Chapter Two #2
Knox made a note on the paper in his hand. “What did the police say?” he asked without looking up.
“I, uh, I didn’t call them.”
His eyes sharpened on me. “There a reason you called us and not the police when there was an intruder in your house?”
“I, uh, I—”
Knox leaned forward. “What are you afraid of, Lily? I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me.”
“I don’t know where to start,” I said, those words explaining so much and so little.
I didn’t know where to start with anything. With the break-ins, with my life as a widow, with Knox Sinclair and his offer of help.
“Start at the beginning,” Knox said simply.
Nothing was simple about the beginning. College, and Trey, and that first flush of heady, foolish love. That was the real beginning. But that wasn’t what Knox meant.
“About a month after Trey died,” I started, “I thought someone tried to get into the house. The alarm went off and the police came. They said they didn’t find anything, but I heard someone out there.”
“It happened again?”
“Every week or two.”
“That often?” Knox asked, one dark eyebrow arched.
“It’s not always someone trying to get into the house. Sometimes it’s things outside that are moved. I found marks on a window like someone tried to force it open.”
“Did you show the marks to the police? What did they say?”
I shook my head. “Trey’s best friend Dave is a deputy with the town Police Department. He, uh, he’s been keeping an eye on us since Trey died. He says it’s all nothing. Probably teenagers messing around. He said the marks on the garage door were an animal trying to get at the garbage, but—”
Those dark eyes flashed up. “You have problems with animals here? Have they tried to get into the garage before?”
“No. If I leave the trash cans out, sure. We're surrounded by the woods here. Animals, yes. Raccoons and fox. Sometimes coyote. Tons of deer in the summer. But trying to get into the garage or damaging the house? Never. So if it's animals, why now?”
“Good question,” Knox said in a low voice. “Have you seen anyone hanging around?”
“No. A few times I thought I heard something, but—”
“What happened last night?”
I ran through the events of the night before, trying to keep my voice steady. When I was finished, Knox set his notepad and pen on the coffee table and leaned back in his chair, propping his ankle on his knee, arms folded across his chest.
“You're sure you set the alarm. Sure you closed and locked the door.”
“I'm sure,” I said. “I never forget to lock up. I check the doors every night after Adam goes to sleep, and I never forget the alarm. Ever.”
Straining under the pressure of Knox's steady gaze I rose to pace in front of my chair. “I know what I saw. I know what I heard. Adam was in bed. I was the only one in the house. I should have been the only one in the house. I'm not making this up.”
“Sit down, Lily.”
My butt plopped in my chair before I registered that he'd told me what to do in the same tone I used with Adam.
I stayed where I was. Knox wasn't friendly. He was a little scary, but he was supposed to be here to help me. I didn't want to piss him off.
He studied me, appraising, picking me apart. I fought the urge to squirm. Finally, he asked, “Has someone told you they think you're making it up?”
“Dave. Trey's friend. The Deputy. He thinks I'm exaggerating. The rest of the police agree.”
“That's why you called us instead of the police last night?”
I nodded. It was enough that Knox knew I was afraid we had an intruder. He didn't have to know my other fears.
That the police would decide that I was unstable. That they would take Adam. That I wouldn’t be able to stop them.
Knox flipped open the manila folder on the coffee table. “Your alarm was deactivated last night at 3:28 AM by the main code. That wasn't you?”
I shook my head, sinking my teeth into my lower lip as panic surged through me, driving me to stand, to pace, to run. I stayed put, my teeth in my lip anchoring me in place, and shook my head for a second time, afraid if I spoke, my voice would shake.
I hadn't imagined it.
Someone had deactivated the alarm while I slept using my own code.
Filling in the blanks, Knox went on, “The alarm was reactivated at 4:18 AM. Was that you?”
I nodded. Knox closed the folder. Appearing lost in thought, he picked up the slice of coffee cake I'd set in front of him and broke off a corner, popping it into his mouth.
He chewed, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he lifted his coffee cup to his mouth, downed a swig, and washed away the coffee cake.
Had I messed it up again? How could I mess up coffee cake? How could I be so good at cooking and so awful at baking? Aren't they the same thing?
