She listened to the person on the line for a moment before thanking them and ending the call. “They’re coming.”
“I’m calling Carson.” He brought his phone to his ear and had his boss man on the line in less than three heartbeats—his response time much better than the Willowbrook PD.
As soon as Carson answered, Gabe burst out, “Someone broke into Felicity’s car.”
“Goddammit. This is escalating. Did they take anything this time?”
“A journal. The one I mentioned to you this morning.”
“The one in the box of books.”
“Yes.” He clenched his jaw and looked toward the police station once more. “I have serious doubts about the Willowbrook PD.”
“Same. But that’s why she has you. What about the floodlight cam you just installed? Did it pick up anything?”
He put Carson on speaker so he could check the app. If there was a notification of movement behind the building, he hadn’t received it. They were busy. With the…books.
He opened the footage and froze. “Dammit.”
“What is it?” She leaned into him to see his screen.
“A twelve-second blackout in the footage. The feed dropped.” Static sizzled on the screen before coming back on, crystal clear and revealing absolutelynothing. “Somebody killed the signal when they were at the car. They knew what they were doing.”
“Gabe.” Felicity drifted close to him. “I don’t like this.”
He slid an arm around her, anchoring her against him. Tires ground through the small alleyway and a police cruiser rolled into the parking lot. Two officers climbed out and strolled up to him and Felicity as if they were there to pick up dry cleaning on a dull Tuesday morning.
“We received a call about a car break-in?” The older officer sidled over, pulling out a notepad.
“Someone broke into my car. The door was hanging open.”
“You didn’t leave it open by accident?”
“I drove here from the Black Heart Ranch, where I’ve been staying. I’m sure I did not.”
“She closed it.” Gabe stepped up beside her and faced down the cop.
A younger officer rounded her small SUV, inspecting the exterior. Gabe glanced at the name on his badge. Smallwood.
Let’s hope Smallwood is more personable than this guy.
“Is anything missing from your car?”
“A journal.”
They traded a look. “Someone stole your journal,” the older one said blandly, clicking his pen to jot the note.
“Not my journal,” she snapped with a flash of irritation in her eyes.
“So you didn’t pay for the journal?”
Gabe took a step forward, barely leashed. “What the hell does that matter?”
“Value assessment.” He arched a brow at Felicity.
“It has value to me.”
“How much is the journal worth, Ms. St. James?”
