This wouldn’t have happened in Atlanta. But she was so thankful for these small-town dynamics right now.
“I can help,” Max said.
Hadley looked between them. “That’s so kind of both of you, but you don’t have to do that.”
“Of course we do.” Max held her gaze. “This is Blue Ridge Hollow. We help each other out here.”
A smile tugged at her lips. “I knew I’d come to the right place.”
“I do need you to check to make sure nothing is missing from the clinic,” Micah said. “Especially medications.”
“They’re all locked up. But I’ll check.”
Max turned toward Micah. “I’d also like to check out her apartment. I want to make sure nothing else was touched.”
“You do that.” Micah fished his keys from his pocket. “I’ll go grab the wood. Be back in twenty.”
Hadley hadn’t considered the possibility that whoever had broken the window might have done more. A chill swept over her at the thought.
Why did she have a feeling this wasn’t done yet?
Max walked with Hadley as she checked out her clinic. Nothing appeared to be missing.
Then he checked out Hadley’s apartment—behind doors, under the bed, anywhere a person could hide.
It was clear.
When he finished, he paused in her living room. She offered him a glass of water.
As she got it, he looked at the place—really looked at it instead of searching for danger.
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected it to look like.
The place wasn’t large. The main room held a comfortable-looking orange couch and a navy blue armchair. A small dining table was pushed against the wall, and a kitchen opened up without a barrier.
Everything felt functional and efficient. But the details scattered throughout the space told a different story.
A handmade quilt was folded over the back of the couch in colors too warm and specific to be accidental. A stack of veterinary journals sat on the coffee table with certain pages turned down. And herbs grew in small pots along the kitchen windowsill.
Boxes were stacked along the far wall, not unpacked yet.
His gaze traveled to the shelf beside the fireplace in the living room.
Photos were displayed there.
He didn’t mean to look as closely as he did. But the Hadley in those photos was recognizable but different. She was more polished. And maybe more guarded. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact difference.
In one, she stood with a group of people outside what looked like a restaurant, dressed for a night out. In another she wore a bright blue coat with a city skyline behind her.
Max looked away as Hadley handed him a glass. “Were you in Atlanta a long time?”
Hadley wrapped her hands around her own glass of water. “I grew up just outside the city. Then I went to vet school there and joined a practice after graduation.”
“I’m sure coming here was a big change.”
“It didn’t feel big at the time. It felt . . . necessary, I suppose.” She set her glass down. “That probably sounds strange. But sometimes you just need some upheaval in your life to turn things around.”
“That actually makes perfect sense.”
