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Della took in a deep breath. Relief went through her when she picked up Chase’s scent—along with some disinfectant.
“Who called the police?” Mrs. Applebee asked and then glared at the guard.
“She probably did it with her mind,” the guard said.
“I don’t know,” the nurse answered.
“Let them in,” Mrs. Applebee said.
Chase walked in. Della’s heart did a few somersaults. His gaze landed on Della for only a second, then focused on Mrs. Applebee. “Madam,” he said and held out the badge.
The woman glanced at it and looked up as if content, or maybe not content. Nervous.
Chase wore his black suit—it looked a little wrinkled, but the disheveled look fit that of a tired officer. His hair was pushed back, a little mussed as if he were coming off a hard shift. He looked official. His height and shoulder width in the suit, accompanied by his five o’clock shadow, hid all signs of his true age. He looked … wonderful. Like her knight in shining armor.
It hit her then. Hard. She loved him. A knot appeared in her throat and she swallowed. Not now! Not now!
“I hear you have an intruder?” Chase said. Mrs. Applebee waved a hand toward Della.
“Yes, I wasn’t aware that you were called.”
Chase eyed her. “Looks like a runaway.”
He must have overheard some of the dialogue before he came in.
“She swears she isn’t, but … she’s not talking.”
“They never do,” Chase said. “A night in a real cell usually loosens their tongues.”
“What’s your name?” Chase asked her.
“I’m not a runaway,” Della said, repeating her concocted story of how she’d wandered in and gotten locked in the room. Then, feeling as if Chase might need the ammunition, she said, “He shot at me. With a real gun. Real bullets. And he’s drunk.”
Chase’s eyes brightened. She saw his eyes shift down her body as if checking for blood. Then he turned to the guard. “You shot at her?”
“No! She threw a box at me and the gun went off.”
“I never threw a box. They must have fallen off,” Della said.
“I … I’m aware how this looks,” Mrs. Applebee said. “I apologize.”
Chase turned back to the woman and Della could see his mind ticking on how to play this. “Did she do any damage?” Chase asked.
“Made a mess of our old files,” the woman said.
“She did it with her mind,” the guard said.
Chase glared at the guard and then at Mrs. Applebee. “You realize you could both get in big trouble. This girl could have been killed.”
Mrs. Applebee’s face turned white while the guard’s turned red, or redder. “Fine, I’m a little drunk, but I know what I saw. She was throwing boxes at me and she was on the floor and the boxes were coming from the top.”
“I apologize for him,” Mrs. Applebee said. “We have a service who hires out security. We weren’t aware that—”
“She’s telekinetic or she’s a witch.” The guard shot up and walked out.
Chase looked back at Mrs. Applebee. “Obviously, this could be trouble. For you and for our … runaway. Are you pressing charges?”
“Well, I…” Her gaze moved to Della. “I tried to solve this without getting the police involved. But she wouldn’t give me any information.”
