The sirens shriek through the quiet of the lake as three sheriff’s cruisers flood the property with red and blue lights. I watch from the bedroom doorway as deputies swarm Clint Lansing, who’s still standing in the living room, while Reed stands nearby.
One of the police officers comes over and hauls Clint to his feet, and he stumbles. He’s shouting something, and his face is filled with fury, but I can’t hear his words over the pounding of my heart.
A deputy approaches me. “Ms. Raymond? We need to speak with you, please. If you could just come outside.”
I force my legs to move, to carry myself into the cool night air. Reed’s there immediately, hand on my lower back, and some of the stress bleeds away.
“You’re okay,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”
The lead deputy, a woman in her forties with sharp eyes, introduces herself as Deputy Porter. “Ms. Raymond, can you give us a brief statement about what happened tonight?”
I tell her about the vandalism over the past weeks, the escalating threats, how I hired Ghost Security to help get to the bottom of this, and how Reed installed cameras, and he found footage of Clint. And then how Clint lost the bid for this development.
My voice sounds steadier than I feel. In hindsight, everything makes sense—that it was Clint. Reed adds details about the surveillance footage, offering to provide all the footage taken.
“I caught him with accelerant and a crowbar,” Reed says, his voice cold and professional. “Clear intent to commit arson and breaking and entering. We have a recording of this, too.”
Deputy Porter nods, taking notes. “We’ll need to review the footage ourselves, but this sounds like there aren’t questions about the situation. We’ll need more detailed statements from both of you tomorrow. Can you come to the station around ten AM?”
“We’ll be there,” Reed confirms.
I watch as they load Clint into the back of a cruiser. He’s looking at Reed and me, his face twisted with rage. The deputy closes the door, and relief crashes over me so hard my knees buckle, and a great sob rises in me.
Reed’s arm tightens around my waist. “Easy. I’ve got you. It’s all over now.”
The cruisers pull away one by one, taillights disappearing down the access road. Then it’s just us, standing in the sudden quiet, the model home lit up behind us.
“Come inside, Maya,” Reed says, his voice gentle as he guides me inside. “You’re coming down off the adrenaline. You’re okay.”
“The back door,” I say, my voice sounding distant. “He broke it.”
“I know.” Reed guides me toward the house. “Once you feel okay, I’ll get some tools from the shed and secure it for tonight. Leo and his crew can handle it when they’re back.”
Once my heart stops racing and I don’t feel like the world is going to swallow me whole, Reed heads to the equipment shed. I lean against the doorframe, watching him move like he’s fixed doors a million times before.
“You’ve done this before,” I observe, my voice steadier now.
“Afghanistan. We reinforced a lot of doors.” He drives another screw home. “This is temporary, but it’ll keep the weather out until Leo and his crew can fix it.”
Reed finishes the last screw and tests the plywood. Solid. Secure. “That’ll hold.”
I stare at the temporary fix, at the evidence of what almost happened tonight, and suddenly I can’t stop shaking.
Reed rushes to me and places his hands on my shoulders. “Breathe. You’re safe. I promise.”
“I know.” The words come out choked. “I know, I just—if you hadn’t been here…”
“But I was here.” He pulls me against his chest, one hand in my hair, the other spread across my back. “I was here, and I stopped him, and you’re safe.”
We’re sittingon the couch, holding each other. After Reed’s confrontation with Clint, it’s finally quiet, and my heart has finally stopped beating at dangerous levels.
“Talk to me,” I say quietly. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
He’s quiet for so long that I think he won’t answer.
“I’m scared about this.” His thumb strokes across my knuckles. “You. How much I want this to work.” He turns to face me fully, and I see an unguarded fear in his eyes. “What if I can’t do this, Maya? What if I’m wired like him?”
My chest tightens. “Reed—”
