"I believe you."
"Even if the cameras don't show anything?"
"Even then." Devon sat beside her, close enough that she could feel his warmth. "You're not the kind of person who imagines things."
"The article made me look unstable. Another incident like this?—"
"This isn't like the article. This is someone breaking into your home." His voice was firm. "That's a crime, not a PR problem."
Tears stung her eyes.
He wrapped his arm around her body and tugged her close. “Sandy will figure this out. She’s the best chief we’ve had in years.”
She dropped her head to his shoulder and tried to suck in a deep breath, but her lungs wouldn’t expand. Her muscles trembled. She couldn’t remember a time in her life when she’d been this terrified.
“Hey. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
“Someone was here. While I was sleeping.” She glanced up at him. “What if I hadn’t woken up? What if they wanted to…” she let the words trail off, but the thought didn’t leave her brain. The idea that someone could’ve raped her, or worse, made her heart race faster.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He pressed his lips against her temple and smoothed her hair.
She completely collapsed into his strong frame, giving way to all the emotions. Fear. Panic. Confusion. Anger. Tears came hot and fast.
Devon just held her tighter. He didn’t say a word. She had no idea how long they sat there while she unraveled.
But shortly, Sandy returned with Bryson and Chen. Her face was tight. “We found something," she said, pulling up her phone to show a grainy video. "Front door camera, timestamp 2:38 AM."
The footage showed the front entrance to the guesthouse, lit by the porch light. For several seconds, nothing moved. Then—a shadow. Brief, indistinct, moving quickly across the frame from right to left.
"That's it?" Emery leaned closer. "You can't see anything."
"No clear view of the person, no identifying features," Chen confirmed. "But someone was definitely here."
"The angle's wrong to catch them approaching," Bryson explained. "Cameras positioned to show who's at the front door,not movement along the side of the building. But whoever this was, they knew to avoid the main camera coverage. And they knew where most of our cameras are located on the property. The only thing we got is someone jumping the fence on the west side near the access road.”
Sandy held her notebook in her hands. "That suggests more than a familiarity with the layout. Someone who knows how the security system works and what would set off an alarm, which wasn’t activated.”
The implication hung in the air, heavy and unsettling.
"Nothing was taken," Sandy continued. "Nothing appears disturbed. Can you think of any reason someone would break in without stealing or vandalizing?"
Emery gestured helplessly at the provenance files scattered across the coffee table. "I've been working on authentication documentation. That could be valuable to someone who wants to sabotage the program.”
"Or to the Boone’s competitors," Sandy said thoughtfully. "Someone who wants to know what Stone Bridge is planning, but they’d have to know to look here. While this is a small town, and people are whispering about your role, it’s not the first place I’d go looking for Stone Bridge Winery secrets.”
"Industrial espionage?" Devon's tone was not only skeptical, it was laced with a touch of frustration. “While I get it happens, it’s extremely rare in the valley.”
“It’s happened before. The premium wine market is worth millions. If someone wanted an edge, knowing your authentication processes, your target collectors, your expansion strategy—that's valuable information." Sandy closed her notebook.
"But breaking in to look at paperwork?" Emery pulled the blanket tighter around her body. "Why not just hack our email? Take photos with a telephoto lens? Breaking and entering seemslike a good way to get caught. Especially in the middle of the night. And a little stupid when the majority of the important pieces are either locked up in the production building, which has people in twenty-four-seven right now, or the main house offices.”
"Unless the point wasn't just gathering information," Chen said quietly. "Maybe the point was intimidation."
The word settled like ice in Emery's stomach.
“That’s what I believe. That someone's targeting her," Devon said, his voice tight with anger. "The article, the video from the tasting room, now this."
“I’m certainly not going to rule that out,” Sandy agreed. "Which brings me to my next question. Harold Pemberton—I've been looking into him like I said I would—background check, financial records, business practices. Everything comes back clean. Almost suspiciously clean."
