Capture Her Heart

by Catrina Maddox

  Emily worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she sat down at the table, a bad habit she would have sworn she had outgrown. She tried not to appear too obvious as she waited for Cain to join her.

  It didn't take long for Cain to come striding out to the back yard and join her at the table.

  “I didn't find the chance to thank you for taking care of my hands last night.”

  “Hmm…” Cain studied her intently. “Mad's asked if you wanted breakfast, so I ordered my usual. She said you always have the cooked, so I’ll order you that. If that's wrong, I can go change it now before she starts?”

  “No, no I'm fine. Mads has it right; I almost always order the same thing,” Emily shrugged, knowing that she should be a little mad at someone ordered without asking, but she realized Cain had done it only to give her some peace.

  “You know I could spend the next fifteen minutes poking and prodding to get out of you what's troubling you, or you could just tell me, although I have a feeling it has to do with last night.”

  “Blunt as always, Cain.” Emily smiled at him to let him see that she didn't mind.

  “I found it's the best way to be.”

  Emily blew out a breath “ I don't know where to begin. Actually, I do. Do you think Blake still has feelings for Vivian?”

  Cain sat quietly for so long. Emily began to feel twitchy.

  “Do you think that?”

  “I don't know what to think, Cain,” she wailed. “I think I stuffed up last night and let my experiences color my thinking, and that now Blake won't have anything to do with me.”

  Cain started laughing big, large belly laughing.

  “Cain,” Emily swatted him on the arm, not sure if she should be angry with him at his laughing at her dilemma.

  “Sorry. Sorry, Em, but the female mind… it's a place I just don't always understand.” He was interrupted from continuing as Madelyn brought the coffee that he had ordered out to them.

  Madelyn put the coffees on the table before giving Emily a quick squeeze on the shoulder.

  “I put some cameral in with your latte as you looked like you need a bit of a pick me up.”

  Emily smiled up at her, the small show of thoughtfulness appreciated. She usually only had the need for the extra sweetness when she had been working long hours; the pressure of last night must have shown on her face.

  “Thanks, Mads.”

  “No problems. Breakfast won't be long.”

  Emily watched Cain as Madelyn, or Mads, as everyone called her, walked back up the steps and disappeared into the cafe. Hmm… her brain went into overdrive at the expression on his face as he stared at the redhead.

  “You were saying?” Emily prompted him as she took a sip of the latte. Smooth and creamy, as the caffeine entered her veins, she almost wanted to give a scream of pleasure at the sensation of perfect coffee hitting her.

  “Ahh...” Cain looked back at her a ruthful expression coming over his handsome face.

  “The female mind.”

  “Yep,” he shook himself out of his thoughts.” Blake is crazy about you women. He certainly does not have 'feelings' for Vivian any more that she was his buddy and teammate Dereck's wife. But the way he was acting last night, you had every right to tell him to pull his head out of his ass. I told him so that morning as well.”

  “You did, did you?”

  “Hmm…” he murmured around his coffee cup.

  “You talked to him this morning?”

  “Em, Vivian is a bit fragile. She considers Blake her property, and till now, that hasn't been a problem. It’s time he started getting her to see this.”

  The fact that Cain was repeating all that she had thought last night gave her a sense of comfort that standing up for herself wasn't wrong. She wanted it to work with Blake, but she was sick of trying to be something she was not. With men, she wasn't going to settle for second best.

  “I'm not willing to settle for second best, Cain.” Emily found herself saying her thought out loud.

  “You shouldn't have to, Em. I've known you for a number of years now, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, during that time, I've seen you pick the wrong guy for you a number of times. You don't give yourself enough credit, Em. I think you’re great for Blake.”

  “I don't?”

  “Don't look so shocked. It’s not like I'm going to tell you how to live your life, but you asked, so I'm going to give my opinion. I appreciate what its like to have everyone tell you what you should do.”

  Again, Cain was interrupted by the arrival of the cafe's waitress with their brunch, both of them tucking into the warm succulent food.

  “Is that why you stopped being a doctor?”

  “Hmm… I wondered when you would start to quiz me on that. How about we stick to you this morning?”

  “Don't think you’re getting out of it that easily, Cain. Artist to doctor is quite a change.”

  “Army doctor to artist, thank you very much.” Cain waived a bite of his pancakes in front of her.

  “So, you think I should ask him to dinner tonight?”

  “Couldn't hurt, especially if you bake him dessert. I'd suck up my pride for some of your key lime pie.” Emily laughed at the hang dog expression on his face. The man had such a sweet tooth.

  “It has been a while since I made one. How about I make you one tomorrow in exchange for some rose quartz glaze you have?”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Em. Deal. I'll call you tomorrow to pick up my spoils,” Cain rubbed his hands together.

