Monday
“THERE’S NO NEED to drag Bobby into this. I can drop you at the hospital this afternoon.”
“It’s already arranged, Zander.” Landon’s ribs were shaking, but she refused to back down.
They sat with Anna at the inn’s kitchen table, comforting steam rising from bowls of green lentil soup swimming with carrot chunks and pale shrimp. Rain streamed down the windowpane. Since she’d expressed her fear that Ciara’s break-in was retaliation for her investigating, Zander had become extra-protective—a knight in shining armour turned prison guard.
Landon scooped a spoonful of the savoury soup, grateful for the warmth. The rain fed her growing sense of claustrophobia. She tore a warm crusty roll in two and slathered it with butter. “This soup is fantastic. Zander, we worked so hard on cleanup this morning that I didn’t want to add anything else to your day.”
His spoon clinked the rim of his bowl. “I can still run circles around you twentysomethings.”
Chewing a hefty bite of roll gave her time to regroup. “Have you seen any updates about that gallery theft in Halifax?”
“No.”
News had broken too late for the morning paper—Anna kept a print subscription for her guests—but it had popped up in Zander’s feeds. A ruby pendant had vanished overnight. No alarms. No sign of an intruder. No pendant. The gallery site described it as a Burmese pigeon’s blood ruby, so named because of its deep red shade. Worth millions and on loan from a private European collector. Stolen on the exhibit’s final night. Online, the large red teardrop glowed with an inner fire. Bobby might call it a dragon’s heart.
“Orran told Ciara and me about the pendant last week. He was going to take her to see it, but then she got readmitted. I wonder if the thief’s the same guy who’s been taking collectibles here. It makes sense he’d be hitting targets all around the province.”
“It wasn’t Orran’s security company, was it?” asked Anna.
“I don’t think so. But I’m sure they hired top of the line.”
Since the apartment break-in, they’d been assuming Ciara’s enemy was behind the other local thefts. If he wasn’t local, it’d be even more challenging to track him down. Spoon to her lips, Landon glanced at Zander. “With everything yesterday, I forgot to ask—did you learn anything from Ciara’s coworkers?”
Was it only yesterday Zander had missed church to interview the store employees before their day got too busy?
“They don’t think much of her, but they couldn’t see her having an enemy who’d try to kill her.”
Anna took a drink and set her water glass on the glossy pine table. “You might catch the manager if you went on a weekday.”
“Her stepfather too.” Landon caught his gaze. “Even if I hadn’t stopped asking questions, he’s too polished and intimidating for me one-on-one. Could you cover that angle too?”
He folded his arms. “She’s been here for months. Why wait this long to attack her—an attack that’s allegedly a mistake—and why steal from her?”
Anna propped an arm on the table. “If this is about collectibles and Ciara’s at least knowledgeable about jade, what if she noticed something incriminating about someone… say her boss or even her stepfather? Not that I have any reason to suspect either of them.”
Zander was nodding, eyes narrowed. “It could be. You said Meaghan worked at the Treasure Stop before Ciara? I’ll check in with the police for updates on the shooting if I haven’t worn out my welcome, and that will give me a reason to touch base with Meaghan. I can ask about her former boss.”
Landon would text Dylan too. He was off today, but he’d said to keep in touch. Maybe Constable Ingerson would check with Ciara’s mother. If the focused cop could gentle down enough to convince Whitney to talk.
“Very well.” Zander sopped the last of his soup with a chunk of roll. “You should be safe between here and the hospital in broad daylight. Make him watch the speed limit in that car.”
“Why, Zander.” Anna put on a lighthearted drawl. “Are you jealous of another man’s wheels?”
“Of course not.”
Landon could almost hear his vertebrae clicking into ramrod position. She gulped her water to hide a smile.
~~~
Landon tolerated Bobby’s silence for about ten minutes before her patience ran out. Driving in the rain didn’t require this much concentration. He’d offered to go, so it wasn’t like she’d dragged him away from work.
“What’s up?”
His jaw tightened. “When you texted that Ciara’s place had been trashed, I assumed she had professionals cleaning it up. You could have asked for help.”
“You could have asked if I needed it.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry. That was unfair. Zander said too many of us would get in one another’s way. We finished this morning.” The ache in her muscles testified it had been more than a two-person job.
“He doesn’t want me around.”
“Zander?”
“How did he react when he heard you were coming with me this afternoon?” He flexed his hands on the steering wheel.
