Chapter Four
Cecily hadn’t slept with her headphones for a solid week., too afraid she’d miss a sound downstairs in her shop. Then, too exhausted to hold out anymore, she put on the whale music and passed out from sheer exhaustion.
When she woke, the sun wasn’t streaming through the front windows. Outside was a gray and dreary day, but at least she’d had a good night’s rest.
She removed her headphones and listened hard.
Oh crap.
Was that rain pattering lightly on the roof? No. It was a drip on the floor.
She opened her eyes and looked around her bedroom, the only space in her apartment she’d fully unpacked. Her clothes were hung on a wardrobe bar with a few things folded on a shelf below. Her mattress was on the floor, piled in quilts and pillows. In the other corner was a dressing table that held her makeup—and beside that, the steady drip-drip-drip of a roof leak.
“Damn,” she muttered and got out of bed, the warmth clinging to her as she moved the dressing table a few inches to the side to make room for a bucket to catch the water.
She’d have to phone the landlord and see if they’d fix the leak soon. She didn’t want water invading her shop below. Over the last week, things had calmed down and now this.
“Hello?” A pounding on her door made her leap and her heart slam into her ribs.
She scrambled to throw on a hoodie over her tank top and pajama pants and ran for the door. Who would come up here? Better yet, how were they getting in?
She hesitated at the door, hand on the lock. She still hadn’t gotten that deadbolt the sheriff recommended. “Uh, who’s there?” she asked.
“Deputy Troyer. Are you aware your shop’s been broken into again?”
She threw open the door, eyes wide. “What?” she cried, looking past the big man who stood on her landing.
“Your door’s hanging off the hinges and your place is trashed again.”
“Oh God!” She ran past him, but he caught her before her foot hit the first step.
“There’s glass all over the place. You need shoes.”
They’d smashed everything that was left.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God!” She ran back into her apartment and shoved her feet into flats. She ran past him again and took the stairs at top speed. At the bottom, she drew up short to survey the wreckage of her spa.
A scream ripped from her throat. She moved to drop to her knees, but Troyer turned her against his chest and cupped the back of her head. “I’m sorry, Cecily. This is a terrible thing. You just got situated and now…”
“Get your damn hands off her. What the hell’s going on here?”
She jerked at the sound of Judd’s voice. She hadn’t seen him since he’d practically run from her shop after tossing a few bills at her for his massage. Not only had she not asked for him to pay for the massage, she was a little stricken that he’d felt the need to pay her at all. It made her feel cheap, almost like a woman who woke in her lover’s bed to find cab fare.
Troyer let her go, and she moved back a few steps. When she turned her gaze to Judd, her tears began to helplessly fall. It had only been a week since the last break-in. So far they had no leads, and she’d hoped that part of her life was all over. Now it seemed the smooth operations of the last week, getting her shop in place and a growing list of appointments in her book, was just the calm before the storm.
“Damn.” Judd dipped his head, looking away from the catastrophic mess. Or from her, she wasn’t sure which.
Cries pushed at her throat, but she swallowed them down and spun to her cash register. Nightly, she’d been taking the money out and locking it in a box—
She ran to the bookcase along one wall where she’d set up her new shipment of hair products. They were rifled off the shelves and lay on the floor, some smashed open and squirting over the hardwood like last time.
Behind the box of hair masks, she’d hidden her lock box.
“It’s gone.” Her voice was reedy, and she felt her legs go out from under her again. She sat down hard in the hair products.
“Shit. Cecily!” Judd hooked his arms under hers and hauled her up. When her legs were as operational as spaghetti noodles, she hung in his arms. “Damn, baby doll. Let’s get you into a chair.”
She barely registered him placing her in the salon chair—she was too busy staring at the destruction and realizing everything she’d earned over the past week had been stolen in addition to the cash she kept for change to run a business. So far, the insurance money hadn’t come through either.
She collapsed forward, head in hands. “Who is doing this? Who wants me gone?”
“Good question.”
Using a pen, Troyer lifted the corner of a piece of paper. The paper was stuck to the floor. He let it drop.
Judd stared at Cecily, his eyes steel-hard. “You didn’t hear a thing? The whale music again?”
“I-I stopped listening for a few nights, but it’s the only thing that helps me drift off, and I was so tired last night and figured the shop was safe... How do they know I can’t hear?” The shivers were back with full intensity now that she remembered someone had been just downstairs while she slept peacefully.
“It’s likely if someone is breaking in, it’s coincidence that you’re sleeping with headphones on. But… it’s hard to believe you don’t hear anything, Cecily.”
Her jaw dropped. “What? Are you insinuating that I’m ignoring it?”
He didn’t say anything for a long second.
“C’mon, Judd. She’s torn up seeing her shop this way. Why would she do this herself?”
Cecily leaped from the chair as if it was made of molten lava. She felt her hair flying around her head like a crazy woman’s as she marched up to Judd and jabbed a finger at his stupid sheriff’s star.
“You think it’s me doing this? Why would I wreck my own place?”
“Insurance scams happen all the time.”
