off to reveal a girl-next-door kind of beauty.

“Anything in your bags we should worry about?” Porter asked.

“Oh, you know, clothes, makeup, girl things, and one of my special drawings.”

Porter’s eyes widened, and he snapped the laptop closed. “What was that drawing supposed to do?”

Clara grinned.

---