Landon snickered. “Don’t speed.” She told him what Anna had said. “It’s who he is. He takes life—and his responsibilities—too seriously.”
“I get that he’s wound super tight. And he blames me for not keeping you safe from Gord.” One hand left the steering wheel to scuff through his hair, leaving a straw-thatch mess. “But, man, you’d think he was your father.”
The familiar ache hollowed Landon’s chest until her ribs felt like they’d cave in. She turned to the side window. Raindrops pummelled the waves into hunched grey-blue swells. A lone gull bobbed on the surface as if lacking strength to find shelter. The car swept on, abandoning the coast to cut cross-country. Leaving the gull behind.
Life swept on, unstoppable as the tide, increasing the distance between Landon’s present and the fixed point of past loss. Trees flanked the road now. Solemn, dripping sentinels.
“My father’s dead.” Facing the window, she let the tears fall. “He tried to find me. The trafficker killed him.”
Bobby’s breath escaped in a slow hiss. He drove in silence until the trees gave way to private homes and cottages overlooking the LaHave River. Finally he coughed. “I’m sorry. For your loss and for saying something stupid. Again. Maybe Zander’s right to steer you away.”
Landon found a tattered tissue in her raincoat pocket and blotted her cheeks dry. “I know God is my capital-F Father, but if Zander wants to act like a surrogate dad, I need one.”
“Gramp would adopt you in a heartbeat.”
Warmth spread like honey. “He kind of has. For the record, Zander’s dead wrong about you.”
Some of the tension left Bobby’s features, but the corners of his eyes remained pinched. “I’m used to not living up to expectations.” His sideways grin wobbled. “My parents have always wanted to shape me to fit their vision. Jessie tried to renovate me too.”
Landon fiddled with the snap on her raincoat pocket. Why couldn’t the people closest to him see his strengths? “Your outside-the-box thinking this summer told us Anna was being poisoned. You may be the one who’ll come up with a breakthrough for Ciara. Or even Meaghan.”
“Reading between the lines, Gord’s death sounds like a gangland execution. We never did know who he’d been affiliated with. That one needs the experts. But it’s good you’re fighting for Ciara, and I’ll do whatever I can.”
“About that.” How could she explain so it wouldn’t sound weird? She gazed past his profile to the river, flowing broad and blue. Bobby had seen her in full meltdown. More than once. Weird wouldn’t faze him.
“I can’t fight that way anymore.” Her jumbled explanation of self-discovery left her shaken again by the fury lodged in her heart. Letting go had been near impossible when she thought she could rely on God’s vengeance. Now Ruth—and Anna—claimed God would trade judgment for mercy for even the worst offender.
Unease rippled. “I’ll help Ciara as a friend. For her sake, not for personal retaliation. Any clues I—or my brilliant getaway driver—find go straight to the police.”
“That’ll relieve the local constabulary.” His deadpan delivery implied a mental eye roll.
“Yeah, I texted Dylan a few questions, and when I said I was backing off, he replied with starburst icons and a sound clip of the ‘Hallelujah Chorus.’ Zander’s going to continue investigating, for both Ciara and Meaghan. He can keep up with some of his casework remotely too.”
By the time they arrived at the hospital, the rain had paused. Low-hanging clouds warned them to hurry. In the elevator, Bobby braced an elbow against the wall. “I won’t stay long. She’ll open up more with you one-on-one.”
They found Ciara propped up in bed, her violet sweatshirt accenting the drabness of her surroundings. The tube still ran below her nose. But her cheeks had almost regained their regular curve, and her eyes were less sunken. She set her phone aside and waved them in. “I’m not supposed to be on screens, but it’s so boring.”
Landon plunked a paper bag of Anna’s blueberry muffins on the bedside table and dropped into the visitor’s chair. “You could stream some music.”
“I tried. Puts me to sleep.”
At the foot of her bed, Bobby wagged a finger with mock severity. “Sleep is what you need, young lady. Concussion headaches are nothing to be trifled with, even without a side order of pneumonia.”
She giggled. “Yes, Doctor.”
He kept her smiling with a handful of what he called Roy’s “irascible moments” before excusing himself. “I’ll let you two visit while I try to make my word count.”
Ciara squinted after him as he left. “How can he sit in front of a laptop day after day and turn words into a story?”
“Beats me. Have you read them?”
Her perfectly shaped brows puckered, and her lips curled down as if she’d stepped in something squishy. “Sci-fi’s too out-there for me. How about you?”
