by Nora Roberts
“Okay, honey. Did you notice anything missing?”
“A Coke. And I know how that sounds, but I know I had four in the fridge, but there were only three.”
“There’s one in your pocket,” he pointed out.
“That’s one of the three.” Taking it out, she twisted the cap off, twisted it on to keep her hands busy. “Lee, when I go below four, it goes right on my shopping list. It’s habit. I brushed that off, too. I just shrugged it off, but upstairs…”
Shoving the bottle back in her pocket, she let out a breath. “I’ll show you.”
As they started upstairs, she continued, “I wanted a bandanna for my hair before I started priming the walls because I didn’t want to get paint on the logo cap. But when I opened the drawer…”
She gestured to the one she’d left open. “Here’s the thing. I keep underwear, socks and bandannas in the top drawer.”
He walked over, looked in the drawer. “That’s what I’m seeing.”
“I have eight pair of underwear, eight sports bras, two dress bras—one black, one white—eight pair of work socks, eight pair of regular socks, eight bandannas. I’m a laundry-once-a-week type, and keep the spares for when I miss laundry day. I have one of everything in my truck, in case. I keep two of everything at Zane’s. Well, not the dress bras because I hardly use them.”
“Okay, I’m following you.”
“I’m wearing underwear, a sports bra, work socks. That means there should be four of those items in the drawer. Nothing’s in the hamper but today’s work pants and tee—I haven’t been here for a couple days, except to run in and out. There are only three pair of underwear, and what’s there isn’t folded right.”
He nodded, looked at her. “Anything else?”
“In the closet. Everything’s there, but things have been shifted around some, like somebody was going through it. I have a box on the shelf in there. Some of my mother’s things. Nothing valuable, just keepsakes, I guess. Like her reading glasses, her work gloves, this bead necklace I made her when I was about twelve, sympathy cards people sent me. It’s all there, but someone’s been through it.”
And God, God, that upset her more than anything else. Her mom’s things touched by a stranger.
“Do you keep any cash in the house?”
“What? Sorry, yes. I keep two hundred in fives, tens, and twenties in the drawer of that table by the bed. It’s down to a hundred. Why would they leave a hundred, why not take it all?”
“Hoping you wouldn’t notice, I’d say.”
Relief spilled through her. He believed her.
“They went through the medicine cabinet. It’s just over-the-counter stuff, but it’s shifted around again.”
“Did you have the place locked up?”
“I did. That’s habit, too. I came in the back, through the kitchen. I used my key.”
“When’s the last time you were here?”
“I didn’t get here at all yesterday, but the day before I was here for a while after work. Just a quick in and out. I wanted another sheet of plywood for the beanbag games we’re doing at Zane’s, and I had this bird feeder I picked up and wanted to use on a job—so I came in for that. I’d have noticed, I think I’d have noticed if things had been out of place.”
“All right. I’m going to take a look at your doors, your windows.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
She went down with him, peered around him when he opened her front door, studied it. “See these little scratches?”
“Now I do. Someone picked the lock?”
“I’d say a credit card would do it. It’s not much of a lock.”
“Crap, crap, crap! I’ll get better ones. A hundred bucks and a pair of panties? I’ve got tools right over there worth more than a hundred, and the little TV in the kitchen? You could walk out with that under one arm.”
“Might be kids.”
She felt another wave of relief, quickly gone. “You don’t think so. Kids would’ve taken all the money, and wouldn’t have been so careful.”
Lee let that ride. “I’m going to take a good look around outside. And we’ll see if I can get any prints off this door, some of the other surfaces. Were you planning to stay here tonight?”
“Not anymore. I think I’ll paint the bathroom another time.”
“We’re going to do regular drive-bys for the next day or two. And I’ll have my ear to the ground.”
* * *
No prints, Darby thought later as she drove through the rain. None at all on the door handles, the drawers rifled through. She didn’t need Lee to tell her the intruder had likely worn gloves, and gone the extra step of wiping surfaces down.
Awfully careful for someone who only took a hundred dollars and a pair of panties. And awfully creepy.
She couldn’t dig down for real anger, or even genuine fear. What she felt was sharp disappointment that the community she’d embraced so wholeheartedly held someone who’d violate her home, her privacy.
For nothing.
She circled the lake, slate gray and gloomy behind the curtain of rain. The thick sky smothered the mountains, dulled all the color.
It suited her mood.
She told herself not to be naive. Every community had its bad side, its sad side, its ugly little secrets. After all, Lakeview, for all its easy southern charm, had once harbored a pair of horrific abusers.
Undercurrents, she reminded herself.
And still, one creepy break-in couldn’t and wouldn’t overpower all the rest it offered.
She reminded herself to be grateful she had a safe haven in Zane’s house, she had friends, people she trusted.
When she turned up Zane’s road, she felt a trickle of optimism slip back inside. The lights on the terrace walls glowed against that heavy gloom, shined warm through it. The accent lights she’d placed to showcase the water feature glimmered quiet and steady.
Whatever lurked under the surface, she’d handle it. And she’d keep building.
