12. Chapter Twelve
Chapter Twelve
H is head hurt.
His neck had a crick in it. And his back ached from the lumpy couch. Even so, he wouldn’t be anywhere else.
The following morning, Parker glanced over at Belle. She was curled up beneath the red and white quilt. She had a peaceful look on her face. He was grateful she was able to rest and not have nightmares about the break-ins.
She must have been exhausted, because she didn’t move when he got up.
He grabbed a shower and put on fresh clothes from the duffel bag he’d grabbed at his place.
When he came downstairs, Belle was still asleep, but she appeared to have a frown on her face.
He thought of rousing her but decided that her sleep took priority.
He grabbed his coat and cell phone. Out on the back porch, he rang the sheriff’s office. The conversation was brief. The ATV was reported stolen a couple of days ago from a nearby town. His deputy talked to the owner, but they didn’t have a clue who had taken it.
The prints matched the prior ones. It would appear there was only one suspect. As before, the prints didn’t get any hits in AFIS (Automated Fingerprint Identification System).
Most career criminals would have been in and out without wasting their time tearing the house apart.
A professional would know the longer they were in the house, the greater the chance they’d be caught.
This person was a novice, which meant they’d make more mistakes.
That was how they were going to catch them.
His people had also checked with local ERs and veterinarian offices to see if anyone showed up in need of stitches in their hands or arms. So far, they didn’t have a lead.
He stepped back inside the cozy warm kitchen.
After ditching his coat and boots, he washed up.
Then he glanced in the fridge. When he closed the door, he noticed the colorful invitation to the Kringle’s party.
This must be how the suspect knew Belle had planned to attend.
That answered one of his many questions.
He continued searching through the cabinets. He was trying to come up with an idea of what to make for breakfast. When he saw the syrup, he knew what to make…pancakes. Everybody liked those, right?
With the flour, sugar, vanilla, eggs, butter, and milk on the counter, he set to work. But with it being the holiday season, he felt as though he should do a little extra. He wanted to bring back a little holiday spirit for Belle.
A little bit later, he had a stack of pancakes. Feeling pleased with himself for not burning any of them, he walked back into the living room.
He really didn’t want to disturb her, but he had to leave to head to the office. There were reports he needed to review. He didn’t want to leave her alone, but he also wanted to catch the person who had been tormenting her.
He knelt down beside her. He couldn’t resist moving a long lock of her silky auburn hair from her face. “Belle?”
She didn’t respond.
He tried again. “Belle, breakfast is ready.”
Her eyes fluttered open. At first, she looked at him with a blank stare. It made him think of his mother’s old saying: the lights are on, but no one’s home. It definitely described Belle in that moment.
She blinked a couple of times and yawned. It was then that he realized he’d forgotten something.
“I’ll be right back.” He straightened and went into the kitchen. He grabbed a mug and filled it with some fresh-brewed coffee. He added some creamer and sweetener, just like he’d seen her do. Then he returned to the living room to find that Belle hadn’t moved.
He held the cup out to her. “You might want this.”
A smile lifted her rosy lips. “Thank you.”
When she reached out to take the mug, their fingers touched. It was as though static electricity entered his fingertips and worked its way up his arm. The sensation settled in his chest and set his heart pounding.
His gaze met and held hers. She was so beautiful and not just on the outside. Any man would be lucky to have a woman like her in their life, but that man wasn’t him. They’d always been opposites. And that hadn’t changed over the years.
He knew all about opposites. His last relationship had ended because his fiancée said he was too stuck in his ways. She needed someone who wanted some adventure in his life.
Parker got enough adventure just doing his job. From dealing with wildlife that ended up in wrong places to pulling over a car for a moving violation. He always wondered what sort of person he was going to face. Overwhelmingly, the people were reasonable, but you just never knew.
His gaze moved to where his fingertips were still touching hers. It felt like time had stood still, and yet it had only been a mere couple of seconds. His heart was still hammering in his chest. He pulled his hand back, breaking the connection.
Without a word, he straightened. He strode into the kitchen, where he at last was able to take a deep breath. What was wrong with him? He was acting like he was back in high school when he’d had the biggest crush on her. But that was ages ago.
He moved to the fridge and grabbed the butter.
He placed it on the table along with the syrup.
While he stayed busy, he forced his thoughts to the case—the whole reason they were near inseparable.
If he could solve this case, he could go back to his solitary life and forget about the way she felt in his arms or how he could so easily lose himself in those mesmerizing blue eyes of hers.
Just then he heard the shuffling of feet. He glanced up to find a sleepy Belle headed toward him. She looked so adorable with a rosy hue in her cheeks and her hair mussed up. She looked much more relatable than her usual polished appearance.
When she took a seat at the table, he asked, “Would you like some pancakes?”
Her eyes widened. “You made pancakes?” When he nodded, she asked, “But how? I’m out of pancake mix.”
He grinned. “I made it from scratch.”
She shrugged. “I never knew a guy who was such a good cook.”
“Then you’ve been hanging out with the wrong guys.” And in that moment, he knew he meant it. He wanted her to continue to hang out with him, but how long would that work before she made an exit like his ex?
