She sighs, slumping. “Someone found me, didn’t they?”
“Yes. I’m so sorry.”
She glances at the cottage. “I’ve lived here for three years. Now I’ll never feel safe enough to sleep here again.”
“You don’t have to, baby. I bet the girls are rushing around the mansion as we speak to make sure our new rooms are ready to move into this evening.”
She dabs at her eyes. She’s not crying, but she’s barely holding the tears back. I understand her frustration. No one wants to come home and find their place covered in obscene graffiti. She’s been violated.
Tiago joins us. “It’s safe to go inside,” he says softly. “I’m sorry this is happening to you, Melody.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I lift her out of the truck and set her on her feet. Taking her hand, I lead her to the house. “Don’t touch the package,” I say, pointing to where it’s propped against the siding.
Her breath hitches. “Fuck. That’s book-shaped.”
“Yep,” I agree.
Dallas is in the living room. “Can you give me access to your Ring account, Melody? I’ll see if the camera caught anything today and then go back in time and look for anything suspicious.”
“Yeah…” She’s resigned, deflated. I hate it.
I guide her into her office and wait while she powers up her computer. I haven’t been in this room before, but I’m kind of surprised to see there is not a shred of evidence to indicate who she really is. It looks like a standard office with a large desk, a monitor, a router, the usual. She has it all plugged into a small electric generator.
As she sits in her comfortable chair, she gestures toward the closet. “There’s a safe in there. At some point, I’ll need to deal with it.”
I open the closet door, only half surprised to find an enormous safe. No one is going to hack into it or steal it without difficulty. This is where she keeps everything related to her business. I’m sure of it.
After she gets the computer running and opens her browser, loading the Ring camera footage, she stands.
Dallas takes her seat and immediately starts scrolling through footage.
Melody heads to where I’m waiting at the door, but suddenly she stops dead, not moving. She stares at the floor for a moment and then jerks her gaze up. “I know what’s in the package and how it got into the wrong hands.”
Tiago and Johnston are behind me in the hallway. There’s a collective gasp.
“What are you thinking, baby?” I ask.
“My assistant mails me a copy of every book when the first print batch arrives at her house. I keep them in my safe. The last one never arrived. We assumed the post office lost it.”
I step to the side as Johnston groans. “Mail tampering is a federal offense.”
I nod. “So someone stole it out of the mailbox before Melody got the mail one day.”
“Or it was intercepted and never made it to the mailbox,” Dallas suggests without taking his gaze off the screen.
That idea is even more horrifying.
Melody cringes. “There’s no way my postman, Jessop, would steal my mail. He’s the nicest guy I’ve ever met. The entire town loves him.”
“I agree,” Johnston replies. “That’s incredibly unlikely. But there are other possibilities. It could have been stolen before it got to Jessop, like Dallas suggested. But I’m betting someone waited for the mail to arrive and took it out of the box. I’m going to try to pull prints off the package. I’ve got gloves and a secure bag in my patrol car.”
Dallas nods. “I’ll try to find someone stealing from the mailbox, but that’s going to take time.”
I glance at the monitor. “Is that today?”
Dallas sighs. “Yes. It’s no help. Whoever vandalized the front of the house knew they needed to black out the camera. They came from the side on foot and reached around to spray the lens. Then the footage goes black.”