She let out a scream like a wild animal’s. Frustration had her balling her fists at her sides. Judd had the grace—and the intelligence—to look away.
“I didn’t trash my shop or steal my own money!”
“How much money was in the lock box?” Judd asked.
“About five hundred dollars. Not a lot, but all I had besides a little in the bank.” She looked past him, and his stupid square jaw with the dark stubble shadowing it, to the door of her shop, hanging off the top hinge. “Now I have to pay for repairs and new inventory. And to top it off, my roof’s leaking in my bedroom!”
She didn’t know if she should bellow or cry. Both seemed feasible options at the moment. She did neither. Instead, she walked into the massage room to find the candle holders all smashed and that someone had taken a knife to the vinyl covering her massage table. All her CDs were broken and lay on the floor as if someone had stirred them with their boot heel.
Judd was at her back—she knew by the solid strength of him, muscles she knew by heart after touching them. Funny how every time she came into this small room, she thought of him now. Almost like it was their special spot.
She was stupid for letting herself crush on the sheriff, and definitely stupid for coming to Bracken.
“That’s it—I’m packing my things and leaving for Phoenix.”
She whirled to the door, but Judd didn’t budge. He settled his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry I insinuated you had done this for insurance money, Cecily.”
“Too late now. The words are out and can’t be taken back. Now please move so I can get packing!”
He didn’t release her.
She’d aim a kick at his shin, but her thin flats were useless against his big legs. She might as well be a fly kicking an ox. “Let go of me please, Sir.” She tried for a haughty tone but failed. Something in his expression made her feel lightheaded.
He flexed his fingers and drew her nearer. Her cheek landed against the hard pillow of his chest, his soft flannel shirt making her tears break free all over again.
“I don’t know what to do. How do I find who’s doing this to me?” she cried against him.
“That’s my job, Cecily. I’m sorry I haven’t found the culprit yet, but rest assured that I will be pounding the streets of Bracken and far beyond until I find the person and have him behind bars.”
“Exactly how are you going to do that? Start looking in people’s pockets for my five-hundred dollars?”
Troyer appeared behind Judd, and she peeled herself away from the sheriff. “I’ll start dusting for prints, boss.”
He nodded and pivoted to look at his deputy. Both of them had hugged her. Odd, wasn’t it? She didn’t want to become some weak woman who needed comforting hugs, but these men must see her that way.
She stiffened her spine and squared her shoulders. She had a mess on her hands, no cash on hand to open for business, and she was still wearing her Winnie the Pooh pajama pants. Only one of these things was in her control.
“I’m going upstairs and getting dressed. Then I’m calling the landlord and making a trip to the bank.”
Judd and Troyer both dropped their gazes to her PJ bottoms. Heat climbed her cheeks, burning off the residue of tears at least. She strode past the men and climbed the stairs to find the bucket was already half full of water. But her life was half empty.
* * * * *
If Judd walked in to find Cecily in Troyer’s arms one more time, his deputy would find himself with a few less teeth. After searching the Drift Away Massage and Day Spa from ceiling to floorboards, he and Troyer had a hell of a lot of female prints and a bunch of hairs. None of it was evidence, and he wasn’t sure how he was finding out who was responsible.
Often people started talking after a crime took place, and rumors were at least breadcrumbs to follow. But after the last break-in, not much buzz had been created, probably since Cecily was new to town and didn’t have friends.
After only a week of business, had anything changed? If her personality was anything to go on, then yes. She’d gotten him talking, and well, he thought of her as a good acquaintance in a weird way considering he wanted to shove his tongue down her throat.
He couldn’t shake the feel of her soft hips pasted to his while she’d cried on his shirt. It had taken a while for the wetness to dry, but he didn’t mind it one bit.
Stop, Roshannon.
“I think that’s it,” Troyer said, reaching for the broken door.
“Looks like it. Take the evidence back to the office and we’ll analyze it there. I’ll be by shortly. I need to make sure this place is secure before I leave.”
“Not sure that door can be fixed. It’s splintered.” Troyer touched the wood near the top around the hinge. “Whoever ripped this off was either big enough to do it easily or they were in a fury.”
“Could be either.” Judd had been thinking along the same lines, though. “Go on. And why don’t you stop by Drake’s and see if he has some doors that would fit this opening?”
“Likely won’t match the old structure. This door’s at least sixty years old. The structure’s built to last, but the door sure wasn’t.”
“Doesn’t matter as long as it closes and locks. Call me with whatever you find out, okay?”
“Sure thing, boss.” Troyer left, and Judd was alone with Cecily.
She was kneeling before the bookcase, scraping all the gooey stuff into a bucket. Her hair was tied back, not hiding her drawn appearance or how pale she was.
“I’ve got some wood behind my place. I can board up your door for you.”
She looked up. “What’s the point. Someone’s just going to rip it off again. Besides, there’s nothing left here to ruin.”
The hopelessness in her voice cut him. He walked over and crouched next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Let me do this for you. It’s not much.”
Her eyelids flickered as if she was holding back a fresh round of tears. She nodded.