  That afternoon, Emily was still digesting her conversation with Cain while she wandered around the supermarket getting groceries. She looked down at herself in her cut off shorts, T-shirt, and sandals. Nothing to write home about, she thought, but maybe she didn't give herself enough credit, like Cain said. Blake had made her feel things she hadn't felt before. In such a short time, he'd come to mean so much to hermore than any of her previous boyfriends in the years she'd dated them. He appeared genuinely interested in her art and enjoyed the same things she did. For a man who spent most of his working day in business, he was a creative soul. She realized she was contemplating building a future with Blake. The thought sent a shiver down her spine that she couldn't blame on the milk chiller she was standing in front of. But what if he was a wrong choice in a line of bad choices in men, no one tendered to put her first. Would he always put other people in front of her?

  Ahh... Why couldn't she enjoy what she had, right? Just do it. Might be a chicken move, but still.

  Emily pulled her phone from her back pocket, set her grocery basket on the ground, and texted Blake.

  “Want to come around for dinner tonight?” She hit send on her phone. There, done. Now the ball was in his court. She picked up her basket and determinedly set about getting her groceries.

  Beep. She pulled up her phone, the text notification making her jump a little.

  “I'm glad you asked what time.” Emily fumbled with the phone as she looked at her watch, thinking would take her another hour to finish these chores and back to Glen Point at least. She made a quick calculation on how long it would take her to change and complete the baking she'd promised. She really wanted to get her hands on some more of that rose quartz glaze that Cain held onto. If only he would give up where he purchased the glaze.

  “I should be home about 5.00pm. If you want to come around any time after that, we can put some steak on the BBQ.”

  “Sounds great.” His reply came almost instantly after she had sent hers. He must have been waiting for her response. A pleasant feeling ensured.

  Emily raced around the supermarket making sure she got a couple of top-notch steaks and BBQ fixings, as well as all the ingredients for Cain's key lime pie. She thought she would make two of them. She thought of the saying her uncle often saida way to a man’s heart is through the stomach. Particularly when he wanted some of her baking. Her emotions in check, she raced for her car.

  Emily acte
d like a mule and loaded herself up with the grocery bags as she struggled up the sidewalk to the house. It hadn't taken as long as she thought. She was keen to start the baking as she unloaded all the groceries and stacked them away. She made sure to leave the baking ingredients out. Kicking off her sandals, it didn't take her long to whip up the pies. Satisfaction at getting them into the oven in perfect condition settled through her, there was just time to nip out and grab her sketchbook while she waited for them to cook. She turned the kettle on as she nipped out the French doors she'd opened earlier to cross over the studio.

  Enjoying the sunshine and the prospect of Blake turning up, she didn't notice the broken glass until she stood right in it, The pane of glass cut the soul of her foot and she started hopping around on the porch.

  Looking down, she noticed a small amount of glass. Glancing up, she saw one of the panes of glass in the main door to the studio. It had been smashed out, with most of the glass inside the studio, but some pieces had fallen outside. It was these that she had stood on.

  Why would someone want to break into the studio? Emily walked around the glass on the ground to the door. She reached out. The door was latched but unlocked. She knew she'd locked it before leaving. Damn, I shouldn't have touched the door. Emily reached for her back pocket and her cellphone. Damn, she remembered taking it out of her pocket to use the timing function, and that's where it rested on the kitchen bench. She wanted to know what state the studio was in. Egg foo, I've come this far. Better to know before wasting the Police's time by having them come all the way out here. Emily checked for any noise within the studioonly quiet met her ears. She'd been home for quite a while, so she was sure that whoever broke in was long gone. She pushed the door open, careful of the glass all over the floor. She looked around the studio. It had been ransacked. Things were out of place and on the floor; it looked like someone had been looking for something. There was a pattern to the destruction, which Emily found odd. the stereo, kettle, and her computer were all where she'd left them. Ha, not a bugler then. She couldn't think why any theft would leave those things alone. Moving further into the room, she saw her collection of current sketch pads spread across the sofa. Above the sofa was one of the images she'd drawn of Blakea knife from the kitchen, which had been used to stick the sketch to the wall. Her heart rate started to beat out of control. She screamed as one of the books teetering on the edge of the table fell to the floor.

  Lifting her hand to her mouth, she read the note above the picture. They'd taken a pale pink pastel and written, “It's mine!” above the ripped out page from the scrapbook.

  Emily bolted for the door, her heart beating hard as she rushed to the kitchen to look for her cellphone. She needed to talk to Blake. This was weird.

  The sound of footsteps on the porch behind her caused her to whirl around in time to see Blake step through the open French doors.

  “Emily?” Blake rushed to her side. “What's the matter? You’re as white as a ghost.”

  16

  “Someone's broken into the studio! You gave me a fright. I thought they had returned,” Emily said, visibily shaken.

  Blake pulled her into his arms. “What do you mean someone broke into the studio?”

  “I was just about to call the police when you came in. Let me show you.” Emily broke out of his arms, wanting him to view the message. She moved on auto-pilot to the French doors.

  “Emily, you're bleeding! There's blood all over the floor.”

  “What? Oh, yeah. I cut my foot on the broken glass outside. It’s nothing.”

  “It's not nothing. Let me look.” Blake walked over to her, making her put her foot in his hand as he bent down to look at it.

