11. Chapter Eleven #2
For the first time, she noticed how his presence was a comfort to her. The realization shocked her to the point that she gasped.
“What’s wrong?” Parker turned to her. “Did you cut yourself?”
She shook her head as she held up her hand, as though to check for a cut. “I’m okay.”
She got back to work. As angry as she was with the person who had broken into her home, she blamed herself more. She should have taken the ornaments off the tree after the first break-in. She should have foreseen an accident like this. This whole mess was her fault.
“I should have known better,” she muttered to herself.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Are you blaming yourself?”
“Yes.” The word popped out of her mouth before she could stop it. But it felt good to admit it. And so she kept going. “I should have known better than to put those ornaments on the tree.”
“Whoa. Slow down.” He sat back on his heels. “What is the point of having something special—something beautiful—if you never get to see it because it’s always in a box?”
“You sound like my mother.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “But if they had been in a box, they wouldn’t be ruined.”
He reached over and gave her a one-arm hug. “This isn’t your fault. It’s the suspect’s. And I promise you that we’re going to find him, and he is going to pay for what he’s done.”
They finished picking up as much as they could. Parker got to his feet with the box in his hands. “What would you like me to do with this?”
She shrugged. “It’s not like I can repair any of it.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him to put the box in the garbage. Instead she said, “Just make it go away.”
He solemnly nodded his head.
While he took care of the box, she straightened the tree.
She took the remaining ornaments off the tree.
She was sad that so few had survived. She carefully took them and placed them on the kitchen island.
She proceeded to wrap them in paper towels before placing them in a large rectangular plastic box with a lid.
In the meantime, Parker inquired about the vacuum. She told him it was in the hall closet. She was surprised when he set to work vacuuming the floor. She thought he’d want to go to sleep. He probably did, but he wasn’t going to leave her to do this on her own.
She stepped into the living room. When he saw her, he turned off the vacuum. Before he could say anything, she said, “You need to rest.”
“I’m not resting until you do.”
She opened her mouth to tell him she still had the upstairs to clean up, but she wordlessly pressed her lips together.
He was injured and needed to rest. That was more important than the fact that she didn’t think she’d be able to sleep that night.
All the events of the evening were still rolling around in her mind.
“Fine,” she said. “We’re done for tonight.” Her gaze met his. “Thank you for…” She recalled the image of him kneeling beside her and picking up broken pieces of ornaments, but she couldn’t vocalize her feelings in that moment. “For everything.”
He stepped closer to her. “Are you going to be all right? I know how much those heirlooms meant to you.”
She nodded, not trusting her voice. She moved to the stairs and rushed up them, needing a moment by herself to gather her feelings. When she reached the landing, she came to a sudden halt. A gasp tore from her lungs.
“Belle?” Hurried footsteps sounded. Parker stopped right behind her. “What’s…”
He grew quiet as he took in the sight with her. Her belongings were thrown across the hallway in a haphazard fashion. There were random holes in the wall as though someone had been in a rage and punched it. The pictures on the wall were smashed. Broken glass was scattered all over the floor.
This on top of the destroyed ornaments made her stomach take a nauseous lurch. She pressed a hand to her mid-section as tears rushed to her eyes. She blinked repeatedly. Why was this happening to her?
She took a step forward. The crunch of broken glass sounded under her shoe.
“Stop.” Parker reached out for her arm.
“No.” She pushed his arm away.
Cold dread inched down her spine and consumed her as she stepped toward her bedroom. The closer she got to the doorway, the worse the mess. Dread settled in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the destruction of her home.
It wasn’t just glass on the floor; there were clothes, books, and all sorts of things scattered over the floor. When she reached her bedroom doorway, she once more came to a stop. Her blood ran cold as her stomach took another nauseous lurch.
It looked like a tornado had blown through the room.
Her bed was literally torn apart. The mattress was thrown against one wall while the box spring was against another wall.
The quilt her mother had made her was twisted and tangled around the headboard.
Tears rushed to her eyes as her throat tightened, holding back the rush of emotions.
She didn’t understand. Why was this happening? What did she do to this person for them to invade her home, take her dog, and destroy her sense of security?
