Briefly, Jane acknowledged that he looked good using the SWAT approach, like a professional. But she had more important things to worry about than admiring his athleticism and technique-like trying to stop him from taking the law into his own hands.

“Sebastian!” she hissed, standing on the triangle of soggy earth outside her car door. “This isn’t safe. Someone could get hurt.”

She knew he’d heard her when he looked back. But he wasn’t happy she’d broken the silence. With a dark scowl, he waved for her to get back in the car and shut up.

Obviously, he was going in whether she liked it or not. She could call David and try to find out where the deputy was, or she could follow him.

It would definitely be safer to stay in the car. But if Malcolm Turner was in that house and he was as dangerous as Sebastian thought, she should probably try to help. And what about Latisha and Marcie? They could be inside, too. Jane definitely didn’t want them to get hurt in whatever was about to happen.

With a curse, she stepped around the car door and closed it so softly it didn’t actually latch. Then she copied Sebastian’s SWAT performance. She was positive she didn’t look as good doing it, but there were no neighbors to witness her behavior-and she preferred to take any precautions she could to avoid getting shot.

“This is crazy,” she told herself over and over.

Sebastian was on the porch before she reached the front yard. He glanced in her direction, then did a double take. Pointing, he motioned for her to return the way she’d come, but she shook her head resolutely and continued forward, forcing him to wait for her.

Once they were close enough to speak without alerting anyone inside, she whispered, “I’ll go around the house, in case anyone comes out the back door.”

He’d been about to complain, or order her back to the car, even though he had no authority to do that. He had no authority to do anything, but he wasn’t asking permission, and she could tell by the crease in his forehead that he didn’t care if she had complaints.

Her plan must’ve made sense to him, however-or else he was pacified by the fact that she had a gun and could defend herself if necessary, thus removing the burden from him. Either way, his annoyed expression dissolved into the determination that’d been there before.

“Okay,” he said, his voice barely audible. “But make sure you have some sort of cover at all times. Do you understand?”

Ignoring the “Do you understand?”-who put him in charge, anyway?-she slipped around to the side yard. Fortunately, she didn’t have to worry about running into any unfriendly dogs. There was no fence around the property. She could see that the backyard held nothing except a weather-beaten shed, some old tires and more mud.

“This is going to ruin my nice shoes,” she grumbled and did her best to hug the concrete foundation of the house-to avoid their destruction as much as her own.

It started to sprinkle as she took her position behind the shed. Although she was farther from the house than she would’ve liked, she couldn’t find better cover. The tires were lying flat on the ground, and there wasn’t so much as a tree between her and the back door.

Nothing seemed to be happening, anyway. Where was Sebastian? Had he knocked? He hadn’t fired; she would’ve heard that.

The wind whistled through the cracks of the shed, but there were no voices, no evidence of movement.

“Come on, come on.” Peering around the corner, she saw the same static view she’d seen before and wished it was all over. Her teeth chattered from the cold and rain. She’d been so concerned that a man she’d met an hour ago was approaching the house with a loaded firearm that she’d left the car without her coat.

A sudden noise-a loud crack-made her knees go weak. She was just reassuring herself that it hadn’t been a gunshot when Sebastian called out to her. “It’s safe. There’s no one here.”

Thank God. Leaning her head back to gulp for breath, she dropped her gun to her side.

“Hey, Burke!” he called when she didn’t answer. “You there? You okay?”

Burke? She hated going by Oliver’s last name. She would’ve changed it except that she would’ve had to change Kate’s, too, which would have hurt Oliver’s parents even more. They were good people. They didn’t deserve the pain he’d caused them.

“Burke!”

She leaned over to see him standing under the small covering that sheltered the back porch. The crack had been the wind wresting the door from his grasp and slamming it against the exterior wall. She could tell by the way he was hanging on to it.

“Name’s Jane,” she said. “And I’m fine.”

“You planning to stay out in the rain all day?” he asked when she didn’t budge.

With her free hand, Jane rubbed the wetness from her face. So many things could’ve happened in the past few minutes. She could’ve been shot in a gunfight-or shot someone else. Innocent victims might have been injured or killed. She could’ve been apprehended by the police and lost her weapon and any hope she had of obtaining a permit. Any of which would’ve cost her the job she needed in order to support her daughter.

All because of Sebastian Costas.

A surge of anger lent Jane’s legs fresh strength. Too furious to worry about damaging her shoes, she marched across the muddy yard, sinking a few inches with every step. “What did you think you were doing?” she demanded. “Trying to get us both killed? You’re not a cop! You don’t have a license to carry that gun in California! And no one put you in charge!”

“Calm down,” he said. “Everything’s okay.”

“Only because there was no one around for you to shoot!”

Obviously not intimidated by her, he looked her up and down as she came closer. “That isn’t strictly true, now is it?”

Jane narrowed her eyes. “Are you threatening me?”

Irritation carved another crease in his forehead. “Of course not. I’m just telling you to stop being such a pain in the ass.”

“I’m the pain?” she shouted. “I trusted you when I brought you here.” She ignored the fact that he’d driven, because she’d provided the address. “And then you pull out a loaded weapon and approach this house as if you’ve got the right to storm anyplace you want. What was going through your head? For all you knew, there were children inside!”

“Malcolm Turner is dangerous.”

“He doesn’t even live here anymore. What if someone else had moved in?”

His face an implacable mask, he shrugged. “Then I would’ve put the gun away.”

Blowing out a sigh, she shook her head. “If I report this, you could be brought up on charges. At a minimum, your firearm would be confiscated. You realize that?”

“Nothing happened,” he reiterated and walked inside.

Unwilling to be left in the rain, Jane followed. “You’re making me wonder who’s more dangerous-you or Wesley Boss,” she yelled at his back.

He didn’t respond. He went into the entry hall and checked the coat closet. Then he went into the garage.

She remained in the empty living room, staring down at her feet. Sebastian was to blame for her soggy shoes, too. But haranguing him about it wasn’t going to change anything.

After her blood pressure returned to normal, she began to look around herself. Obviously, whoever had lived here had packed up and moved on. There was some old furniture-just the bare necessities-but no signs of habitation. That had to be why the deputy wasn’t around when they arrived. He’d already come and gone.

Avoiding the kitchen because Sebastian had just gone in there, she walked from room to room. Brown shag carpet, matted from wear, covered the floors, except for a small patch of tile at the front door. There were three bedrooms, two baths, the standard kitchen and dining room combo with a large family room. Jane didn’t see any evidence that Latisha or Marcie had ever been here. But she didn’t see any evidence that Wesley Boss had been here, either.