“He gave me a book the other day. Now I need to find a break in school work.”
“I think he likes you.” The teasing singsong didn’t match the bitter twist to her mouth. But where the Ciara of old would have shifted into competition mode—even though they both knew Bobby wasn’t her type—today, she squirmed into a more comfortable position against her pillows. She fluffed her short brown hair, the bracelet Shaun had found glinting at her wrist.
“We’re just friends.”
“So says you. One day I’ll get him alone and ask him.”
He’d been so uncomfortable when Ciara flirted with him this summer. Landon could imagine the ruddy cheeks and downcast eyes if Ciara made good on her threat. What if it made him think Landon might be interested in him? He’d retreat, and she’d lose a friend. “Please don’t. You know he’s self-conscious.”
Ciara cut her an unreadable look. “Have it your way. In other news, still on the theme of men who are not interested in me, Constable Ingerson was in this morning. Vancouver police had a little chat with Spencer. My ex.”
“And?”
“His smooth denials don’t mean he’s not involved. The man’s an eel. But this feels kind of… beneath him. He’s power-hungry. Not petty.” Ciara twined a finger into the chain at her wrist. “He treated me like a princess. Expensive gifts, romantic dinners, everything I’d dreamed of. Except he was using me to get to my boss.”
Her features puckered. “The morning of the corporate takeover, he breezed into the office in an expensive Italian suit, thanked me for my help, and said, as my new boss, he couldn’t maintain a relationship with me. And poor Ken standing there with this betrayed expression.”
“That must have been awful.”
“I believed his lies, and a good man paid for it. So I ran back here where I’d be safe and found a dead-end job that’s sucking the life out of me because I’m so bad at it.” Ciara’s lips quivered, then firmed. “I didn’t know Phil and Ken were friends, but that’s why Ken hired me. So when I ruined the company, it reflected on Phil. No wonder he hates me.”
“Hey.” Landon reached to touch Ciara’s arm. “Spencer is the bad guy here. Not you. Trusting someone’s not a crime.”
“He saw the real me, the one I didn’t see myself. A gullible, foolish pawn. That’s not who I want to be.”
“It’s not who you are. Don’t accept someone else’s label. This is a setback, but it doesn’t have to define you.”
Ciara’s mutinous huff disagreed. She sank lower into the bed, head slumped down on the crisp pillowcase. Not making eye contact. The night they met Orran and Tait, she’d said she came home to figure things out. Landon had wondered if the issue was local, perhaps from her past. But after a disaster like this, of course she’d want a safe place to regroup.
She’d been home since at least June. It didn’t make sense for the attack and theft to be a delayed response unless this Spencer guy considered Ciara a non-priority loose end. When had her stepfather discovered her role in the company takeover? Not until Ken came to visit? And had Ken and Kimi sought her out to show there were no hard feelings—or for payback?
~~~
“The grief and anger were killing me, and what did my pastor say?” Ruth Warner wasn’t a dynamic, polished speaker, but she didn’t need to be. Her simple account wove an emotional web that drew them all into the story.
Landon angled forward, the church pew’s padded cover shifting beneath her thighs. Coming here tonight was one more act of defiance against those who’d crushed her innocence, but a God-directed one this time. The shiver in her breastbone said He wanted her here—and that she wouldn’t like it.
She ached for relief from the anger, but the last time she let it go, she’d trusted God to pick it up. The idea of God putting aside His wrath to redeem evil men made her want to scream at the sky.
“ ‘Forgive him. Pray for him.’ The man who butchered our niece.” Ruth jerked her chin, brown curls lifting. “As if that was going to happen.”
Brief conversations with Ruth at the inn had prepared Landon for the trigger points, but the full story left her jittery inside. Only God could have kept Ruth praying for her abductor in her terror. And only God could have given her the desire and the privilege to lead him to salvation. It sure wasn’t a natural response.
At the end of Ruth’s account, the crowd murmured, divided as she’d warned they’d be. Light, rapid notes of praise met deeper, resistant chords of unrest.
Zander sat stiff and upright to Landon’s left, jaw forward and eyes hooded. Forgiveness was a key part of his counselling for the victims’ sake, but Landon had never heard him mention the offenders’ spiritual need. For broken, traumatized victims, that would have been too much too soon. She focused on a brown hardcover Bible in the pew rack, worn and dented at the corners. Her trafficker was dead. But his partners and the nameless men who’d used her—what if God forgave them? Her stomach heaved.