More settled, she took off her boots on the covered veranda, unlocked the door, reset the alarm. After carting her boots back to the mudroom, stripping off the hoodie, she got down to the serious business of pouring herself a glass of wine.
Then in the quiet, empty house, sat at the counter with her laptop to look up local locksmiths. And though the optimist in her hated to do it, the practical woman took a look at security systems.
The pelting rain masked the sound of Zane driving up, and she didn’t hear the door open and close, so she jolted when she heard footsteps, swiveled around to jump off the stool.
“Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.” Slapping a hand on her heart, she settled back down. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I live here.”
“Yeah, and you’re supposed to have dinner with Micah and Dave tonight.”
He walked to her, skimmed a hand over her hair, kissed her. “And you’re supposed to be painting your fish room. Plans changed.” Sliding his hands down to her shoulders, he rubbed gently. “Are you okay?”
“I take it word got back to you about the panty thief.”
Now those hands on her shoulders gave her a little shake. “There’s no point pretending you’re not upset.”
“Of course I am. Nobody likes to imagine somebody invading their home and messing around with their things. But that’s what happened, and taking the classic step of closing the barn door after, I’m calling a locksmith in the morning, and I’ll look into a security system.”
She patted the hand still on her shoulder in hopes of dimming the angry light in his eyes. “You didn’t have to change your plans.”
“Yeah, I did. And I have to wonder why you’d think I’d sit around tossing back a beer and some wings after you had a break-in.” Now he cupped her face, firmly. “Don’t do that.”
“I don’t want to be one of those needy women.”
He let out a half laugh, walked over to get a glass to join her with the wine. “You’re the lea
st needy person I know. In fact, you could use a little needy in there.”
“The needy’s why I ended up with Trent.”
He sat, considered her. “Is that what you think?”
“It’s what I know. My father leaves me and my mother, and I want—need—someone to love me, a guy who’ll stand by me, stick with me. Thick and thin. He saw that, played on that, and, well, it didn’t work out very well for me. Maybe I’ve overcompensated,” she admitted. “I’m working on finding the balance.”
“Wanting someone to love you, stand, and stick isn’t needy, darlin’, it’s human. I’m here right now, standing by you.”
“I know it.” She did know it, and it made the back of her throat ache. “And under all the I’m fine, no big deal, I’m really glad you are. I mean, what kind of perv steals plain cotton underwear? They’re not even sexy.”
“They are when you wear them. So just that and half your house cash?”
“Panties, a hundred bucks, and a bottle of Coke. What I figure is most people wouldn’t have noticed any of it. Even the cash you might dismiss as being forgetful, you know? It’s creepy, and disturbing, but basically harmless. Mostly I’m pissed because I didn’t feel comfortable staying there tonight and getting that bathroom painted.”
“We’ll paint it tomorrow after work.”
“Tomorrow’s the third. We should spend it in party prep.”
“That bathroom has about ten square feet of wall space. How long could it take? After, we can prep our asses off.”
He settled her down, she realized, when she hadn’t really understood she’d needed to settle down.
“We could start now, working on your list. Like did you rent the extra tables and chairs?”
The sulky came back to his face. She thought it was adorable.
“I bought the damn tables and chairs. Micah and I are picking them up tomorrow. We’re having pizza,” he decided and rose to switch on the oven.
“You bought them?”
“Don’t play innocent with a lawyer. We know. You and the other women decided this bash would be an annual event, so I bought the tables, the chairs, which I’ll now have to haul in and out of the storage room every year.”
He poured more wine. “Along with the ridiculous red, white, and blue tablecloths Britt demanded, with coordinating plates, napkins, cups, flatware, and some dumbass serving pieces. And the stupid lights, lanterns, and God-all, including arranging for half a million hamburger patties, hot dogs, buns, gallons of beer, wine, soft drinks, and the gargantuan Hefty bags we’ll need to haul all the debris away when it’s over.”
She sipped her wine, smiled when he got the pizza out of the freezer. “You didn’t shop for all that.”
“Shopped for some, paid for all.”
“Grumpy.”
“One moment of weakness, and I’m throwing a crazy-ass party every Fourth for the rest of my life.”
“It’s probably not a good time to mention you’re going to want to throw a crazy-ass party around Christmas every year.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Who says I want to do something like that?”
She rose, wrapped her arms around him.
“That won’t soften me up.”
“It’s not for that—I have other ways to soften you up. It’s for being here when I didn’t want to need you being here.”
“Get used to it,” he replied, and brushed his lips over her hair. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re not going to think about panty-stealing perverts or crazy-ass parties. We’re going to eat pizza, drink wine, then put a bag of popcorn in the mike, drink more wine, watch a movie. Then we’re going to have some wild sex.”
“What kind of wild sex? Our definitions may vary.”
“We’ll find out.”
* * *
But he did think about perverts and just how isolated and vulnerable her house was. Zane thought about it enough to leave shortly after Darby in the morning to drive over and catch Lee at home.
“You after breakfast?” Lee asked him. “I sweet-talked Emily into making French toast.”
“Nobody turns down Em’s French toast,” he said, and kissed her cheek.
