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We take a seat in the chairs outside Mona’s room, and she digs into the BBQ sandwich like she hasn’t eaten in a week. “Mmm, you’re a lifesaver. It’s going to be a lengthy recovery with her knee especially, but she’ll be alright. She’s going to have to stay with me for a while. The hardest part is going to be getting her to take it easy. She’s already said she’s perfectly capable of working from her wheelchair.”
“That sounds like her.”
We talk for a few minutes, and she promises to call me if there’s anything I can do to help. On my way home, I make a mental note to put together a care package and some reheatable dinners for them. Silver is going to be busy trying to keep up with her Mom’s care and the diner.
I’m lost in my thoughts and plans for the next few days as I park in my driveway and walk up the steps. It isn’t until my keys have been retrieved from my pocket that I freeze. The cabin door stands ajar.
Not again.
Did I leave it unlocked? Damn it, why didn’t I get that stupid latch fixed?
Swallowing, I survey my dark surroundings. Arlow’s truck is gone. I’m not calling that smarmy cop out here again, and there’s no way I’m bothering Silver right now.
It’s fine. The wind blew it open again, that’s all. Despite trying to reassure myself, I take the time to grab my new knife from the glove box, berating myself for not getting a gun. It’s just moved to the top of my to-do list.
The door swings open easily with a slight push. All the lights are off, and that first step inside has my heart thumping against my ribs. My fingers fumble across the wall to flip the switch, and my stomach falls into my feet.
My living room is demolished.
CHAPTER 23
ARLOW
The weather has suddenly rememberedit’s supposed to be cold this time of year and seems to be trying to make up for it. Even with the heat on, my truck doesn’t get warm until I’ve pulled onto my road. Calli’s pie container sits beside me on the seat. Earl has been waiting for her to get back to return it to her. I’m happy to have an excuse to stop at her place.
Her doorway is a bright rectangle in the darkness when I turn into our driveway. I expect to see her coming in or out, maybe bringing in firewood. When she doesn’t appear by the time I’ve parked alongside her car, my concern spikes. Something is wrong.
The pie container is forgotten on the seat as I hurry to her door. The living room is a disaster. Her couch is flipped, the cushions missing. The coffee table lays on its side, cracked down the middle. Papers, her vinyl albums, books, everything is scattered from hell to breakfast.
“Calli!” I shout, running inside. All the air returns to my lungs when I see her standing in her bedroom, a suitcase open on her dresser.
Her eyes are wide, pupils eating up her irises. “You scared the fuck out of me!”
“What happened? Are you okay?” Stupid question considering the tremble in her hands.
“I don’t know. I just got home and…” She gestures around her bedroom at the destruction. Her mattress hangs off the bed, slashed in multiple places, all her drawers have been pulled out and dumped. “I can’t stay here. I shouldn’t have come back.” Her movements are frantic as she goes back to slamming clothes into a suitcase.
“Hey.” Dodging the mess on the floor, I rush over to her. Her chest rises and falls with quick breaths, but she pauses when I take hold of her shoulders. “Wait. Slow down.”
“I can’t! Look around! This isn’t just a burglary. Someone broke the lock on my door to come in and tear everything up! Why? What the hell is going on? Why can’t I be safeanywhere?”
The raging despair in her voice shreds my heart, and I pull her into my arms. She holds onto me so tightly, burying her face in my chest. “I was happy here,” she mumbles.
“You don’t need to go anywhere. You’re safe with me.” Pulling her back, I look into watery eyes. “Do you hear me? We’re going to figure this out.”
Doubt lives in her face, but she wraps her arms around me again. “Can you just hold me a second? I’m trying not to have a panic attack.”
I’m going to kill Handleman with my bare fucking hands for doing this to her. She’s right, this isn’t a burglary, it’s personal. With our shared driveway, it wouldn’t be hard for him to think the cabin was mine too. I assumed it was part of the property when I first looked at it.
“I’ve got you.” Her body trembles against mine while I hold her, rubbing her back. “I’ll never let anything happen to you, Calliope. You’re safe.” Deep deliberate breaths slowly turn into more even ones, and she steps back, more composed.
“You should go check your place. Your barn. Your art.”
“I will, but that’s not my concern right now.”
“I’m alright. I’m going to pack some stuff, find a hotel for a few days until I figure out what I want to do.”
If she leaves, I doubt I’ll ever see her again. Whatever I’ve cost Handleman in the past, he isn’t taking her from me. “Have you called the police yet?”
