The Hill. Carol Ericson

call him Griff.”

      The older man didn’t even rise from his chair, and Judd leaned over to shake his hand. “Retired cop?”

      Griff grinned. “That obvious?”

      Obvious he’d found himself a cushy job while collecting his pension. “I have a couple of brothers who are cops—it’s just the look.”

      He walked behind Griff and hovered over his shoulder. “Why is that monitor dark?”

      “Couldn’t tell you. I’m not the tech guy. It’s been reported and someone’s going to come out to work on it.”

      “Which area does it cover?”

      “The garage, I think.” He slapped his magazine down on the desk and tapped a few keys on the keyboard, which did nothing at all. “Yeah, that’s the garage.”

      “What are your shifts here?”

      Griff shot a look beneath shaggy eyebrows at London, who lifted one shoulder. “Eight to four, four to midnight, and midnight to eight. It’s twenty-four-hour coverage.”

      “Do you ever leave the desk?”

      The guard picked up his celebrity magazine and shook it out. “When nature calls, buddy.”

      “Lunch? Patrols around the building?”

      “Yep.”

      “Any coverage when that happens?”

      “Nope.”

      Judd rapped on the desk with his knuckles. “Thanks for the info, Griff.”

      He hadn’t meant to piss off the old guy, but some people took his tone the wrong way. Hell, London had hired him to protect her, not make nice with lazy security guards. The guys on the night shifts had to be better.

      As he followed London across the lobby to the elevators, he glanced up at the cameras in the corners—visible and easy to dismantle or block.

      London stabbed at the elevator call button and hissed, “Why were you interrogating Griff like that? He’s a good guy.”

      “He’s a retired cop who found himself an easy gig where he can sit on his ass and read celebrity rags.”

      “Shh.” She put a finger to her lips, her sculpted eyebrows colliding over her nose.

      The elevator doors whispered open and he stepped into the mirrored car after London. “Just calling it like it is. I’m here to assess the risks to your security and I just found two of them. You don’t let random strangers into the building just because they buzz your place, do you?”

      “No, sir.” She trailed a finger across her left breast. “Cross my heart.”

      He dragged his gaze away from her cleavage and backed up against one mirrored wall. “Good, because that’s just stupid. What’s the point of having a coded key entry?”

      “No point at all.”

      “Are you making fun of me? Because this is serious. This is your security.”

      Her smile twitched at one corner. “It’s just that you got all stern on me and poor Griff.”

      God, he must’ve come across like his brothers. He folded his arms across his chest. “Just doing my job, ma’am.”

      “And I appreciate that.”

      The elevator dinged to a stop and the doors slid open onto a quiet hallway. The shiny marble from the lobby had been replaced by carpet so thick his boot would probably leave a crater in the pile.

      “How many places up here?” He glanced down the hallway. Technically she had the penthouse, since her place occupied the top floor of the building, but it looked as if she shared the space with at least one other unit.

      “Two.” She had her keys in her hand.

      “Who’s your neighbor?”

      “I don’t have one.”

      “Is the other place for sale?”

      “No.” She spun around at her door. “I own the other place. I bought it when the previous owner gave it up.”

      He held up his hands at her defensive tone. “Hey, I’d do the same.”

      She shoved her key into the dead bolt and froze. “Judd.”

      “What?”

      “I always lock my dead bolt, and it’s not locked.”

      Adrenaline shot through his system and he reached for the weapon in his gun bag. “Step back, London. Let me go through first.”

      She unlocked the door handle and he twisted it. He raised his gun, easing the door open.

      He took in the scene before him. Either London Breck was one messy heiress or her place had been tossed.

      She gasped behind him and let loose with a string of profanities.

      Her place had been tossed.