“Then you’re in luck.” She returned the kiss before he bent down to give Rufus a full-body rub. “Gabe’s already gone, and Brody’s still in bed. You’re up early.”
“It’s getting to be a habit. Darby’s up at dawn.” At home, he poured coffee, got out another plate, then sat with Lee.
“I expect you want to know where I’m at with her break-in.”
“I’d be surprised if you’re anywhere on that, considering.”
“You’d be right. It wouldn’t take much to figure out she’s not home some nights, and she’s got flimsy locks.”
Zane gave himself one more mental kick for not so much as thinking of either of those facts beforehand.
“She’s taking care of that part today, and she’s going to talk to Micah about a security system.”
“I’m glad to hear it, both counts.”
Emily brought a plate piled with French toast to the table, sat with them.
Now that the family had settled, Rufus curled himself under the table to join them.
“How’s she doing?” Emily asked.
“Not pissed enough if you ask me. Mostly baffled because the whole thing seems stupid.”
Lee slathered on butter, poured syrup. “I’d agree with her if it wasn’t for the door, the drawers being wiped down. Not a print on them. Now, it may be some asshole, hormonal kid who watched enough TV to worry about leaving prints, but it strikes me some asshole kid’s going to take all the money.”
He wagged his fork in the air. “Taking part of it, that’s smart. Most people are going to say, well, I’d swear I had two hundred in here, then figure they forgot taking some cash out. And I don’t know anybody who knows just exactly how many pair of underwear they’ve got, or Cokes in the fridge, or the rest.”
“She would,” Zane said. “It’s how she operates.”
“I got that, so I’d think asshole kid getting a little rush. But it doesn’t feel quite right. I’d like her to get that security system ASAP. I’d feel some better knowing if somebody tried to get in while she was there, they’d be in for one hell of a surprise.”
“Problem is she sleeps like the dead. Seriously.”
Lee smiled a little. “Is that so?”
“First few times I actually checked to make sure she was breathing. Once she’s out, she’s out. I swear, the proverbial bomb could go off and she wouldn’t so much as twitch.”
“Then she ought to stay with you at least until Lee figures this out, and she gets new locks and that security.” Emily got the worry line between her eyebrows. “I don’t like thinking of her alone up there after this.”
“Neither do I. I asked her to move in with me before this happened. She’s not ready.”
“You…” Emily put down her fork. “That’s a big step, Zane. A big one for you, but apparently you’re ready.”
“Yeah, surprise. I am.”
“Then ask her again.”
He shook his head. “She’s not ready. She’s got more issues in there than she shows.”
Lee poked a finger at him. “What’re you going to do about it?”
“Wait until she’s ready. And give her a few nudges along the way. She’ll stay with me until she gets her house secure. She can handle herself, knows it, but she’s not stupid. And she’ll want her place secure when she moves in with me anyway. She’ll want to keep the house, the land.”
“For another kind of security?” Emily asked.
“Maybe for a while, but primarily because it’s hers, and it’s where she can keep her equipment, maybe hold meetings, experiment with plants.”
Reaching over, Emily gave his hand a squeeze. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”
“I’ve given her a lot of thought. She’s who and what I want in my life. I can wait a little while for her to be sure I’m
who and what she wants in hers.”
Zane gave a quick shrug, a quicker grin. “Because I am.”
* * *
Once Darby had her crew set for the morning, she headed to her place to meet the locksmith and consult with Micah.
Rochelle, the locksmith, turned out to be Ralph’s second cousin on her mother’s side. She wore a thick braid the same color as her steel-rimmed glasses and lipstick as red as a fireplug.
“My mama says Ralph sure likes working for you. Retirement didn’t suit him a whit.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I’m lucky to have him.”
“He’s a quiet sort, our Ralph, so when he says you’ve got a head on your shoulders and aren’t afraid of hard work, you take that as gospel. Cousin Lydia—that would be Ralph’s mama—she wasn’t certain how Ralph would do working for somebody so young, and female to boot. But he’s pleased as Sunday punch.”
“It’s a good thing. I’m hoping to get older, but I’m most likely to stay female.”
Rochelle let out a guffaw, gave Darby a hefty slap on the back.
“We got that in common. So, you had some trouble here, I reckon.”
“Somebody got in. Didn’t take much or do any damage, but I need better locks.”
“You’re not wrong about that, Ms. McCray.”
“Darby.”
“Still not wrong. I can take care of that for you, and will, but I’m gonna have to tell you—you being young, female, and a good boss to Cousin Ralph, I could bust this door in here with one half-assed kick.”
“Yeah, I thought of that.” Darby puffed out her cheeks. “I might replace the doors, front and back, over the winter, but for now good, solid locks. And I’ve got Micah Carter on his way out to see about an alarm system.”
“There’s that head on your shoulders. That boy knows what he’s doing, even if I can’t understand what the hell he’s talking about half the time. You’re pretty isolated up here,” she added as she looked around. “Though I heard you can handle yourself just fine. Heard you’re going to be doing a self-defense course at the community center.”
“Oh, well, I didn’t—”