Chapter 5
Maia gaped, trying to wrap her head around what she was seeing. She could count the number of people who’d known she was moving to Middlemarch on one hand.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
Laura patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll take photos tomorrow morning when the light is better. We might discover clear footprints since it rained two days ago.”
“Thank you,” Maia said, still eyeing the words written in blood-red paint.
Laura continued their walk around the house, her pace slower now that they’d discovered the graffiti. When they arrived back at their starting point, Laura turned to her. “All the windows and doors appear secure. If you want, we can walk through the interior before we leave.”
“Thanks. I’ll sleep better if I’m certain no one is skulking in the wardrobe. They can’t hide under my bed because my furniture hasn’t arrived yet.”
Laura laughed while her husband released a chuckle.
“Fair enough,” Laura said.
Maia retrieved her handbag from her vehicle and locked it before walking up the footpath.
“Step over the blood,” Laura instructed. “I want to take more photos in the morning.”
Maia suppressed a shudder. “Are you sure the blood isn’t real?”
“Animal blood,” Laura’s husband said, his tone positive.
“Someone killed an animal to scare me?” The creature must be dead, given the amount of blood on her footpath.
“Not necessarily,” Laura said. “There are places to get blood. A butcher or a farm.”
“Oh,” Maia said in an understatement. If someone was trying to scare her, they were succeeding.
The three searched the sparsely furnished house, looking inside wardrobes and behind the plastic shower curtain. Maia searched the compact laundry. Thankfully, they didn’t discover a single bloody footprint or any other sign that someone had broken into her home.
“Call if you need me,” Laura ordered as she left. “I’m ten minutes away. I’ll come around nine tomorrow morning to take more photos and do another walk around.”
“Thank you,” Maia said, grateful because the police weren’t always prompt in the city.
“Lock the door after us,” Jonno said.
Maia rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to tell me twice. It was at the top of my to-do list.”
Laura chortled. “A woman who doesn’t take crap. I like it.”
The pair left, and Maia locked the door, still trying to understand why someone was taunting her. None of her friends who knew her plans would pull this stunt. She frowned as she ambled to the kitchen to make tea. But Samuel…
Every muscle in her body pulled tight, and tension locked into place in her chest. Her ex-boyfriend hadn’t taken their breakup well.
At first, everything had gone well between them.
They’d had rugby in common and were both rising stars.
Then Sam had suffered an injury during a hard tackle, and she’d discovered his nasty side.
She’d stuck with him through his physiotherapy and rehab, telling herself it was frustration making his temper fray.
He didn’t mean the wounding words. But when he’d used his fists, she’d told him to take a hike.
One punch was the only free shot he’d get.
Maia reached for the kettle and clenched her fingers when she noted the distinct tremor. Sam hadn’t taken rejection well and had made her life hell, spreading vicious rumors when he’d understood she had no intention of reconciliation.
If there was one thing her aunt had done, it was to help her grow a hard outer shell. That had come in handy with Sam.
Perhaps she should’ve mentioned Sam to Laura, but the unexpectedness of the situation had shaken her.
Tomorrow, she decided, when Laura returned to take photos.
She plugged the kettle in and flicked the on switch, letting it do its thing while she searched her box of supplies.
Too much caffeine this late at night wasn’t sensible, but she doubted she’d sleep with dozens of questions lurching around her head.
First, she’d check on Sam’s whereabouts.
One of her friends would know. She picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts, pausing at one before deciding on her second choice.
She didn’t want news of this communication to reach Sam.
Bryce wouldn’t blab because he and Samuel had their problems.
The kettle whistled, steam billowing above the spout before the power clicked off. Maia chose a peppermint tea bag, shoved it in her favorite travel mug, and topped the container with water. Immediately, the scent of peppermint rose, and her muscles relaxed at the familiar ritual.
Maia pressed call and listened to the ringtone while she waited for Bryce to answer.
“Maia? Is something wrong?”
A burst of music and loud voices told her Bryce was at the corner pub for the one beer he allowed himself after training. Maia closed her eyes, comforted by her friend’s caring. “No. Well, nothing life-threatening. Do you know where Sam is tonight?”
“We finished training an hour ago. Why? Has he done something?” Bryce’s voice hardened into protective.
Maia allowed herself a smile. She almost wished there was a romantic spark between them, but they were better friends than lovers, and both knew it. “Not if he was at training.”
The background noise faded, replaced by the honk of a horn. “What’s going on?” Bryce’s voice was sharp, demanding answers.
“Someone tagged my house,” she said, choosing her words carefully because she didn’t want Bryce to race to her rescue.
She didn’t require a man for security. No, she wanted a man for vigorous, hot, sweaty sex.
Her mind slid to Henry with his stern face and his narrowed gaze.
His muscular body. A sigh escaped, and she shut down that yearning.
Given his reaction to her today, there was no chance of friendship, casual or otherwise.
“Did you report it?”
“Yes.” She hoped the curt note in her voice let him know precisely how insulted she felt at his question.
“Right. Sorry. You’re the smartest woman I know. Of course, you reported it. What did the cops say?”
“It’s pitch black in the countryside. She took photos, checked the perimeter, and searched my house to make sure I didn’t imagine monsters under the bed. Not that I have beds at the moment.”
“She?”
Maia laughed. “Yeah, she arrived with her big, protective husband.”
