42. Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Two
D eclan
I watch panic jump into Emma’s expression.
"What do you mean?" she instantly demands of whoever is on the line.
She’s quiet as they speak, her head bobbing at intervals.
Then she gives a final nod.
"Alright. I'll be right there," she says and hangs up.
"What’s going on?" I ask.
"I have to go home. Grandpa says someone came into our cottage while he was taking a nap. He woke up when he heard them up in my room." Her eyes are glassy with fear. "What if it’s Xavier? What if he was looking for me? What if he hurts my Grandpa?"
"Relax." I put my hands on her shoulders and pull her closer. I would give anything to rip the fear from her eyes but all I can do now is soften my voice and project my calm to her. "I won’t let him hurt you or your grandfather, okay?"
"I have to go home. Grandpa's there alone."
"Alright. Let's go."
We rush downstairs and outside into the late afternoon chill. The sun hides behind a cloud, above the silent suburban sitting in the parking lot. I try hard to keep a handle on my emotions knowing that this isn’t the time to explore them. They’re swirling all through me, crashing like waves on each other, before I can even identify them.
I recognize sympathy for what Emma's going through, and I’m furious at that bastard Xavier, for putting her through this. I knew Xavier was bad news the second I saw him, and when I get my hands on him, I’m going to make him pay for everything he’s done to her, every moment of fear she's experienced.
But right now, I need to ease her worry about her grandfather.
As I shut the door, and turn on the car, Emma bites her nails and stares out the window.
That's when I finally decipher the most prominent emotion, the one I just realized after missing her like crazy. The one that I nearly expressed back then in the kitchen, staring into her beautiful eyes.
I think I might love her.
God, that’s pathetic.
I need to stop qualifying my feelings with the word 'think.' It's almost like I'm scared to admit my own emotions to myself which, as a nearly forty-year-old man, is just tragic.
Emma was right. I am a coward when it comes to my feelings.
But I'm a coward who's going to protect her with everything I have.
"Relax," I say, molding my hands over her knees. "I’m sure your grandpa is fine. Why don’t you call him? Keep him on the phone until we get there so we're sure he's safe."
Emma nods and whips out her phone, dialing and putting it on speaker. The call tone echoes in the silence twice. The minute he answers she says, "Grandpa? We’re on our way. Can you stay on the line so I know nothing bad is happening to you?"
"Nothing bad is gonna happen, Emma Jane. Your grandpa is one tough cookie, you know. Heck, I wish that little critter was still up here. You know I've been needing the exercise. He’ll be getting to hell soon enough messing with me."
"Please don't fight anyone, Grandpa. You just had surgery."
"You don't think I could take him?"
Emma smiles weakly. "It's not that I don't believe you, it's just I'd rather we don't find out for sure today. Just stay on the line okay? We're on our way."
"What exactly did you hear?" I ask the old man as I veer onto another lane to avoid a slow car in front of me.
"Not much," he responds. "Only what I told Emma. I woke up, heard rustling and cursing upstairs, and called out to whoever it was. They must have jumped out the window because, by the time I got there, they were gone, but all her drawers were open."
I share a look with Emma. If my theory is correct, then I think I know exactly what they were searching for.
But what does Xavier have to do with it?
According to Emma, he admitted to being involved in the first break-in, but was he behind this one too?
Was he linked to the whole Rainbow Pearl fiasco?
It sounds crazy to think about it, but maybe her ex’s reappearance isn’t the coincidence that we initially thought it was.
I gesture for Emma to take Grandpa off speaker. She nods and does so before pressing the phone to her ear. I'm pretty sure Grandpa starts telling her one of his stories again because she begins to murmur her assent while rolling her eyes occasionally. I crack a smile as I watch her from the corner of my vision, while I dial the police station.
Officer Jensen picks up on the third ring.
"You call me many more times, bud, and I'm going to start thinking you want to buy me a drink."
"Did you get anywhere on those pearls I gave you?"
He groans. "Actually, I didn’t. I'm sorry, it's just with everything going on, I kinda forgot all about them."
"No, that's fine," I say. "But you didn't tell anyone you had them, did you?"
"Nah. But if you want, I can put out a notice that anyone who lost a bag of–"
"No," I interrupt. "Do me a favor and remain tightlipped about this. Don’t tell anyone, not even your partner. This might be the reason for all of this mess."
"How?"
"I’ll come in later and tell you all about it, after I talk to Nate," I say. "I got a few more questions for him."
"Alright. I should be here all day, but I get off at six promptly. It's Bingo Night at Lou's."
"Great. Thanks." I hang up and then tap my finger on the wheel, glancing at Emma. Her eyes are glazed over and she's clearly tuned him out. Concern still lines her forehead, and even as she attempts to converse with her grandpa, her mind is far away.
She's likely thinking about everything and worrying. And I want to take all that away from her, but I might be about to make it worse. I send a silent prayer upward as I watch her.
Whoever the culprit is, please don't let it be anyone she cares about.
At the cottage, Grandpa is sitting on the porch holding what looks to be his fishing pole and a baseball bat. He's wearing only a wife beater and a pair of khaki shorts, despite the cold weather.
"Couldn't load my gun," is his response when I stare pointedly at his tools.
"Right," I say.
"Grandpa you shouldn't be out here," Emma cautions. "It's cold and it looks like it's going to storm."
She's right. In the few minutes of driving the sky has darkened significantly, and the clouds are moving closer together.
"A little rain never hurt nobody, Emma Jane," her grandfather responds.
We hear a pattering on the wood, and the dog appears at the doorway. He freezes as he eyes me and barks a few times. After getting no response, he saunters out to sniff my shoes. Then he runs right to Emma, his tail wagging madly as he rests his front paws on her knees.
"Hi, boy." Emma squats and he rolls over so she can rub his belly.
"The voice you heard," I ask her grandfather. "Was it male or female?"
Grandpa rubs his chin. "Now that I think about it, it sounded like a guy to me."
That doesn't mean much though. If either Rick or Poppy were behind this, I doubt they would do their own dirty work.
I need more information to know for sure, but I'm distracted by Remy yipping one more time in my direction, while still being petted by Emma.
When I look at him, he hangs his head to one side, allowing his tongue to fall out.
Suddenly, it hits me.
"You said you only woke up when you heard a sound upstairs. Right?"
Grandpa nods. "Right."
"You didn’t hear any barking?
"Nah. Remy was in the living room, quiet as a church mouse. Probably napping by the fire."
I turn to Emma. "He wouldn’t have been quiet if it was Xavier breaking in. He would have been barking his head off."
"Who’s Xavier?" Grandpa asks, but Emma doesn't answer. Her eyes widen in horror at the realization.
"Not just Xavier," she says. "He would have barked wildly at any stranger who entered my home."
Meaning whoever broke in wasn’t a stranger. It was someone the dog knew.
"You said Rick gave you the dog, correct?"
"Yeah. He said Poppy found him on the side of the road, stranded after the storm."
Shit.
Rick and Poppy. What were the odds that the two people I suspected both knew the dog?
I didn’t want to tell Emma about my suspicions yet until I was damn sure of them. I wanted to avoid hurting her as much as possible.
But now I don't think I have a choice.
"Emma," I say. "There’s something I need to tell you."