Chapter 19
Chapter 19
She fought him all the way to the medical center, but Calvin wouldn’t budge. The woman was a danger to herself. She’d been on the island a little more than a week and already had had three incidents that had led to bodily injury. She needed full-time supervision, and there was no way in hell Calvin was leaving that to anyone else.
By the time she got her x-rays done and was wheeled out to the waiting room where he sat, she seemed completely worn out. The nurse who’d pushed her chair told them it wouldn’t be long until the doctor would speak to them. Daphne thanked her, then turned to Calvin.
They watched each other for a long moment.
“Have you come to your senses yet?” Daphne finally asked.
“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m going home tonight, Flint.”
“Agreed. My home. I have a nice second bedroom and everything you need.”
She took a deep breath, her hands gripping the arms of her wheelchair as if to stop her from launching herself at him. “Why?”
“Because if I drop you off at your apartment, you’ll probably fall down the stairs and break your neck. I’d rather that not happen. I live in a single-story house. No steps to navigate. Less chance of catastrophic injury.”
“I didn’t know you cared so much.”
Neither did he. But it seemed imperative that Daphne stayed somewhere close where he could keep an eye on her. He needed to protect her from herself. Somehow, he didn’t think Daphne would respond well to him saying that out loud.
“I need you to finish the work you’ve started with the department’s finances,” he finally replied. “It would be inconvenient to have to find someone new.”
Daphne hummed, then turned when a woman in scrubs and a white lab coat came walking toward them.
Fifteen minutes later, Calvin wheeled Daphne out of the medical center after confirmation that her ankle was only lightly sprained and should be fine within a week or two. All she had to do was keep it iced until the swelling went down and keep her weight off it.
Calvin let out a relieved breath. At least there was a bit of good news.
Once Daphne was in the passenger seat of his truck, Calvin got behind the wheel and turned on the engine. He paused, glancing at her. “So?”
Her skin was burnished gold under the glow of the streetlights. It was only dinnertime, but darkness had already blanketed the island. Rain drenched the outside world as the truck’s heat blew over them inside the vehicle.
Daphne sighed, rolling her head on the headrest so she could look at him. “I’ll come to yours,” she conceded, and Calvin had to fight to hide the satisfaction that washed over him. “But only because I’m exhausted, and you’re right about the stairs. As soon as I get some crutches and get more mobile, I’m going home.”
“Deal,” he said, and started driving.
Real estate agents would describe Calvin’s home as the worst house on the best street. He’d inherited the three-bed, one-bath bungalow from his father’s estate, and the neighborhood had grown and improved around it in the years he’d been gone. As he pulled up to the small worn-down home, a familiar tug pulled at his chest.
The house was familiar and unfamiliar all at once. It was layered with memories of his early youth, when things had been good, and the later years, when they hadn’t. Stepping through the door the first time a few weeks ago had been surreal.
Now, it felt almost normal.
He helped Daphne up the path and through the front door. She leaned on his arm as she glanced around the foyer. His shoes were lined up as they always were. When he opened the closet, she peered inside at the jackets hanging within. He added his own, then hers, making sure to evenly space the hangers before closing the closet door.
Daphne watched him; then she swung her gaze to the living room. “You’re very tidy,” she noted.
He followed her gaze. He’d gotten rid of all his mother’s knickknacks, given the place a thorough cleaning, and set himself up as comfortably as he could. Couch, coffee table, TV, and fireplace in the corner. The remotes were lined up at the edge of the coffee table. His throw blanket was folded over the arm of the sofa.
“I like things to be neat,” he said, which wasn’t much of an explanation. The truth was his teenage years had been marked with such chaos that he now felt the need to keep his life as orderly as possible. Messes set him on edge. Clutter raised his blood pressure.
Things had designated places, and Calvin made sure that’s where they stayed. He had routines and habits that kept him on the straight and narrow. Deviating from them felt too close to that out-of-control tailspin that had led him down the path of self-destruction all those years ago.
