Page 87 of Serve ’N’ Protect

She arched a brow. “To say what?”

Markus swallowed. Cassidy was the only person he’d intended to say it to, but first he had to get on her mother’s good side. “That I’m in love with her.”

With excruciating slowness, Fiona’s solitary arched brow lowered, then a bright smile lit her face. “Well, why didn’t you say so? You and Ghost can come in and wait for her.”

“Thank you.” He exhaled a heavy breath as she stepped aside for him and Ghost then closed the door behind them.

“Hello, Ghost.” Fiona ran her hand along Ghost’s back, eliciting a hearty tail wag. “I’m not sure when Cassidy will be back. I always thought you two were good together. I can’t say why, but a mother knows things.”

If his mother were still alive, would she know things, too? Would she have liked Cassidy?

He followed her into the living room where she sat on a sofa next to a basket of unfolded laundry. He took the chair opposite her, next to the Christmas tree. Ghost lay down in front of the tree that still took up an entire corner of the room. “You said Cassidy was running errands. Who’s with her?”

“No one.” Again, that gray brow arched in obvious displeasure as she began folding a T-shirt. “I was downstairs doing laundry when she snuck out of the house. She left a note on the refrigerator so I wouldn’t worry.”

“How long ago was that?” Someone was trying to kill her, and she’d left the house alone? If Cassidy walked in the door just then, he didn’t know whether he’d kiss her or spank her for being so careless with her life.

“Oh, about forty minutes ago.” Fiona grabbed a pair of socks from the basket. “At first, I was really quite upset about it, but then we texted, and she assured me she was just running errands and that she needed a little space. You know,” she said, continuing to fold things, “after her car accident, we hovered over her. Too much, I realize now. Regaining her independence is important to her. Being stuck with her parents again probably isn’t what she had in mind.”

“Fiona, would you mind trying to call her again?” If he made the call from his phone, she probably wouldn’t answer.

Fiona set down a pair of jeans, saying nothing for a moment. “Should I be worried?”

Markus wanted to say no but couldn’t. Not when his mind was going crazy with worst-case scenarios. Like Cassidy lying in a ditch somewhere, a bullet hole in the back of her head.

His gut twisted like a pretzel just thinking that.

“Couldn’t hurt to check in with her,” he answered instead.

When she stood and headed for the kitchen, Markus followed. Along the way, a phone beeped.

Fiona smiled over her shoulder. “That’s probably her now.” She picked up a phone from the kitchen counter. Her smile changed to one of confusion.

“Something wrong?” Markus asked. Those hairs on the back of his neck were starting to wave back and forth.

“No.” Fiona continued to stare at the screen. “She says she’s going to stay with friends for a couple of days.”

“What friends?” He recalled Cassidy saying she had to wait until she completed her audit before resuming her social calendar.

“She didn’t say. I’m just surprised because she never mentioned this earlier.”

He went to the far side of the counter where a laptop—the one he’d bought her—sat next to a stack of documents she’d been using for her audit. “Do you believe her?” Markus asked. “That she’s really going to stay with friends?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He held out his hand. “May I look at the text?”

“I suppose so.” She gave him the phone.

Markus read the message, then read it again. Nothing in the words she’d used sent up any red flags. He scrolled up, reviewing previous messages Cassidy had sent her mother. Nothing pegged as being inconsistent or out of character.

“May I text her from your phone?” Picking up on his worried vibes, she nodded. Using some of the vocabulary Fiona had used in her previous texts, he tapped in: That’s great, honey. What friends will you be staying with?

He waited a full minute, willing a response to come through. It didn’t. He went into Fiona’s recent call list and tapped on Cassidy’s name. Her voicemail kicked in. This is Cassidy… He ended the call then did the same from his own phone. Again, This is Cassidy…

He ground his teeth. Something wasn’t right here. He could feel it from the top of his head all the way down to his boots. “What room is she staying in here?”

“Her old room. Upstairs.” Fiona pointed to the oak staircase.