She turned the plate around and gaped when she looked at the pancake. “You made a Santa hat pancake?” She continued to stare at it. “You even made his hat red.”
“Uh-huh. Thought you needed some holiday cheer. I would have put whipped cream on the tassel and the rim, but you didn’t have any. Maybe next time.” He couldn’t believe he’d added that last part. It wasn’t like he was going to have an opportunity to make her pancakes again.
He remembered how much it had hurt when Lori dumped him.
Of course, if he’d paid attention to his relationship, he would have seen the signs.
But they’d been together almost two years by then, and he’d let himself get comfortable in the relationship—obviously too comfortable.
He’d just taken it for granted that they’d get married and grow old together. He’d never been more wrong.
It took him a couple of tries to find the correct cabinet to retrieve a plate. And then he served himself a pancake. He sat down beside her at the table.
After taking her first bite, he noticed she didn’t eat anymore. He tasted his pancake to make sure he hadn’t mixed up the sugar and salt. Nope. It wasn’t that. Then again, maybe she just didn’t like pancakes.
“Can I make you something else?” he asked.
She looked at him with a blank expression on her face, as though she had been lost in her thoughts and hadn’t heard him.
He tried again. “Do you want something else to eat? Just name it, and I’ll get it for you.”
Her eyes widened, as though she were surprised by the offer. “What if I want a breakfast burrito?”
“Do you?”
She shook her head. “The point is that you can’t offer to make me anything. I don’t have a lot of ingredients. In fact, I need to go shopping, so I’m set for the week.”
“Well, if you want a burrito or whatever, I’ll just drive into town and get it for you.”
Her brows rose. “You’d really do that?”
“I would.”
The smile returned to her lips. “Well, thank you. But the pancakes are good.”
“Then why aren’t you eating?”
She hesitated, as though trying to decide how honest to be with him. “I’m just trying to wrap my mind around putting my house back together and…”
“And what?”
She sighed. “Trying to figure out who keeps breaking in and what they want. Other than the sentimentality, the stuff in here isn’t worth much.”
“What about an antique?”
She gave it some thought. “The only thing I can think of is my grandmother’s china.”
“Is it rare or anything?”
“Not that I know of. I would think if it was that, my grandmother or mother would have mentioned it. There’s no way those dishes are valuable enough to have a criminal commit repeated break-ins.” She shook her head. “I just don’t believe it.”
“I understand. But there is something in this house.” He paused to give it some thought. “How long has your family owned this house?”
“My grandfather built it. It’s always been in the family.”
He gave it some more thought. Whatever the criminal wanted was here and either Belle was unaware of its presence or she overlooked it. But how did he jar her thoughts?
“Maybe it’s a piece of jewelry.”
She immediately shook her head. “I don’t have anything valuable.”
“How about a diamond ring?” The breath hitched in his throat as he waited for her response.
Sure, they’d grown up in the same small town, but he didn’t listen to all of the gossip. And he didn’t keep up with the goings on with Belle’s love life. For all he knew she could have been engaged five times.
“No. I don’t have any diamond rings.”
He released the pent-up breath. He didn’t know why it should matter to him whether she’d been engaged in the past. After all, it hadn’t even been a year since the plug was pulled on his own engagement.
And now that it was over, he was able to look back with clear eyes and see that they were never meant to be together—not for the long haul.
“Let’s go see what’s in your jewelry box,” he said. “Maybe there’s something you forgot about.” When she frowned at him, he said, “I’m serious. You might have forgotten a gift you were given or an heirloom.”
She shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s the fact that I don’t know where my jewelry box is. My bedroom looks like a tornado blew through it.”
She was right. He was so focused on solving this case that he’d forgotten they had a lot of work to do that day. He thought about his desire to go into the office, but he supposed he could just have his staff email him the necessary reports.
He picked up his fork. “Well, then eat up. You’re going to need your energy if we’re going to clean up this house.”
Her brows drew together. “You’re going to help?”
“Of course. Friends help friends.” It wasn’t until he uttered the words that he wondered if he’d overstepped. His gaze searched hers.
Her blue eyes sent him a questioning look. “You think of us as friends?”
He shrugged. “I never thought of us as enemies.” It didn’t exactly answer her question. He didn’t know why labeling their relationship made him feel so uncomfortable. When she arched a brow at him, he said, “It’s true.”
“And I suppose all of those tickets you wrote me was just your way of saying hi.”
“Hey, those tickets were all legit. It’s not my fault you think the speed limit is just a suggestion.”
“That’s not true!”
This time he was the one to arch a brow at her. “Maybe you were speeding because you wanted me to pull you over.”
Her mouth formed a big O . Once she regained her composure, there was color in her cheeks when she said, “And why would I want you to do that?”
“Because you just can’t stay away from me.” He sent her a teasing grin.
“Oh, boy.” She rolled her eyes. “You need to work on your pick-up lines.”
“That wasn’t a pick-up line.” Was it?
Was he interested in Belle? No. The answer was swift, perhaps too swift. But he wasn’t going to let himself get distracted. He was there to do a job. Nothing more.