Daphne smiled at him, and it wasn’t the razor-sharp smirk or the reluctant grin she’d sometimes try to bite back. It was a genuine look of appreciation. “I like things to be neat too,” she said, and allowed him to help her to the couch. His hands lingered on her shoulders as he helped her settle. For a woman who was so strong, who had such a massive presence in his life these days, she seemed too fragile right now.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Starving.”
He nodded. A strange kind of satisfaction spread through him at the thought of having her in his home. Taking care of her. Making sure she was fed and rested.
There were half a dozen pizza places on the island, but only one of them was worth buying from. Calvin left Daphne on the couch with ice on her ankle, a blanket, and a glass of ice water, then ducked back out into the rain to pick up their pies.
Thirty minutes later, after a drive to the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant housed down a side road on the outskirts of Carlisle, Calvin was in possession of two Neapolitan-style pizzas. He nudged his front door open and found Daphne asleep on the couch, the TV playing an old rerun of Friends while her ice pack dribbled onto the rug below.
She blinked her eyes open when he walked in, looking like a sleepy little owl staring at him from behind her blanket. “I fell asleep,” she said in a drowsy voice, as if he hadn’t noticed.
Calvin’s heart gave a squeeze. There was a kind of intimacy to the moment, a stillness that felt precious and breakable. “You want to go to bed?”
She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “No. I want food.”
He hummed and set the boxes down on the coffee table before grabbing a new dish towel with which to wrap her ice pack. Daphne shifted on the sofa to give him room to sit down, but as soon as he did, the old, broken-down cushions dipped, and she fell into his side.
He froze for a second, but Daphne didn’t jump back from him. She just leaned forward to grab a slice of pizza, then settled back against the sofa, her side pressed firmly against his. Twitching the blanket so it covered his legs, Calvin grabbed a slice for himself. Daphne turned up the volume, and they chuckled as Ross made a disaster out of leather pants, baby powder, and lotion.
When the next episode came on, Daphne shifted, and her head dropped onto his shoulder. The weight of it was comforting, the scent of her hair a delicate perfume. Not wanting to move, Calvin stayed that way until his arm went numb, then slowly lifted his arm to put it around her shoulders. Daphne’s hand came up to rest against his stomach, and he was almost certain she was asleep as she nuzzled against his chest.
The right thing to do would be to wake her up and help her into the guest bedroom. But the couch was comfortable, she needed her rest, and Calvin told himself he’d finish watching the episode before disturbing her. If, in the process, he enjoyed the weight of her against his chest, and his own eyelids began to droop, well ... that was just a natural consequence of warmth and comfort. Nothing more. It had been so long since he’d cuddled with someone. So long since he’d felt the kind of peace that swept through him.
In the recesses of his mind, as his eyelids became heavier, Calvin knew he shouldn’t get used to this. Daphne was planning on leaving the island—planning on using him as an excuse to do it—and what was going on between them wasn’t real. But the weight and warmth of her on his chest were real. The soft breaths ruffling his neck were real. The drugging comfort of her presence was real.
Eyes closing, he let himself enjoy it. Just this once.
He jerked awake at the sound of his phone screaming in the silent room. Daphne sucked in a hard breath, pushing herself off his body. Digging into his pants, Calvin grabbed his phone and swiped to answer.
“Yeah?”
“Two simultaneous break-ins,” one of the deputies working the night shift informed him. “Figured you’d want to know right away. One at Barela Contracting, the other at Romano’s.”
Romano’s was an Italian restaurant only a few blocks away, in the heart of Carlisle. It was one of many eateries owned by the Deacons and had been closed for renovations during the slow winter months. He drove by it every morning on his way to the station.
“On my way,” he said. “I’ll stop at Romano’s first.”
“Copy.”
Daphne rubbed her eyes and stared as he heaved himself off the couch. “Is everything all right?” she asked.
“Couple of break-ins,” he said, heading for his boots. “Jerry Barela got hit, along with Romano’s.”
“Jerry Barela?”
“Mm.”
“That’s odd. You think it has anything to do with us?”
“No idea,” he said, but it was a valid question. Just a few days after they’d gone asking questions, the man got broken into?
Daphne’s brows were drawn. “What’s Romano’s?”
