Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
EVERETT
I whip out my cell phone the second Vivian and Mateo are inside. Though I keep a gun locked in a safe inside my bedroom, the one in my rig is closer, so I hurry toward it.
“Rumsey,” Zach answers. “What’s up?”
I scan the driveway and my quiet street on my way past Vivian’s car, but there’s nothing out of place. Most of my neighbors have kids, and it being a school night, I’m not surprised none of them are outside at this hour.
“You’re on duty tonight, right?” I ignore what’s scrawled on the Kia’s hood, but my fist clenches and there’s a tight sensation in my chest, making it hard to get a full breath.
SLUT.
How the fuck did this happen?
“Yeah.” His tone has turned guarded.
“Can you swing by my place? Looks like someone vandalized a car in my driveway.”
“Shit, when?”
I unlock my rig and open the back hatch. “Within the last few hours.” After the streets emptied and the houses buttoned up for the night.
In the background, the acceleration of Zach’s engine fills the silence. “On my way.”
I set my phone down inside my trunk then sling my hip harness into place. After checking my weapon, I holster it and shut my SUV’s hatch. I feel safer now that I’m armed, but it’s not helping the anger itching under my skin.
I’m not just pissed off that this happened—in my fucking driveway, of all places—I’m pissed off that Vivian had to see it.
I tap my index finger against the paint. It’s dry, which helps narrow the window a little. Spray paint dries in thirty minutes or less.
It’s so vulgar, so full of hatred. I watch the quiet street again, but nothing has changed. My neighbor two doors down sometimes walks her dog at this hour. I’ll need to ask her if she saw anyone. The other neighbors too. But first I need to make sure whoever stopped by isn’t still here. I sweep the far side of my house, then do a careful inspection of the backyard, then swing around to the front yard, but I don’t find anything. Not even footprints in the grass.
After holstering my weapon, I search for the discarded spray paint cans, but come up empty.
Zach cruises down my street.
He parks on the curb and steps out. My anxiety drops another notch with him here. It means I can go back inside and talk with Vivian. Tell her how we’re going to handle this.
Zach walks over. “Is this Vivian’s car?”
“Yeah.”
When his gaze lands on the paint, he winces. “Jesus.” He grips his waist and takes a slow scan of the nearby houses. “No sign of them?”
“No.”
“You have a Ring doorbell, right?”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t cover the driveway.” I wish our rigs had motion-activated cameras to monitor activity like the big-city departments do. “I’ll have a look later. ”
He cocks his head. “Who would do this?”
“I don’t know.” Kids have been known to spray paint the bridge, and occasionally vehicles parked overnight with FOR SALE signs in the windows. But I don’t think this is kids playing some prank. If so, my garage and truck and SUV would have gotten hit too. And if this was some kind of targeted attack at me because I’m a cop, why would they scrawl this ugly word on Vivian’s car?
“You think this is related to the break in at her trailer?”
“The thought crossed my mind, yeah.” It turns my stomach.
“It would put all that destruction in a new light.”
“True.” There are plenty of other possibilities, too, but before I start down that road, I need to make sure Vivian is okay.
“What’s the plan?” he crosses his arms.
“Obviously I want to be involved,” I say. “But it’s complicated.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Like, that kind of complicated?”
I wipe down my chin and sigh.
He gives me a slow nod. “Okay.”
“I need to go back in, make sure everyone’s okay. And see if Vivian can shed any light on this.”
“Let’s do it.” He falls in next to me. “You have room in that garage?”
“I’ll make room.” He’s read my mind because I’ll be putting the Kia out of service until further notice. In the meantime, I’ll loan her my truck.
“Good. Let me know if you need help scrubbing that paint off.”
“Thanks.”
Back inside, Vivian is with Mateo in the family room. Logan is on the floor with Mateo, helping him build a multicolored Lego contraption, but the instant Zach and I walk in, he shoots me an anxious glance.
Guilt digs into my gut. I hate that he’s been worried. “What’s going on, Dad?”
“Vivian’s car got vandalized,” I say. “Everything’s okay though. Whoever did it is gone. ”
Matty looks up, both hands grasping green Lego blocks. “What’s vandalized?” He articulates the word slowly, like he’s processing the sound as he speaks it.
“Someone put paint on it,” I say.
Mateo frowns, then goes back to building, while Logan’s eyes flash with confusion. He sees that I’m armed and Zach’s here, two things that don’t fit with this being something as benign as a paint spill.
“So, like to be mean?” Logan asks.
“Yes,” I say. I’ll have to give him more later, when I can talk to him alone.
Zach sends Vivian a pointed glance. “Think we could chat a minute?”
By the time Zach returns with Vivian, it’s almost eleven o’clock. I send Logan upstairs to get ready for bed. “Thanks for hanging with Mateo, bud,” I say.
He gives me a pleading glance but stands up and does as I ask.
Vivian is crouched down with Mateo, talking in low tones.
“You okay to stay here tonight?” I ask her.
She glances up, surprise in her expression. “Can we?”
“There’s a queen-sized futon in my office. It doubles as the guest bedroom. Will that be okay?”
“Yes. Thank you,” she says in a weary tone.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” Zach says to me, and heads down the hallway.
“Where are your keys?” I ask Vivian once he’s gone. “I’m going to put your car in the garage.”
“In my purse.”
