Chapter 4 #2
The flashlight beam traveled over the verandah to the right of the door without pause before shifting to the left.
The round of illumination slowed before the cop aimed it at something.
Maia couldn’t see what from where she stood, and impatience sizzled low in her gut.
This was her home, and someone had come here intending to scare her.
She’d get security lights installed—the type that came on when something moved to set them off. That should deter any would-be tricksters or persons intent on burglary.
The pair returned to Maia, this time with long, hurried steps.
“It might be a prank,” Laura said. “But someone has gone to a considerable effort to scare you. There’s a mannequin on your porch with a pool of blood beneath it and a knife protruding from the head. We think the blood is animal in origin. Do you have any enemies?”
Maia scowled. “I don’t know anyone here apart from London, Gerard, and Henry. Oh, and the woman in the supermarket.”
“Ambar?”
“That’s her name,” Maia said. “What about smartarse teenagers? Isn’t that more likely? Few people know I’ve purchased a house here. It’s not a secret, but apart from my close friends in Auckland and the management at my rugby club in Dunedin, I haven’t given out my address.”
Laura nodded. “We’ll walk a circuit of your house, but there are no signs of anyone else here.”
“Thank you for coming so quickly,” Maia said. “I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time.”
“You did the right thing. It’s my job. I can also put out the word that this sort of prank is unacceptable.”
“If that’s what it is,” Laura’s husband said.
“You think it’s something else?” Maia demanded.
“We have no way of knowing why someone did this. We’re not jumping to conclusions.” Laura’s warning glance at her husband was fleeting, but Maia heard the nuances in that silent exchange.
Laura wasn’t confident this was a prank. The thought chilled Maia’s bones, and a shiver ran through her. While she loved writing her dangerous and adventurous tales, she didn’t want to live the same experience.
“I’d suggest you invest in security lights,” the man said.
“It’s on my list. It makes sense to increase security since I’ll be away a lot playing rugby.”
Laura’s eyebrows shot up. “You play rugby?”
Maia nodded. “I’ve signed with the Dunedin franchise.”
“Congratulations,” Laura said. “You must do a lot of training. You should get in touch with Isabella.”
Maia grinned. “Already done. Ambar recommended her, and I spoke to Isabella at the cafe.”
Laura’s husband sent her an appraising glance. “Isabella teaches self-defense to the local ladies. Get her to show you a few moves. She’s an expert and knows what she’s talking about.”
It was the most he’d said since their arrival.
“Thanks, I’ll do that.”
Laura’s husband hadn’t finished. “Gerard and Henry are security specialists, and I highly recommend them.”
Maia’s mind ran straight to Henry, and it was difficult to suppress a scowl.
Stupid her. She wanted the stubborn man.
Annoyingly, every time she thought about him, her mind darted straight to sex.
Maybe she should’ve hooked up with someone before she left Auckland.
But a part of her had hoped she’d see the fascinating Henry again.
The grumpy man.
Maia shook herself. Nope, she needed to stay away because he’d made his thoughts clear.
“I’ll talk to them,” she said, reminding herself to investigate other security avenues. She’d taken basic maintenance courses, so she didn’t need to count on others. That had been one valuable thing her aunt had taught her.
Laura nodded in approval. “We’ll walk around the house.”
“I’ll come with you,” Maia said.
Laura sent her another searching look before glancing at her husband. He shrugged.
“Stay close,” Laura said, and it was an order.
Maia nodded and fell in behind. She followed Laura, and Laura’s husband took up the rear. It took long seconds for Maia’s eyes to adjust to the darkness. She blundered after Laura, her feet crunching on gravel until the long grass masked her clumsiness.
“Someone has walked around your house recently,” Laura said.
“Tonight,” Laura’s husband said in his deep voice.
“I haven’t explored the gardens yet,” Maia said, a thread of tension running through her. “When I arrived this afternoon, I checked the house’s interior. Nothing more.”
Laura shone her flashlight from left to right, and Maia spotted the path through the long grass.
When Laura shifted the torch to scan the house, she noted the windows were intact.
Laura turned a corner to the rear. A rotary clothesline, the lines droopy, sat at the end of a narrow path, and farther away, a water tank.
Maia lurched forward, her foot catching on a broken slice of the pavement before she regained her balance.
A hand grasped her forearm, steadying her.
“You okay?” a masculine voice asked.
“Wasn’t looking where I was going,” Maia murmured. “Sorry.”
He released her. “No problem.”
Laura cursed, attracting their attention.
“What—?” Maia started before she spotted the reason for Laura’s consternation.
Someone had tagged her house, the words Die Bitch, difficult to miss.