“One of the Deacons’ restaurants, over on Main. You need help getting to the bedroom? I might be gone a while.”
“I’ll be fine,” she answered, shifting her leg so her foot rested on the ground. “I can hobble. I’ll put all this away,” she said, motioning to the pizza boxes. “Any special rules about where things go in the kitchen, or do you trust me to use my judgment?”
Smart-ass. Calvin bit back a grin. “I trust you. Call me if you need anything. Your room is the first door on the left. There’s a spare toothbrush in the vanity. Help yourself to anything you need.” He gave her a nod, threw on his belt and badge, and grabbed his jacket. He was at Romano’s within seven minutes. A cruiser was parked out front, and the lights inside the restaurant were on. After parking behind the vehicle, Calvin went inside.
“Oh, Calvin!” Jenna Deacon threw herself at him, causing him to stagger into the windows at his back. “It’s awful ,” she said. “Just awful. Imagine if someone had been here!”
Using his hands to unclamp Jenna’s arms from his neck, Calvin pried himself free of her grip. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “I take it you’re managing this place?”
She sniffled and nodded. “My parents gave it to me to run. Once the renovations are done, I’ll be in charge of the restaurant.”
“Were you here when the break-in happened?”
“No. The alarm went off, and I was notified by the security company. They broke a window and came in through the back.”
Calvin nodded and crossed the room to get a report from the deputies on the scene. The front of the restaurant was unfinished, with bare drywall covering the walls and ceilings and drop cloths on the floor. The kitchen looked to be mostly finished, although it still needed to be stocked with food and cookware. It gleamed silver with stainless steel countertops and expensive-looking equipment.
He made his way to the staff bathroom, which was where the break-in had happened. The window at the back of the building, above the sink, was shattered.
“See? That’s where they came in,” Jenna said, pointing at the broken glass.
Calvin frowned as he inspected the scene. Shards of glass littered the sink and floor, but if someone had come in through the opening, they were either very small or they’d abandoned the endeavor as soon as they’d broken the window. No one could squeeze through that opening—the window didn’t open far enough to fit a human—and there was no evidence that someone had tried to squeeze their way inside.
He headed outside and inspected the alleyway at the back of the building. The doorway looked intact. No signs of forced entry. It was a thick steel door, so coming in through the window probably made sense. Picking the front lock would probably be a better bet, especially on a rainy night when everyone was indoors. But criminals weren’t always the brightest bulbs.
A dumpster had been pushed up next to the wall, just below the broken window. It was half-full of building supplies and the scraps of the workers’ lunches. An old, crusty mop was on the ground next to the dumpster, along with old food wrappers.
It was still raining, which meant any footsteps in the dirt and gravel were long gone. Calvin shone his flashlight all along the alleyway, then swung it up the wall and over the window.
He frowned.
A smudged, dirty handprint was visible on the wall just above the dumpster. It wasn’t a full handprint, just a few streaks that looked like four fingers and a thumb.
He returned to the restaurant.
“Was anything taken?” he asked Jenna.
Arms wrapped around her middle, she blinked at him with big brown eyes. “No,” she said. “We don’t even have any cash here, with the renovations ongoing.”
Nodding, Calvin did another walk-through. There were some tools stacked neatly in the corner. One of the tool bags was embroidered with Barela Contracting’s logo.
He jerked his chin at the bag. “Jerry Barela doing this renovation for you?”
“Yes,” Jenna answered. “He said he had another month of work to do, but he’s on schedule. Why? You think he did this?”
“I never said that. Would he have a reason to break in?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s done a good job so far.”
But why would Barela have a break-in on the very same night?
After leaving the rest of the deputies to finish up, Calvin made his way to the Barela Contracting yard. The parking lot was illuminated with floodlights, with another cruiser parked near the front door. He parked his truck next to it and paused when his phone buzzed.
Everything okay? Daphne wrote.
He stared at the words for a few long seconds. It was the first time anyone had checked up on him when he was on the job. It made a weight press down on his chest, and it was hard to breathe for a minute. She cared. No one had cared about him in a long, long time.