Anna’s arm circled her shoulders. “And they say faith is soft and fluffy.”
The unexpected quip made Landon snicker. The woman in front of her turned with a squint-eyed glare. Landon mouthed an apology and leaned sideways into Anna’s hold. She had to forgive for her own healing. And allow God to do the same. Ruth’s testimony reinforced that truth. The shiver in her chest was a pressure now, a knowing, a call to take it further. God loved the worst like He loved the rest, and He wanted to save them all.
Trembling, she strained to breathe. Her gaze darted around the sanctuary.
Bobby flashed a fingertip salute from where he and Roy sat across the aisle. A brimmed camouflage hat at the end of a row near the rear—Nigel. Anna had invited Maria, but the inn’s former owner had retorted that “Some of the lost need to stay lost.”
Landon couldn’t argue. The thought of redemption for the predators raked her heart raw again, filling her mouth with a metallic taste. She wanted them to suffer. Needed them to pay.
After Pastor Vern’s closing remarks, she followed Anna on stiff legs toward Ruth and Tony. This would be goodbye before the couple headed home to Halifax. A loose ring of people stood near Ruth. Most held themselves a little apart as if to guard their privacy and that of others. A few folded-armed individuals gravitated together.
Tony had positioned his broad frame resolutely at his wife’s side. When he caught Landon’s gaze, a smile split his sandy beard. He bent his mouth to Ruth’s ear, and she looked past the waiting folks to Anna and Landon. “Thank you for everything.”
“Thank you.” Anna waved. To Landon, she said, “If you want to stay, I can wait.”
Landon pressed her fingertips to the pit of her stomach. “I’m good.”
Anna’s brown eyes seemed to measure her. “Okay, let’s find Zander.”
He stood near the exit, head together with Nigel. Two protective men, discussing tonight’s topic or strategizing to find the one who’d attacked Ciara? Zander broke off and stepped toward them. Nigel nodded twice and touched the brim of his camouflage cap. He melted out into the night.
Before they reached Anna’s car, his bicycle cruised past. They caught up to him on the next block. With his headlight and the reflective tape on his helmet and safety vest, he’d be visible to motorists even on the unlit road from town to the inn. To Elva’s. Instinct told Landon he’d check in before cycling home.
The butter-yellow glow of the inn’s outside light welcomed them as Anna followed the driveway to park beside Zander’s dark SUV. Lamps shone through the windows. Anna maintained that, guests or no guests, the inn should be an inviting haven.
As they walked along the slate path, a shadow at the base of the stairs unfolded into a lean, ragged marmalade cat. Without glancing their way, he strolled toward the forest, crooked tail held high.
Anna snorted. “Hello to you too.”
“Thanks for waiting up, Mister.” He’d never be tame. He did seem to trust Landon now, although she was careful to let him make the first move. Soon he blended into the shadows. “That’s the closest I’ve seen him come to the building.”
With the door unlocked, Anna stepped toward the kitchen. “I’ll put the kettle on.”
Zander sidled past. “If you’ll both excuse me, I have emails to attend to. For the local investigation and my day job.”
Landon followed him along the hallway, calling over her shoulder to Anna that she’d be back. “Zander, your clients need you. It’s been great to have your support here, but maybe it’s time to go home.”
He surged up the stairs on silent shoes. “First, we put an end to this threat. He’s not going to stop on his own.”
“The police will find him. You don’t have to take this so personally.”
Zander spun with the grace of a dancer and closed the distance between them. “When he involved you, he made it personal.” His tight-lipped attempt at a smile couldn’t hide his emotion. “Go down and unwind with Anna. I may join you if I get my work done.”
She was pulling on a pair of red and black plaid pyjama pants when Anna called from the stairwell.
“Landon, Zander—we have a problem.”
Leaving her skirt flung on the bed, Landon stuffed her phone into her pocket and raced for the stairs, fingers fumbling with the pants’ woven drawstring. Zander’s door clicked open behind her.
On the main level, Anna stood in the hallway, her arms clamped tight, her lips a hard line. Her chest rose and fell, rapid breaths shaking the thin gold chain at her throat. “Come and see.” She strode back down the hall, shoes thumping against the hardwood floor.
“In here.” In the private sitting room, Anna bypassed the twin teal recliners for the desktop computer.