“Okay.” I walk to the hall closet and grab sheets, then step into my office. I always put away my case files and anything else I bring home before I leave this room, so the desk is bare. I don’t want Logan or his friends to ever get accidentally exposed to the ugly parts of my job.
While Vivian and Mateo disappear into the bathroom, I quickly make up the bed, pulling down a comforter from the closet, and the pillows.
When Vivian reappears, her hand on Mateo’s shoulder, backlit by the hallway light, the distress is clear on her face.
I pull her into my arms. She sighs against me, resting her head in the crook of my shoulder for an instant. “We can talk in the morning, okay?” I say in her ear. “You’re safe here.”
She nods and I kneel down and pull Mateo to my chest. He wraps his arms around my neck, his warm breath on my cheek. I rub his back, grounding my emotions in the knowledge that they’re both secure in my house tonight.
I stand up and rub the top of Mateo’s head.
“Need anything else?” I ask Vivian.
She shakes her head. “We’ll be fine.”
“Sleep tight,” I tell them. Then I slip from the room.
Outside, the autumn chill bites my hot face and neck. A steady breeze has kicked up, shifting the pine boughs in the trees and casting wavy shadows across the pavement.
Zach steps out of his rig. “I’ll dust for prints in the morning,” he says when we meet at the back of Vivian’s Kia.
“Thanks for taking this on,” I say.
He nods. “You doing okay?”
“No,” I say with a scoff. “Someone with malicious intent was in my driveway and I didn’t even know it. That doesn’t sit well with me.”
“I get that.” He grimaces. “Any chance you were the intended target here?”
“Everyone knows what I drive.” I try to soften the bite in my tone with a full breath. “Sorry. You mean like someone hit Vivian’s car to get my attention?”
“You have any recent break-ups?” he asks .
“Not recent.”
Zach arches an eyebrow.
“I don’t really date.”
Zach brings out his notebook and a pen. “Maybe dating is the wrong word?”
“My most recent ended a year and a half ago. Shawna Farrell.”
He gives me a pointed glance. “Didn’t she try to get arrested?”
I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah.”
Zach scribbles in his notebook. “Anyone else?”
I give him a few names, but it’s been a long time since I contacted any of the women on the list.
“Whoever it is,” Zach adds when he’s done writing, “they’re pretty fucking ballsy.”
He’s right. The higher risk of striking at a cop’s house didn’t deter them. “Or nuts.”
“What’s your gut say?” Zach asks.
“It’s not a neighbor. And if it’s retaliation from someone I popped, they’d go for my rig. Or my garage door.” And they’d write “pig” or some other slur. “This has to have something to do with Vivian.”
Those worries I’ve been pushing aside fight to the surface of my thoughts. Are we right back where we started, with her secrets putting us both at risk?
Is there someone else in the picture besides her ex?
Linden’s warning starts flashing in my mind. When are you gonna learn that not every drowning kitten needs saving, bro?
Fuck!
“Who knows that you two are involved?” Zach asks.
I cross my arms and huff a long breath at the sky. “It’s pretty new, and it’s not like I go around sharing that kind of thing,” I say.
Zach flips his notebook shut and tucks it away. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Talk to the neighbors. Follow up on some of these names.”
“Thanks, Zach. ”
“Get some rest.” He heads for his rig. Once he’s pulling away, I give him a wave, then return to the house. Inside, I slip off my shoes, then walk into the kitchen for a glass of water, being careful to stay quiet. In the dark of the kitchen, I review the Ring footage on my phone.
Nothing happens until 7:06. My porch light comes on and Vivian steps out. I don’t remember her leaving the house, but I was in the backyard starting the fire around that time.
Two minutes and eleven seconds later, she returns, holding Mateo’s coat. Which makes sense. I don’t remember seeing that coat before we went outside to roast s’mores.
I let the rest of the footage play, but a detail from Vivian’s trip outside acts like a distraction. What took her so long to get Matty’s coat?
The Ring footage is set to record only motion-activated events, like someone coming to the door or when the outside lights get triggered. Because of the breeze, birds and other animals, people walking by, those lights come on for reasons that don’t necessarily indicate an intruder. But I note the times when they do: after Vivian’s back inside at 7:08 and before I escorted her back out at almost nine, the lights over my garage come on three times. I send Zach a text with this info. I’ll get more official later.
I set my empty glass of water aside and dig out Vivian’s keys from her purse, then return to my driveway. The garage opens, flooding my driveway with light. Down the street, a dog starts barking. Inside my garage, I move bikes and our recycle bin to make room, then get behind the wheel of Vivian’s Kia. There’s a hint of her scent here, and little personal details I can’t help but drink in. The tube of pomegranate lip balm and a pack of spearmint gum resting in the little cup below the stereo, a crack in her dashboard from sun exposure, maybe from her time in California. The blank rental application form on the passenger seat.
After scooting the seat back, I turn the key and the kid’s music she likes to play for Matty fills the car. I turn the knob down, then drive her car into my garage and shut off the engine. When I step out, I give the backseat a quick scan. Besides Mateo’s booster, a handful of wrappers in the seat pockets, and two library books, it’s empty.
Once I’m back inside the house, I check the lock on the patio and the windows, then climb the stairs. When I peek into Logan’s room, it’s dark and the slow rhythm of his breathing tells me he’s asleep.
When I finally slip beneath the covers, I stare at the ceiling, knowing that sleep won’t be as easy for me tonight.
Did Vivian bring this on? What else is she hiding from me?