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“Nico, please be careful.” She squeezed his arm. “He’s dangerous.”
“Go. Now.”
Nico waited for the telling click, then shot toward the back door. The locks were solid, something he’d been happy about when he moved in. Now he winced at the noise of the deadbolt sliding, loud enough to announce his exit to anyone who might be listening.
Outside, rain still fell in a light sheen, a prequel to the oncoming storm. Save for the occasional boom of distant thunder, the night was quiet. No twigs snapped. No foliage rustled. Just the soft pitter-patter of water on leaves. Nico slithered into the shadows. The trees provided good cover as he made a wide circle to the front of the cabin, hoping to flank the bastard if he’d been stupid enough to stick around and watch the fallout. After two full laps, he knew whoever it was, was long gone.
An hour later, Lexie had finally stopped shaking. Frank—who happened to be the officer on call that night—had come back to search the surrounding streets, finding nothing. He promised to check around a third time to be sure once they’d finished nailing up a few boards against the shattered windowpane. West had showed up too, catching wind of their misadventure through whatever magic channel it was that ensured the chief of police knew about everything happening on the island in real time. Though he wore casual clothes, he’d donned his wide-brimmed police hat for the occasion, walking the stoned pathway with an air of pride and authority that Nico had come to expect. An air that rapidly changed to disapproval when he spotted Lexie—now fully clothed—retreating to the bedroom. He didn’t ask questions, just got to work helping Nico and Frank secure the cabin, both from the elements, and from further attack.
“This could have been kids, you know.” West spoke with a nail pinched between his lips as he hammered another into the frame. “Believe it or not, we do have our fair share of troubled youth around here.”
Lining up his own nail, Nico flicked an irritated glance his way. “You can’t be serious.”
West sighed. “I’m just saying, this might not be what you think.”
“And it might be exactly what I think.”
“Well, either way, we can’t jump to conclusions.”
“Your favorite line, right?” Nico banged in the last nail with more force than necessary.
West finished his side and put the hammer down. He hesitated, then stepped closer. “You got something you want to say to me?”
“I’ve said plenty,” Nico replied, testing the finished board for weaknesses. He dropped his own hammer onto the kitchen table. “You know where I stand.”
“Look, you’ve gotta let this go. I did my job. I questioned Kyle Garrett. I warned him off. She never came back to say either way what happened after that.”
“Your job was to make her feel safe,” Nico hissed. “Heard. Protected. You failed. And now he thinks he can get away with anything, including this shit.”
“This could have been anyone,” West argued, mimicking Nico’s angry gesture to the non-existent window, where Frank stood still as a statue and just as quiet. “Including retaliation from Logan Hayes and his cronies for that little stunt you two pulled tonight.”
Nico blinked.
Shit.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t find out about that? Or were you just too gutless to come to me yourself?”
Frank cleared his throat. “Uh, sir, we just thought—”
“Shut up, Frank. You—” West jabbed Nico in the chest. “Explain.”
“I made a judgment call on behalf of the investigation.”
“Behind my back?”
“We planned to fill you in as soon as—”
“No!” West bellowed. “You do not fill me in on plans and strategies. You do not let me know about executed searches after the fact!”
Nico lifted his hands in a helpless shrug. “Fine. Let’s say I pitched you the idea beforehand. What would you have said?”
“I would have told you to wait for a goddamn warrant.” West’s voice came out almost a growl.
“Like that would have mattered to them?”
“It would have made it legal.”
“Law enforcement has the right to conduct a search and seizure in the field without a warrant if there is probable cause,” Nico stated matter-of-factly.
