“You’re not arguing with him again?” The strident note in her words had him smiling.
“I’ve apologized to you and Manu. Besides, we’re cousins and friends. We argue, and we move on.”
“Oh. Okay.” Cassie pulled open drawers, placed clothes in a pile on the bed. “Um, can you come with me to the bathroom?” Her chin wobbled and he closed the distance between them to offer comfort. Her vulnerability dragged out the protective caveman. Something new, but an action he didn’t shy from with Cassie.
“What do you need? I can get it for you.”
“My toothbrush and other toiletries.”
“All right, babe. You finishing packing. I’ll get them for you.”
Hone strode into the bathroom, noted the window—open scant inches due to the security lock—the black dusting of fingerprint powder. After sucking in a deep breath to test for scents, he scowled. An out-of-place smell polluted the air. Greasy. Paint-like. It could’ve come from the cops. He’d question Cassie once she’d calmed.
He secured the window and gathered the toiletries into the blue toilet bag sitting on the vanity top. “I think I have everything. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” She stood by the bed, arms wrapped around her torso.
“You’ve had an eventful day.” He tossed the toilet bag into the open bag on the bed and zipped it shut, then picked it up with his left hand.
“I don’t want a repeat, that’s for sure.”
An understatement. Run off the road this morning and an intruder tonight. “Any enemies you know of?”
“I haven’t been back in New Zealand for long.” A furrow formed between her bloodshot eyes, and she gnawed her bottom lip like a champ. “I haven’t had time to make enemies.”
“Ex-boyfriends?”
“I spoke to Kevin earlier today. While we didn’t part on good terms, we still work together. It’s not him since he’s still in Los Angeles.”
“I see.” Not really, and neither did his taniwha. The idea of another man with hands-on privileges brought the beast to growly life. Hone—the man—disliked the thought too. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve no reason to suppose otherwise. I need my guitar,” she said without warning, balking at his gentle guidance toward the door. “I can’t go without it.” She darted away, grabbed the instrument and returned to his side.
“Where is the case?”
“Still at your place.”
Guilt roared through him in a dizzy rush. His fault. God, he hadn’t experienced the longing to pummel Manu since his teen days when he was learning to control his taniwha. His father would’ve been horrified. His uncle too, but he figured Manu wouldn’t blab because that would draw June’s attention. No one wanted the matriarch angry, spurting fiery punishment.
“Did the police have any idea of the prowler’s identity?”
“They said they hadn’t received reports of clowns breaking into properties.” She pulled a face. “Clowns are creepy.”
“You ain’t wrong.” Hone scanned the motel grounds as he hustled Cassie to his vehicle. The back of his neck tingled, dragon spidery-senses roaring, and he didn’t doubt someone skulked in the darkness. Watching. Calculating. It would be interesting to see if that Peeping Tom followed them—not that he’d make their location easy to discover.
His vehicle unlocked, and he placed Cassie’s bag in the rear. He opened the passenger door for her, half his attention on their surroundings. If he could pinpoint the vicinity, he might have a chance of catching the bastard.
A chuff of approval rippled through his mind, yet the human part of him tempered the eagerness with a mental order.
We need to keep Cassie safe.
“Have plans for tomorrow?” During the drive home, he scrutinized other vehicles while doing the small-chat thing with Cassie.
“Same as earlier. The clown doesn’t change anything.”
“Who dresses up as a clown?”
“Yeah. I know. Who does that?” She yawned, white teeth flashing before she clapped a hand over her lips. “Sorry.”