“Damn, I miss all the kick-arse women. They get snapped up quickly. I guess I’ll have to continue my search. Are you sure—?”
Maia cut him off with a laugh, glad she’d called him. “Quit being a goof. Laura said she’d return in the morning and inspect the evidence in daylight. You’re one of the few people who know where I’ve moved, so I don’t understand why someone would target me.”
“Did the tagging occur before or after you moved in?”
“After, which makes it feel more personal.”
“What did the taggers write?”
“Die bitch.”
Bryce sighed. “Who have you pissed off?”
“I’ve been keeping my head down.” She’d had a writing deadline. “I had to pack my stuff and organize shipping. Then there was the legal stuff, quotes for insurance, and a hundred and one other things, including training.”
“Which is why you called to check on Sam.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, unless he organized someone to do his dirty work, that arrogant prick is in the clear. I can’t see it though. Sam takes pleasure in the personal approach. Nah, he wouldn’t hire someone to mess with you.”
Maia pushed out a breath. An understatement, not that she’d tell Bryce. “Yeah, he’s more likely to take a direct approach and tell me to my face.”
“You mean the man lacks finesse.”
“If Sam isn’t responsible, I don’t know what’s happening. My gut tells me this is more than a stupid prank, which was my initial conclusion.” Maia yawned, the audible sound reaching Bryce.
“Try to sleep. Call me tomorrow and let me know what the cops say. I’ll monitor Sam, but he has a big game in two days. I doubt he’ll be traipsing around the country to get back at you.”
“You’re right. His love for rugby is as huge as his pride. I do need to go to bed. Moving the length of the country is tiring.”
“And you miss me,” he teased.
“True,” she said with a smile. “I’ll call tomorrow. Thanks for talking me off the ledge.”
Bryce snorted. “What ledge? You sound like your normal self. You’re always calm and level-headed. Don’t forget to call me.” He hung up abruptly, making her chuckle.
They held an ongoing contest over who hung up first without being rude. Maia set down her phone and took a sip of tea, the tension she’d experienced earlier a mere shadow. She checked the time and resolved to write before climbing into bed.
Maia retrieved her laptop and set it up at the kitchen table. The wooden chair wasn’t ideal, but her desk and ergonomically designed chair would arrive tomorrow with the other basic furniture she’d purchased before leaving Auckland.
Minutes later, she was deep in her world of witches and dragons and magic-wielding sorcerers with evil on their minds.
The words flowed, but gradually, the discomfort of aching muscles seeped into her consciousness and interfered with her progress.
She raised her hands above her head, hoping to unkink enough to finish the chapter.
Muttering in frustration, she stood and prowled the length of the kitchen before noticing the quietness compared to the apartment where she’d lived in Auckland.
The tap at the kitchen sink dripped, and the old refrigerator hummed and clacked in a haphazard rhythm.
No traffic sounds cut through the countryside.
No arguments from the couple next door in their on-and-off relationship. No loud screams of make-up pleasure.
She recalled the weeks spent in this house with her aunt and the frightening timber creaks during the night.
The first time she’d heard the sound, she’d rushed to her aunt’s bedroom—a mistake she’d never repeated after the older woman had sternly told her there was no such thing as monsters.
She was weak like her parents. If she didn’t use her brain, she’d end up dead like them.
Her aunt had held no softness, no compassion as she’d dragged Maia back to bed and told her not to move until morning.
Maia rubbed her arms, hugging herself and recalling those pincer hands bruising her flesh.
Aunt Beatrice had been a cruel woman, disappointed in love and life, and she’d allowed that emotion to fester, making herself and everyone around her miserable.
As an adult, Maia understood this, but she remembered the terrified child she’d been, missing her parents and thrust into another life.
Aunt Beatrice had hated her. In hindsight, she’d been lucky her parents had arranged for her to attend a boarding school.
Maia had found friends and made her own family.
A foreign sound came, and she listened closely, frowning. What was that noise? And why was the hair at her nape standing on end? She took two steps toward the door before good sense kicked into gear. Roaming outside wasn’t sensible, given what had happened tonight.
A pained whimper cut through the silence, and Maia stiffened. What the hell? She was moving before the thought even registered. As she approached her front door, she paused again, her hand on the lock.
The cry repeated, and the terror in that sound had her unlocking the door and bursting outside.
It was an animal of some type, and Maia couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
With her heart pounding, she listened and orientated herself.
There! Over to her right in the long grass, near the big totara tree.
Maia took off at a run, her eyes rapidly adjusting to the darkness.
The sounds came closer together, and the fear tore at her heart.
At the base of the tree—a trap that held a tiny white animal.
Blood flecked its fur, and its cries were pitiful.
Maia slid to a stop by the trap and crouched. It was a tiny puppy and in a bad way.
“You poor thing,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes. Her hands hovered above the puppy as she hesitated, unsure where to start with the complicated trap. “There should be a special place in hell reserved for those who hurt defenseless—” She broke off on sensing someone behind her.
Stupid. So stupid.
She’d done the one thing she’d promised Laura she wouldn’t do.
Maia rose from her crouch and whirled, but it was too late.
The blow on her head had her seeing stars, the ripple of pain instantaneous.
A powerful strike on her hamstring caused her to fall, and she thumped her skull against the tree trunk.
Maia breathed hard, her leg and her head a fiery blaze of pain.
Her vision turned black at the edges, overtaking her in a wavelike surge, and she fell into unconsciousness.