“You gonna be okay for an hour or so while I fetch the wood?”
“Sure.” The dead tone of her voice worried him even more.
He squeezed her shoulder and stood. All the way to his place he thought of her sleeping upstairs while someone broke in. What could have happened to her if they’d breached that door. And how he was going to stop this from happening again.
First, he had to do some asking around. Listening to people talk to each other. Criminals liked to brag about their conquests, and the town would be chattering now that the day spa had been robbed twice.
Not only robbed but property was damaged.
Back in the days before Cassie, he’d have an egg of money ready to go into another investment, but she’d taken that from him. Now he didn’t have extra to put into Cecily’s place. The spa needed a high-tech security system and—
Wait—was he actually thinking of taking care of her? Because investing in a day spa wasn’t him at all.
Fact was, she tore at his heartstrings and he couldn’t deny wanting to protect her. Seemed Troyer felt the same. She had a way of burrowing into the hearts of men.
Which could mean she had a very angry, vindictive ex somewhere who was destroying her future.
Judd loaded the wood scraps into the back of his truck and drove straight to the office. He had a lead, and it started with looking into Cecily’s past.
He needed to follow her trail and see what bad pennies he overturned.
* * * * *
An hour later Judd dropped his head into his hands, breathing hard at what he’d just read on his computer screen.
What the fuck? This had to be a joke. She’d given no indication—
His phone buzzed and Birdie came on the speaker. “Your brother’s on line one.”
Judd glared at the phone. “Tell him to fuck off.”
A giggle. “I put it a bit more politely, but I told him you were involved in an important case. He says he can’t wait and he’ll call nonstop until you pick up.”
“Fine,” Judd growled and snapped up the phone. He smashed it to his ear. “What’s your issue, Aiden?”
“Calling you’s like talking to a bear and expecting it to be civil. What’s your problem now?”
“Besides the fact everyone blindsided me with Cassie crap at Eagle Crest?”
“Well, you put them in their places before walking out, so what else is up your ass?”
He glared at the screen again. Small black words, just names… They shouldn’t make him want to take his semiautomatic to the shooting range and mow down every target out there, but they did.
“She’s fucking married,” he muttered.
“What? Who’s married?” Aiden had to have the hearing of a fucking hawk, didn’t he?
Judd pinched the bridge of his nose. “This woman who had her day spa broken into.”
“Bracken has a day spa now? I’ll have to get a gift certificate for Amaryllis. Our anniversary of our first meeting is coming up.”
Judd groaned.
“Sorry. Okay, so she’s married. That’s a problem why?” A beat of silence and then, “Oh.”
“It’s nothing like you think.”
“Then what’s upsetting about it?”
Judd threw himself against his chair back so hard the springs creaked. “Nothin’. Forget I said anything. I’ll figure it out. So what’s your problem you can’t wait on?”
“I’m operating out of your county this afternoon. Had a guy make off with two bulls from a local ranch and Latchaw got word they’re headed to that auction up your way.”
For a moment, Judd stared at the computer screen, trying to process Aiden’s words. “Why ask now? Never have before. Besides, you know I don’t care what jobs you do here in my county.”
“Okay, so I wanted a little backup.”
Judd’s brows drew together. “For one guy? You and Amaryllis should be able to handle him with your eyes closed.”
“Last we heard, the guy’s got a big record—wanted for murder in Colorado.”
Swiveling to his wall of wanted posters, Judd scanned the faces. “Which one?”
“Killed his mother and father before taking off with all the money.”
Judd zeroed in on one photo. “You got it. He’ll be hot, for sure, packing heavy since he knows he’s being hunted. Where the hell’s Wes?”
“Who knows. Off with the biker gang or some shit.”
Judd gave a baleful laugh. “Momma’s pretty wound up about that, for sure. I’ll bring backup. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Get ready, because Am and I are almost on your doorstep.”
Judd closed out of the computer screen and got to his feet. He hung up with Aiden and stomped out of his office. Birdie looked up at him, the smile dying on her face when she saw his expression.
“What’s going on?”
He looked to his deputy. “Granger, I need your vehicle. Mine’s full of wood and I don’t want to listen to it rattling around while I go out on a call.”
The deputy tossed him his keys, which Judd fielded perfectly.
He’d told Cecily he was coming back. Now he had a good excuse to stay away and not face her about his findings.
She was fucking married and had failed to tell him that. She’d kept crucial information from the case. Why? To protect her spouse?
And when he thought about the way she looked at him, that spark he’d felt on several occasions… Well, she was a con artist, that much was clear.
He pushed out a forceful breath through his nostrils and strode out to Granger’s county-issued vehicle. The inside of the pickup smelled like a damn sub shop with a side of Italian dressing. He wrinkled his nose and rolled down both windows as he backed out. By the time he hit the end of the parking lot, Aiden’s truck was sailing by, his brother waving him into line behind him.
This was exactly what Judd needed right now—a good fucking case and a murderer to throw into the dirt while he handcuffed him and sent him packing off to the state pen. It was a distraction from Cecily, at least.