“It’s okay,” Ashlyn said without hesitation. “Why don’t I go to the bank now? I’ll pick up lunch on the way home and we can spend the rest of the day hanging out.”
Slate frowned. “I don’t like the idea of you driving around with all that money.”
Ashlyn rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine, Slate. I’m going to go straight to the bank, open an account, and that’ll be that. I won’t advertise the fact that I’m carrying a shit ton of money. No one’s gonna know.”
He only frowned harder.
“Seriously, talk to your commander. I’ll probably be back before you’re done. I’ll even stop and get Hawaiian for your lunch,” she cajoled.
“You being able to sweet-talk me doesn’t bode well for this relationship,” he semi-growled.
Ashlyn giggled. “Actually, I think it says great things for this relationship.” She leaned in and kissed him briefly. “Love you,” she said softly.
“And I love you,” he said, apparently not caring that his commander might be able to overhear. “Be careful—and don’t get Hawaiian. You don’t like it, so that means you’d have to make two stops to get yourself something too.”
“It’s not a big deal,” she said.
“Babe. I have two more days off, and I want to spend as much of that time with you as possible. Bank, lunch, then get your ass back here so we can relax.”
He was being bossy again, but since he was also being sweet about wanting to spend time with her, she couldn’t complain. “Okay, Slate.”
“Okay.”
Ashlyn felt his eyes on her as he brought his phone back up to his ear. “I’m back, Sir.”
He kept watching her as she slipped her feet into a pair of flip-flops and grabbed her purse, sunglasses, and the two manila envelopes they’d put James’s money into after they’d counted it and bundled it into neat stacks. She took a moment to admire Slate while he was distracted speaking to his boss.
He had on a pair of jeans, which molded to his muscular thighs. He was wearing a Helena’s Bakery T-shirt, his hair mussed, and his bare feet peeking out beneath the hem of his pants. All in all, her man was crazy hot. It didn’t matter if he was in his uniform, a pair of jeans like today, gray sweats, or butt-ass naked, he was a fine specimen of a man.
“Be back soon!” she mouthed as she headed for the door.
“Be safe,” Slate mouthed back.
Nodding, Ashlyn opened the door and headed out to her car.
As she drove to the bank, she glanced at the manila envelopes. James had been right, he had twenty thousand, two hundred dollars hidden around his house. It wasn’t a ton of money for someone his age, but he seemed content with his lifestyle.
The visit to the bank went smoothly. She opened a new account, making a mental note to add James’s name to it at some point. The clerk behind the counter didn’t seem fazed about depositing over two hundred one-hundred dollar bills. She did check a few to make sure they weren’t counterfeit, but once assured they were real, she quickly completed the transaction and handed over a receipt.
Feeling much better now that the money was safe, Ashlyn left the bank, relieved to no longer be carrying around that much cash.
As she got into her car, she thought about her promise to call and check on James and figured now was as good a time as any. She had a feeling she and Slate would be preoccupied later, and she wanted to make sure she didn’t forget to check on her friend.
She dialed James’s number and waited for him to answer. He didn’t. The phone rang five times and went to voice mail. Ashlyn didn’t bother leaving a message. James had admitted once that he had no idea how to access the message system on his landline and wasn’t able to check them anyway.
She called back, only for the phone to go unanswered once more. A little worried now, Ashlyn called again, and then one more time. The phone only rang and rang.
She frowned, visions of all sorts of horrible things flew through her brain. James lying on the floor after having fallen, unable to get up. James becoming sick and unable to get out of bed. Living alone, and being so frail, there were so many things that could happen.
Ashlyn made the split-second decision to pop by his house just to check on him.
She quickly clicked on Slate’s name and typed out a text.
Ashlyn: Money’s deposited. Since you’re probably still on the phone, I’m gonna stop by James’s house real quick. He was kind of off yesterday, and I want to make sure he’s good. I’ll still get lunch on my way home. Love you.
She was probably overthinking the situation. James was likely sitting outside, enjoying the morning, and hadn’t heard his phone ring. She’d swing by, they’d laugh at her paranoia, then she’d get lunch and head back to Slate’s house.
If something was wrong, she’d get help for James, then call Slate. There was no use worrying him yet over probably nothing.
Her mind made up, and not surprised Slate hadn’t immediately responded to her text, Ashlyn started her car and headed for James’s house.
She got there in about ten minutes, the traffic being lighter since it was a Saturday. There were no cars parked at his house, which wasn’t a surprise. Grabbing her phone, Ashlyn slipped out of her RAV4 and headed up to his front door. She knocked, but wasn’t surprised when James didn’t answer. She tried the knob. It was locked.
Biting her lip, Ashlyn took a deep breath and headed around to the side of the house. She’d see if James was in the backyard, scold him for scaring her, they’d share a laugh, and she’d head out.
But before she could get to the backyard, the kitchen door caught her attention. It was at the side of the house, and while the screen door was shut, the inner door was not. It was unusual enough to stop Ashlyn in her tracks.
James never used this door, partly because there were two steps that led down to a sidewalk that definitely needed some repair work. Since he wasn’t quite steady on his feet, he always preferred to enter and exit through his front door, where there weren’t any stairs and the sidewalk wasn’t cracked and uneven.
So why was the kitchen door open? Had he gotten hurt and tried to go outside to get some help, and hadn’t made it? Her heart beating a million miles an hour, Ashlyn didn’t hesitate to go up the two steps and open the screen door.
When she stepped inside James’s kitchen, she stared around in disbelief at the mess that greeted her.
It looked like every cabinet had been opened and emptied. There were containers and dishes everywhere. Even the pantry had been ransacked. There was flour and sugar all over the floor, their containers lying on their sides on top of the mess.
“James?” she called out, then mentally smacked her head in exasperation. It was stupid to call attention to herself when it was obvious the house had been burglarized—and she had no idea if the perpetrator was still in the house or not. She needed to call the police. But she couldn’t leave without checking on James first.
She stepped over the worst of the mess and looked into the living room.
To her surprise, it wasn’t James who came out of one of the bedrooms.
It was Aiden.
Their eyes met…and Ashlyn knew instinctively that she’d messed up big time. As soon as she saw the mess in the kitchen, she should’ve backed out of the house and called the police. It was too late now.