Landon’s pulse spiked and her feet slowed. Not again. Their online trouble, the fake reviews, and the hacked website—that was Gord. It was finished. No way could this be starting over.
Then she saw the wall above the monitor. The jagged hole in the front of the safe. The flap of metal peeled away like a tab to expose the interior. The air left her lungs.
One hand clapped to her mouth. “Ciara’s jade bangle.”
Eyes narrowed, Anna nodded. “Gone. I’ve already phoned. There’ll be an officer here shortly.”
Zander had activated the flashlight on his phone and elbowed the chair away from the desk. Now he crouched, peering underneath. “He left his saw.”
“That’s Murdoch’s jigsaw.” Anna’s cheeks flamed. “Of all the—” Breath burst from her nostrils like a shot of steam.
Straightening, Zander pocketed his phone. “This tells us two things. He didn’t come expecting to break into a safe. And he knew he’d have time to find any tools he’d need.”
“Adding insult to injury is what it says to me.” Anna dug her fingers into her hair, pushing the grey-streaked brown bob away from her cheeks. “We should wait somewhere else. I just wanted you to see this.”
A firm rap on the rear door sent her scurrying from the room. Hinges creaked, and Dylan’s deep voice washed some of the tension from Landon’s spine.
He stepped into the sitting room, his focus first on her. A lingering look, a flicker of sympathetic headshake, before acknowledging Zander too. Long strides took him to the ruined safe. “Not the first time I’ve seen this. Fire safes are often too thin to deter a determined thief.”
Anna stood with arms wrapped around her ribs. “I needed fire-retardant for our guests. International travellers often want a secure spot for their passports. I never thought it wouldn’t be strong enough.”
Dylan leaned a hip against the desk corner. “He could’ve cut a thicker one out of the wall and smashed it open somewhere else. If you want to replace it with a higher-end version, I’m sure Ciara’s friend Tait can advise you.”
He opened his notebook. “Let’s start with what’s missing.”
While Landon explained about Ciara’s missing bracelet, Anna tapped at her phone. Scowling, she passed it to Dylan. “The cameras didn’t catch anything. He must have come in the front. It’s locked. I checked.”
“Who knew you’d all be out?”
A sick feeling rippled in Landon’s stomach. “And who knew Ciara’s bangle was here?”
Anna tugged her blouse cuffs down over her hands as if the temperature had dropped. “That poor girl. Can we wait for morning to tell her? I’ll need to get the valuation details for my insurance.”
“Sounds fair to me. It’s late and she’s still recovering.” Dylan returned Anna’s phone. “I know you already did it, but I want to have a look at the front entrance and the ground-floor windows. Landon, do you still have Ciara’s keys? It might be wise to check her apartment too.”
“I’ll get them.”
As Landon stepped into the hall, her phone buzzed a text alert. She tugged it from her pyjama pocket. Please, not Ciara, not now. How could she tell her friend the bracelet was gone? Seeing Bobby’s name was a relief.
Are you okay?
How did he know? She typed that question back at him.
Just thought tonight might have stirred up some stuff.
Tonight? Her brain caught up. Church. Offenders escaping wrath. Crisis of belief. That was tonight.
More words lit her phone. Need to talk?
Not telling him about the break-in until later would be worse than Zander excluding him from Ciara’s apartment disaster. Come over? We’ve been robbed. Let yourself in. Dylan’s here.
He replied with an open-mouthed text image. On my way.
Landon jogged upstairs while the others spread out on the ground floor to test the locks. Her purse dangled by its thin blue strap from the hook behind her bedroom door. She fished out Ciara’s accessory-heavy key ring, then spun to give the space a slow once-over.
A locked door didn’t mean the thief hadn’t been in here. The realization stirred the tiny hairs on the back of her neck. As far as she could remember, the sage duvet had been smooth and untouched before she threw her skirt on it. The laptop on the bedside table was undisturbed. So were her hairbrush and the trinkets on the mirrored dresser.
He had no reason to come upstairs. But if he had, it wouldn’t have been hard to figure out which room was hers. The front two, empty tonight, were open for airflow. That left the rear-facing rooms. If he used the passkey from Anna’s desk, he wouldn’t even have to breach the locks.
Staring at the stretched-canvas image of the yellow swallowtail with its stark black stripes, she counted ten slow breaths. There weren’t many places he could have searched. A glance at the orange monarch print—bright colours for courage—and she took four swift steps to the dresser. Its satin-smooth, aged-honey finish matched the four-poster bed. Grasping the curved wooden handles, she tugged open the top drawer. If the thief had pawed through the familiar jumble of socks and underwear in search of Ciara’s bracelet, she’d never know.