He shook his head. She was probably being polite. He was the one who was infatuated with her. The worst thing he could do was get carried away thinking she felt the same.
All good , he replied. How’s the ankle?
A photo message came through a second later, showing Daphne’s bare legs from the knee down, a fresh bag of ice on her ankle. She was in the spare bedroom.
His heart gave a hard thump. She’d taken her pants off? He sent her a picture of the Barela Contracting offices, but the camera focused on the rain dripping down his windshield, and the building beyond was blurry.
I’d rather be where I am , she wrote back, and sent him a photo of her face snuggled in a mountain of pillows.
He stared at the image until another message came through. Be safe, Flint.
Careful, Cupcake , he wrote back. It almost sounds like you care.
I just want to make sure I have a ride to work tomorrow morning , she answered.
He’d just snorted, thumbs poised over the keyboard, when a knock on his window made him jump. Teri stood outside his door, jerking her head toward the entrance to the contractor’s office.
“Hey,” he said, following her as they jogged to get out of the rain. “What’s the situation?”
“Come inside. The place was ransacked. Someone stole a bunch of files, along with Barela’s laptop.”
The man himself was standing in the middle of a mess of paperwork and office supplies, hands on his hips, thunderous expression on his brow. He turned when he saw Calvin and jerked his chin in acknowledgment.
“Sheriff,” Barela said in greeting. “Two visits in less than a week. Must be my lucky month.”
“Walk me through what happened.”
“Alarm went off. I drove straight over, was here within fifteen minutes. Didn’t see anyone coming or going, but I walked into this.”
“What was taken?”
“Some files and my laptop.”
“Tools? Equipment?”
“I’ll have to inventory the yard in the morning, but I don’t think so. They left the hard drive, so I still have all my documents. Looks like they only had time to ransack my files. We only keep current projects stored out here, and whoever did this didn’t make it to the back storeroom.” He bent over and picked up a quote written on his company’s letterhead. “Would this help you? It ain’t my shoe, and I don’t think it’s Teri’s either.”
Calvin took the sheet of paper from Barela. It had a dirty shoe print on it in the corner, and what looked like cat prints down the middle. Looked like Dumpling had either interrupted the burglar or come to investigate once he’d gone.
“It might,” Calvin said, studying the shoe print. Then his eyes skimmed the paper itself, and he noticed it was a quote for the Romano job. Teri put the paper in an evidence sleeve, along with any others they found that had been stepped on.
“You got insurance?” Calvin asked.
Jerry grunted. “Be bad business not to.”
“We’ll get you a report so you can make a claim.”
“Thanks,” the older man said as he surveyed the mess. His wedding ring glinted as he ran his fingers through his thick hair, barrel chest rising and falling with a deep sigh.
Would this man have broken into Romano’s and then staged this break-in to cover his tracks? Calvin didn’t think so, but it was something to keep in mind. Jerry Barela seemed like a straight shooter. He had a reputation for getting jobs done on time and on budget. He wasn’t cheap, but his business had lasted decades on the island through all kinds of economic cycles. Staging some kind of elaborate break-in at two locations didn’t seem like something he’d do.
Unless he’d been spooked by Calvin and Daphne’s first visit for some reason.
“You hear about the break-in at Romano’s?” Calvin probed.
The man grunted as he moved to his desk and dropped into his chair. “I’m heading over there as soon as we’re done here to check if all our tools are still there.”
“You think someone might have been targeting you?”
“Unless they wanted to haul out one of those twenty-thousand-dollar ovens, I don’t see what else there is to steal in that place, other than our gear. We’ve had tools and supplies go missing from jobsites many times over the years. And these days, with the cost of everything increasing, people get desperate.”
“Thanks, Jerry.” Calvin nodded, then went to see Teri. It would be a long night, and he wasn’t any closer to answering any of his questions.
Most of all, though, he wanted to go home to Daphne. A ridiculous thought, since he wasn’t going home to her at all. She just happened to be staying with him because he’d bullied her into it. Still, the thought of waking up in the morning and seeing that sleepy look on her face drove him on through the long, cold, rainy night.