  “Emily, the glass is still in your foot. Come, sit down and I'll take care of it. Why don't you call the police while I get the first aid kit.”

  “But I want to show you the message they left in the studio!”

  “Emily, it can wait. You’re more important, plus it’s better if we leave as much of the studio undisturbed for the police.”

  “Okay,” Emily said aloud.

  She subsided meekly into the dining room chair as he went down the hallway for the first aid kit.

  She took the time to reach for her cellphone and make the call to the local police station.

  “This seems to be a regular occurrence with you,” Blake stated as he knelt down in from of her, his hand gently moving her foot so that he could find the glass.

  “This might sting a bit as I take the glass out.” Blake picked up a pair of tweezers and extracted the glass from her foot.

  Emily bit down on her lip. She couldn't help the sound of pain that made its way past her lips. It stung more than a little.

  “Come on, just a little more. I need to put some disinfectant in here as well.”

  Emily let out a yelp at the pain the disinfectant caused. He hadn't given her any time to brace before he had wiped it over the cut, cleaning the blood off her foot at the same time.

  “All done. It wasn't as deep a cut as I thought, so no stitches were needed. What did the police say?”

  “They’re sending someone out to take a look.”

  “Let's wait until they turn up before we go looking through the studio, okay?”

  “Sounds like we won't have to wait long...”

  Emily looked up. The sight of an officer followed by a plainclothes officer arriving at the open French doors greeted her.

  “Emily Sutherland?”

  “Yes, that's me.”

  “That was quick, gentleman? I didn't expect a Detective like yourself, Jackson, to attend a simple burglary.” Blake had walked up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders.

  “Blake. What are you doing here?” The plainclothes police officer seemed surprised to find Blake there.

  “Emily is my girlfriend. I arrived just as she realized the studio had been broken into”

  “Ahh... I was already in the neighborhood, so we took the call. Sometimes we have to pitch in with the thin blue line” Jackson reached out to shake Blake’s hand as he introduced his colleague, a young constable.

  “So, Emily. You want to show us what you found?”

  “Yeah, let me find some shoes to put on. I cut myself on the glass before I realized something wasn't right.”

  She showed Jackson and the young police officer around to the studio, mumbling out the side of her mouth, “Psst. How do you know, Jackson?”

  “He used to be in the army.”

  “God. How many of them are you?”

  “More than you think.” Emily blushed as Jackson turned to give her a wink. She was obviously not as quiet as she thought.

  “I found the door like this, sorry, but I entered the studio. I wanted to find out what had happened.”

  “Wow, someone made a right mess in here.” Blake looked around the side of the room.

  “Yeah, but they didn't take anything. My computer and stereo are all still here, but it was this note that I found the most unusual.”

  Emily led the men into the larger room and showed them the message on the wall.

  “Is that... Yep, it is.” Jackson pulled back after taking a look at the sketch attached to the wall. Giving Blake a quick grin, the young constable blushed.

  “Are you an artist, Miss Sutherland?”

  “She is quite a famous artist. Is any artwork missing, Em?”

  “Hmm… I didn't look. Why?”

  “Well, anything of yours would be worth quite a bit on the black market.”

  “Really” Jackson turned to look Emily up and down.

  “Do you know what this “It” is? Anyone who has a problem with you?”

  “No, that's what's so weird about this. Not many people know that I live here for a start, let alone have a beef with me.”

  “Did you touch the knife?”

  “No.”

  “Great, we'll take this in for fingerprints, but at the moment this will be treated as a burglary. I'm sorry, Blake
.” Jackson held his hand up as he saw Blake was about to interrupt him. “But there is no direct threat being made here. It could well be kids fooling around with this.”

  “Why would you say that?” Emily was curious.

  “Well, the doors had scrapes, like someone tried to break the lock and then smash it, amateur hour-style. So, whoever did this is not someone who does this for a living.”

  Jackson and the young police officer filled in the paperwork for her insurance company while asking more questions. Blake appeared to be getting more impatient throughout the whole thing. It was clear that he wanted to say more, but his hands were tied.

  Emily showed them out while Blake boarded up the broke panel in the door, locking the studio up as tight as it could be.

  “Do you want something to drink?” Emily found herself standing in the kitchen in front of the fridge, unsure of what to do next.

  “Sugar, I think it's been a long day. Why don't we get some takeaway on the way back to my place?”

  “Your place?”

  “We need to talk, and I'll feel better if you’re safe with me and not in this house tonight. If you want, you can stay in the spare room?”

  Emily didn't want to stay here, so the offer of a bed suited her.

  “Thanks, that would be great. Let me find a bag with some things for tonight.”

  “Well, that was easy. You must not be feeling very well, sugar.”

  “Sometimes I can see what's in my best interests.” Emily winked at him as she went down the hallway.

  “You won't know it by me,” Blake muttered so that she couldn't hear.

  Blake stopped at the Thai takeaway by his apartment. The smells of coriander and lemongrass teased her stomach as the entered his entry hall. The events from the afternoon made her sleepy. After some good food and sleep, the day would look much better.