In the next drawer, her shirts lay neatly folded. Given the mess he’d made at Ciara’s place, he hadn’t been here.
She opened the third. A knife lay on top of her pink sweater, wooden handle dark against the knit fabric, wicked-looking serrations lining the blade.
Her gasp crescendoed to a scream.
A deadly cold spread from her core, numbing her mind. She forced herself to blink, but the image stayed. Threatening.
She retreated on frozen legs.
~~~
“Landon.”
Her name penetrated the dead zone that held her.
Brown eyes. Arm’s length in front of her. Dylan.
She blinked. Realized she was sitting. Somewhere soft.
Crouched before her, Dylan nodded in slow motion. “You’re safe. Breathe with me.”
Vision tunnelled on his gaze, she obeyed. Her lungs unlocked. Feeling returned. Warmth in her extremities, but still ice at her core.
“Good. Take my hands?”
She did, registering her surroundings. Anna’s sitting room. Anna’s arm around her waist, holding her close. She must have walked on her own. Or had they found her wandering lost and led her here?
Dylan gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Talk to me. What is it?”
Unsticking her tongue from the roof of her mouth took an eternity. She worked up enough saliva to swallow. “My dresser. Knife.”
Anna gasped.
Landon’s mind flashed back to the steel blade gleaming against her sweater. Her breath faltered. She tried to anchor on Dylan’s face and the steadiness of his grip. On the warmth of Anna’s hip pressed into hers.
“I need to see this.” Dylan’s uniform rustled as he stood.
“Is everyone okay?” Bobby skidded into the room, gasping for breath.
“Someone broke into the safe while we were at church and stole Ciara’s bracelet.” Anna’s fingers curved tighter around Landon’s ribs. “And—”
“A weapon was found on the premises.” Dylan finished for her. “Since you’re here, will you stay with Landon? Anna, if you could check your room while Zander and I go upstairs?”
Zander’s caged-panther pacing ceased. He scowled. “My door was locked.”
“So was mine.” How could she sound so stiff when her nerves were jumping out of her skin?
Bobby rushed forward, smacking his shin on the coffee table. “He left a weapon in your bedroom?”
“A knife.” The word tasted metallic. Cold.
Anna slid away from her, then stood. “I’ll see if our thief left me any presents.”
Bobby eased onto the pastel floral couch cushion as if it supported something fragile. Or a brimming cup. Or a girl he’d seen fall apart more than once. He offered his hand, palm up.
When she took it, his fingers curled around hers, a pressure barely felt yet comforting. “I hadn’t found the knife when I asked you to come.”
Anna returned and dropped into the space beside Landon. “Nothing out of line.”
“It’ll only be me. For defending Ciara and keeping her bracelet. I stopped asking questions, but he doesn’t care.”
“You don’t know that. Zander’s been investigating too.” Anna didn’t say what Landon thought—that Zander had a better chance of finding the culprit.
The stark red and black plaid of her pyjama pants blurred. “He’s only helping because of me. Take me out, and he’ll stop.”
Bobby snorted. “Take you out, and Zander will move heaven and earth to bring the guy down. Perhaps our perp needs to know that.”
Zander and Dylan returned with matching grim expressions. Once through the door, Zander stalked to the window. “Your forces are spread too thin.”
Dylan stopped, feet apart, opposite the couch. With a pointed look at Landon’s and Bobby’s joined hands, he let one eyebrow drift upward.
Landon reached her other hand to clasp Anna’s. Friendship and solidarity. Dylan could forget his imagined romance.
A faint smile said he caught her meaning. “Zander’s room was clean. As was yours, Anna?”
“Yes.”
“So this threat targets Landon alone.” Dylan rocked on his heels. “He wants to show he can reach you through a locked door, but he hasn’t tried to harm you. Yet.”
Bobby stirred, shifting the cushions beneath them. “Stay at Gramp’s tonight. In case he comes back.”
“No.” Zander clamped his arms across his chest. “If he tried anything there, you’d have no protection.”
Bobby’s exhale carried a growl.
She squeezed his hand. “Elva’s the sharpshooter. But I’m not going there either—even if she’d have me. Dylan’s right. This is a scare tactic.”
Dylan tipped an index finger in her direction. “It looks like that’s what it is. You need to be careful.”