He laughed. “Then let’s just walk and enjoy the quiet. Maybe I don’t get enough of that in my life either.”
But ninety minutes later when they arrived back at Rory’s place, all the peace they’d just shared was wiped away.
His hand went to the front door and stopped. “Get behind me.”
He had his gun out. “What’s going on?”
“Someone has tampered with the lock or has been here.”
He’d been setting traps around entrances. Strings that wouldn’t be noticed. A leaf under the door that wouldn’t be moved until opened. That was gone.
Even if they hadn’t noticed that, he saw the scratch marks by the lock where the key went. They weren’t there before.
“I’ll call Ford.”
“No,” he said. “Get back in your car and go.”
“Hell no,” she argued. “I’m not letting you go in there alone.”
He put the key in to unlock the door and noticed Gale had her gun in her hand. She was going to be hard to control and keep back. Maybe he didn’t want to do that either.
He used his elbow to push the lever down to open the door and pushed it with his foot.
The house was in one piece. No signs of robbery, but in the kitchen the boxes of notes were overturned, papers were scattered everywhere and torn into shreds.
There seemed to be one piece that was still intact with the words written in blue ink— “YOU WERE WARNED”—in bold messy letters. The same writing as before.
“Guess they aren’t going away,” he said.
“And now we’re calling Ford.”
He had movedthrough the rented ranch searching for what everyone was talking about.
Could there be pictures here he’d never seen before? He’d heard the rumors but never saw evidence.
He opened drawers and looked, but nothing. Not even a sketchbook someone talked about either.
After finding no computer anywhere, he lost his patience and nerve and took his frustration out on the only things he could see. The damn boxes and court papers.
If losing every damn note wasn’t enough to drive that asshole out of town, then he’d have to escalate. Drastic measures. Permanent ones, if it came to that.
He didn’t want that to happen, but he’d done it before and would again.
Risking daylight like this had his nerves strung tight with every tick of the clock cutting into his window.
He’d waited until Rory’s SUV was gone, convinced Gale must be with him and the neighbors out as well. He’d checked the street, every driveway, every car. He’d checked twice like he always did.
It’d been now or never. Even without a plan, the opening was too good to waste to not make his move.
The lock had yielded beneath his fingers from a skill honed long ago. One of many dirty tricks tucked in his back pocket toget into places he wasn’t supposed to be as a kid. To listen to conversations he was never supposed to hear and discover the truth of the lies he’d lived.
He had slipped inside silently, the woods waiting as his cover once he finished and could make a mad dash back through them to his vehicle, frustration fueling his anger that he didn’t get what he came for.
When he saw the box of notes, the rest in a neat pile on the table, he ripped them to shreds as if this action would make it all go away like it had for fifteen years.
He wasn’t about to let some arrogant ex-cop swoop in and unravel decades of careful control he’d put into place. Not over one slip. Not over one mistake.
He hadn’t meant for it to happen. He’d said he was sorry for years in the dark when no one was around. Wasn’t that enough?
