Sending one last prayer to heaven, I touched it.
Thank God. Before I could say “It’s stuffed” Ashley screamed.
I was on my feet and ripping off my gloves faster than my brain could think. My arms were around her before I gave myself conscious permission to move. Needing to comfort her, I held Ashley to my chest and whispered “It’s not Prince” over and over until she stopped crying.
“We’re clear. Call everyone in,” Jack said, taking over the lead while I walked Ashley to the living room. John walked the pale-faced Violet to the couch and sat her beside Ashley.
“What happened?” Violet held her head high, but her voice trembled.
“A cruel joke,” I answered.
“I thought it was Prince,” Ashley said through her sniffles.
Needing to focus on the task at hand, not Ashley’s emotions, I transitioned back into professional mode.
“It wasn’t. It’s a stuffed animal.”
Whoever did this wanted to invoke terror. And worse, they knew intimate details about the York household.
Whoever did this had watched the house, waiting for us to leave.
When I looked at John, I could tell we’d formed the same conclusion—the Yorks needed more protection. “I’ll arrange it.”
“Arrange what?” Violet asked.
“Go, I’ve got this,” I said, dismissing John. It wasn’t an order, despite my rough voice, but he followed it.
“One person isn’t enough. We need someone outside the house twenty-four seven.”
“Isn’t that why we have cameras?” Ashley asked.
“Yes, but…” The person who broke in had probably disabled them. “We’ll check the feed, but the cameras didn’t prevent the break-in.”
After making his call, John made tea and delivered cups to Violet and Ashley. Violet made a fuss about being waited on in her own home, but John sweet-talked her. “Let us spoil you a little while we wait for the police to arrive.”
“Can’t you solve it?” Violet asked.
“We can, and we will, but we still have to report it,” he answered. “When the police are done, we’ll clean up the mess.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Violet, please don’t argue with me about this.” John’s words asked, but his tone issued an order.
“It’s okay, Gran.” Ashley held her grandmother’s hand. “Just think, watching the handsome SSI guys do housework will be even better than having a chauffeur.” Ashley’s injection of humor helped convince Violet.
“In the meantime, I have some more questions for you,” John said.
“Nathan, got a second?” Cate asked from the kitchen entryway.
“Go, I’ll stay here.” John took out his notebook, ready to take notes the old-fashioned way.
Cate tilted her head toward the kitchen, so I followed her.
“What’s your assessment?” I asked. As a former FBI profiler, Cate’s opinion would be invaluable.
“This isn’t Finn. Nothing in his profile leads me to believe he’s capable of this.”
I didn’t think so either, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t involved.