Parker stepped up behind her. His arms wrapped around her chest and gently pulled her back until her head was resting against his broad chest. The heat of his body radiated to her, warming her.
“Wh-Why?” Her mind struggled to make sense of the mess before her. Then again, she wasn’t sure any of this was ever going to make sense.
“I don’t know.” His voice was soft and caring as he tightened his arms around her. “I will catch them. They left a lot of evidence behind this time.”
She closed her eyes, blocking out the damage. Her heart ached. Where was Odie? Would she ever see him again?
“Belle, I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but everything is going to work out.” There was a certainty to his voice.
She wanted to believe him, but when she opened her eyes, she was faced with the harsh reality. “You don’t know that.”
“I’ve never been so determined to solve a case in my life.”
She turned in his arms so she could look into his eyes. “Who does something like this?” Her voice cracked with emotion. “Why me? Why my puppy?”
“I don’t know.” Compassion shone in his eyes. “I…” His gaze lowered to her lips and lingered. “I don’t know.”
She accepted that. Neither one of them had the answers…at least not yet. But she believed they would catch the dognapper and get Odie back.
Her gaze took in the lines on Parker’s face and his bloodshot eyes. He was tired. And then there were the stitches and his black eye.
Of their own volition, her fingers reached up to his injured eye. She made sure not to touch the bruised skin. Her fingertips grazed his jaw.
Her gaze returned to his. “How bad does it hurt?”
“It’s fine.”
Fine wasn’t an answer. She felt guilty. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been injured.”
He shrugged. “It’s just part of the job. I’ll be fine.”
Her fingertips continued to trace the side of his chiseled face. It was as if she couldn’t help herself. She was drawn to him in a way that she’d never been attracted to anyone else. When her fingers neared his lips, she was tempted to trace them too.
He sucked in a deep breath. In the next breath, he broke their connected gaze. He released her and took a step back. He felt something growing between them. She could see it in his eyes.
He glanced down as he cleared his throat. “We should go back downstairs. We can sleep at my place.”
“No.” The answer was quick and firm. When he sent her a questioning look, she said, “This jerk has taken my dog. He’s destroyed my family heirlooms. He… I don’t know what he was doing in my bedroom. I’m not letting him run me out of my own home.”
Parker hesitated. “I understand.”
She led the way back downstairs. She had some fresh clothes in the laundry room. After she changed into an old, comfy T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, she joined Parker in the living room.
He finished fixing up the couch with a blanket and pillow. He turned to her. “Here you go.”
She was touched by his gesture. “Thank you. But you take the couch.”
He arched a brow. “Where are you planning to sleep?”
She pointed to the navy-blue oversized armchair with a matching ottoman. It was her cozy spot where she liked to get lost in the pages of a good romance. “It’s my favorite spot.”
“But it’s a chair.”
“A very comfortable chair.” She always kept a red and white log cabin quilt hung over the back of the chair.
His gaze searched hers. She stared directly back at him. Her gaze was unwavering as she crossed her arms.
He sighed. “You aren’t going to change your mind, are you?”
She shook her head. “You’re the one with your head stitched together. Not me.”
“Fine. But I’m doing this under protest.”
With only the soft glow from the light above the kitchen sink, they both settled in for what was left of the wintry night.
Belle found herself grateful for the quilt because once she sat down, she noticed the cold seeping into her bones.
If she remembered correctly the forecast said the temperature was supposed to dip down into the single digits.
Ugh. And this was only the beginning of winter.
She was determined to stay awake and watch over Parker, since he had a concussion. Yet, the darkness called to her, and her eyelids grew heavy. At one point, they drifted shut. A few moments later, she opened them. She yawned. This was going to be the longest night of her life.
She listened to his deep, even breaths. At least one of them was getting some rest. She knew if she just sat there in the dark doing nothing, she would be fast asleep in no time.
She reached for her phone. She curled up in the chair and pulled up a book on her phone. It didn’t take her long to get lost in the words. The only problem was that her eyelids were so heavy, and she was having a problem staying focused on the words. And every minute or two a yawn would plague her.
Still, she persisted. She wouldn’t fall asleep. She yawned again. The words on her phone blurred. She blinked, and they came back into focus. And then she began to read again.