TWENTY-NINE
BRADTOOK THE DRIVE UPto Natalie’s house far faster than was prudent, gravel pinging against the underside of the cruiser.
But cars were replaceable.
People weren’t.
He skidded to a stop on the circle drive behind Cara’s Accord, set the brake, and vaulted from the car.
As he strode up the walk and ascended the steps to the galérie, he scanned the property. All appeared quiet.
Didn’t mean a thing.
Sometimes the quietest moments held the deepest danger.
He rang the bell, trying to curb his impatience as he waited for Natalie to answer.
At last the muffled sound of a sliding bolt broke the silence. Seconds later she opened the door. “Sorry to keep you waiting. It seems I move slower every day.”
“Is Steven back?”
“No. Would you like to come in and wait?”
“Yes, but I want to swing by the cottage first. Give me a few minutes.”
“Don’t rush on my account. Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“If it’s not too much trouble.” Wired as he was, he didn’t need the caffeine. But juggling a mug would keep his hands occupied.
“It’s no trouble. Do you want to cut through the house?”
“No. I’ll circle around from the outside.”
“I’ll unlock the back door for you. Come in through there after you finish.”
He acknowledged her comment with a dip of his head, then descended the steps and took off at a jog around the house, scrutinizing the cottage at the back of the yard after it came into view.
Nothing appeared to be amiss.
Hopefully, his worry was for naught. Cara would be hard at work on her laptop or engrossed in one of the books she’d borrowed from the study in the main house.
At her door, he gave a soft knock.
No response.
He tried again, rapping harder. With her hearing issues, it was possible she hadn’t heard his first attempt.
Still nothing.
He frowned.
Could she have turned off her implants?
He crossed to the window, cupped his hands around his face, and peered in.
The cottage was empty.
A tingle of alarm raced through him.
