Ric nudged the side of her face with his nose, breaking her from her thoughts. She laughed and reached up to ruffle his fur. “Hello, cutie.”
“He knows you’re upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
Mason lifted an eyebrow at her. “Ric’s never wrong about that. And you don’t need to hide anything from us.”
It made her feel bad, especially after the way he’d opened up to her earlier. She flushed and mumbled some excuse, torn between pulling her hand free and never wanting to let go. Mason had a lot more depth than she’d ever dreamed, and that made him so much harder to resist.
“Thank you for bringing me,” she said as they reached her neighborhood. “I’m sorry about your Jeep.”
“I’m glad you came. And it’s all right, I’ll take some pictures, file a report, then get it fixed up.”
“Tate’s neighbor does body and paint work if you—” She broke off, a gasp tearing from her when she saw the patrol car in her driveway and the front windows of her house all broken. “What the hell?”
Mason grabbed her arm before she could jump out of the Jeep. “Stay here.”
Like hell. “I’m not staying—”
He slammed his door and was already rounding the front of the Jeep. She jumped out and hurried after him, taking in the damage.
All four of the front windows were smashed. Two were missing their upper halves entirely, and the other two had holes punched in them, fractures radiating out like spider webs.
“Avery, hey,” the patrol officer said.
“Hi, Bill. What the hell happened?”
“Your neighbor heard glass breaking and saw a car take off up the street. She—”
“Avery!”
She turned to find Pat hurrying across the street toward them, gray curls bouncing, a piece of paper in one hand and a basket in the other. Her quiet sister Bev stood by their garden gate in front of the blue and purple Victorian house, holding a rake in front of her like a weapon, as if she expected the vandal to come back at any moment and was prepared to do battle to protect the neighborhood.
Avery turned her attention back to the eldest sister. “Pat. Did you see what happened?”
“Yes, dear. It happened about fifteen minutes ago. I called you straight away and left a message.”
Avery pulled her phone out. Sure enough, there was a voicemail. Damn. “I was in an area with no service when you called.”
Pat stopped in front of her, gray curls bouncing, eyes alight with indignation and concern. “I first noticed someone stop in front of your house earlier today as well when we were out in the front garden. The car slowed down and the driver appeared to be looking at your house. I didn’t recognize the car, so I watched, and the driver kept going. But then fifteen minutes ago I heard the glass break and ran to the front window in time to see someone in a dark hoodie-thing throw something through your last window.”
Avery set her jaw. “You didn’t happen to notice the make and model of the car, or a plate number, did you?”
Pat lifted her chin, her gaze sharp. “Of course I did. But I only got the first part, because it took me a few seconds to find my glasses to see properly. And I wrote the one from this morning down too.” She handed Avery a piece of paper with the numbers on it.
This was one of the benefits of having nosy, elderly neighbors who noticed everything. “Thanks, Pat. This is fantastic.”
“You’re welcome.” She looked at the house and shook her head. “I’m only sorry it happened at all.”
“At least now with your information we might be able to find out who it was.”
“I hope you will. Do keep us in the loop, dear. Oh, and this is for you and your new tenant.” Her eyes gleamed with interest as she glanced at Mason, still standing on the front lawn surveying the damage. “From us.”
From her sister Bev, she meant. The resident baker. Avery took the basket with a smile. God, she loved her quirky sister neighbors. “Thank you.”
“Want me to run those plates?” the patrol officer asked her as Pat walked back across the road to her sister.
“I’ll handle it.”
“Okay. Then I’ll check the backyard, make sure no one’s hiding out back there.”
“Sure.” A hot ball of tension gathered in the pit of her stomach. She walked around the house to look for more damage, but didn’t see any. When she headed for the front door, Mason was there to stop her. “Let me go in first.”
She glared and opened her mouth to blast him.
“Please. I need to make sure you’re safe.”
The annoyance drained away, the sincerity in his eyes reaching into her chest with invisible fingers to squeeze her heart gently. “I’m a cop, in case you’ve forgotten. And this is my house. I go first.” She stepped past him.
Mason followed, none too happy but not arguing. The change in him as they entered the house was stark and fascinating to witness. His expression was set, the look in his eyes and his posture all shifting into operator mode as he drew the pistol from the holster at the base of his spine and opened the front door to make sure it was safe.
Avery wished she had her weapon too, every sense on alert. “I’ll check upstairs. You check down.”
The front windows appeared to be the only damage to the upstairs as she walked through to her bedroom and grabbed her service weapon. Moving fast, she hurried back to the kitchen and the stairs leading into the suite, her body tense, leg muscles coiled and ready to spring if Mason was in any kind of danger.
He’d flipped on the light, revealing the changes he’d made since moving in. It was tidy. The living room walls were studded with various swords and other bladed weapons, all arranged neatly on their mounts. Some he’d told her he’d made himself.
He’d set out a few framed photos on the table and mantel as well. She noticed one of him and some buddies standing armed in full combat gear, and one of him and a gray-haired woman who she guessed must be his foster mom.
Upon initial inspection the suite didn’t appear to have suffered any damage, and he confirmed it when he finished his sweep and came back a minute later. “It’s clear.” He holstered his weapon and she did the same. “Wanna head back up?”
“Yes.” She spun and jogged back up the stairs to confront the damage to her living room as she filed the report with Bill, then called Tate. In the meantime, Avery took pictures of everything and made voice notes on her phone.
Tate arrived several minutes later, his face grim as he took it all in. She worked with him on looking for more evidence, then he left to go talk to her neighbors.
Avery paused to crouch down next to one of the four bricks the vandal had used to bust the windows lying on the hardwood floor. This one had a small piece of paper tied around it.
Avery put on the latex gloves the officer gave her and untied the paper, aware of Mason standing at her shoulder. A handwritten note in red ink covered the page.
You ruined everything. Now I’m going to ruin you.
If she’d been upset before, now she was shaken. Someone was out to get her. Someone who had violated the sanctuary of Avery’s home.
Trevor, or one of his friends? Ray? Mr. Zinke? Someone else?
She handed over the note and bricks as evidence, then saw the officer out. Shutting the door, she confronted the mess in her living room, exhaustion and a trickle of fear running through her.