Distracted, I broke off a corner of my own coffee cake. Dry, too salty, with aluminum notes of baking powder. Ugh. I washed my bite down with coffee as Knox had his own. Another coffee cake, down the tubes.
Holding his mug in both hands, Knox sipped again, and I wondered if he was washing the taste of the coffee cake out of his mouth. I wouldn't blame him if he were. Looking at me through the steam, he said, “Why would someone try to break into your house?
“I don't know. I don't know. I don't have anything worth stealing.”
Knox's eyes drifted around the living room taking in the sculptures, the art on the walls. “Jewelry? Money in a safe? Artwork or valuables easier to move than what's in here?”
“I don't have much jewelry. A string of pearls my parents gave me when I turned twenty-one. My wedding and engagement rings. A few things here and there, but nothing valuable. Nothing worth driving all the way out here for.”
“What did your husband do before he died?”
Wasn't that the million-dollar question. What did Trey do? It was a question I should have asked so many times throughout our marriage. I should have demanded answers. I shouldn't have accepted Trey's easy explanations.
At first, I'd been too in love to push. Later, I had too much to lose.
“Lily? Don't you know what your husband did for a living?”
“I, uh, I don't,” I admitted, heat flooding my cheeks again. What wife didn't know what her husband did for a living? Knox said nothing, just raised that dark eyebrow again in query, clearly expecting more.
“We moved up here when he got a job working for a company that sold spring water. He was supposed to be in logistics and distribution. He stayed with them for about a year before he went out on his own.”
“He started his own company?”
“He called it Spencer Distributors, but he never told me the names of his clients. Said it was confidential.”
“Did he work normal hours? Have an office? Coworkers or employees?”
“He worked eight to six, mostly from home, in his office.
He had a lot of meetings with clients and he always went to them.
He traveled a lot. No employees. I always thought he should hire someone to take the load off so he didn't have to work so much, but he didn't want to. He said he liked running the whole thing himself.”
“And when he died? Did you inherit the company?”
“I did, technically.”
“Technically?”
“Technically the company is mine, but the attorney didn't have any information other than the LLC filing. No bank accounts, no client lists. If anyone is looking for Trey, they haven't come here.”
“Bank accounts? His laptop?”
“I haven't found his banking information.”
“Do you think it's possible someone who was involved in your husband's business is trying to get into the house?”
I let out a breath, deflating under the weight of his question. “It's the only thing that makes sense,” I said, “but I don't know where to start trying to figure out who or how to get them to stop.”
“That's my job. What about your personal finances? Any issues there?”
I wasn't sure how much information I should give to Knox Sinclair. He said he was here to help me, but I'd gotten the phone number for Sinclair Security from Trey. If the break-ins were related to Trey's business, then everything connected to him was tainted.
I had to take the chance. If Knox was here to help, I had to trust him. Just a little. A little, but not all the way.
“Everything seems fine with our personal finances. We didn't have any problems with his life insurance, no money missing from the bank accounts, everything normal with the bills.”
“He left you comfortable?”
“Comfortable enough, yes,” I answered, not willing to tell Knox exactly how comfortable Trey had left us.
Too comfortable. Comfortable enough that my jaw dropped as I stared at the documents from the lawyer. Where had Trey gotten all that money? It was just sitting there in the bank accounts, taxes duly paid, and I had no idea how he'd earned it.
Knox straightened his chair, then leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and leveling a frank look in my direction. “This is the part that can be a little uncomfortable. What budget did you have in mind?”
“Why don't you tell me what you think I need,” I said, “and I'll tell you if I can afford it.”
“Fair enough,” Knox said, a hint of a smile ghosting across his lips. “I think you need someone on site twenty-four/seven until we find out what's going on. I think if we want to catch whoever's trying to get in the house, we leave the system as it is.”
“Set a trap?”
“Something like that.”
“So how does this work? When will you send someone up?”
“Someone is here.”
“You?” Nerves skittered down my spine. Could I handle Knox Sinclair twenty-four/seven? Those dark eyes, the size of him looming over me.
If he was here to keep me safe, Knox Sinclair would scare away almost any threat.
And if he wasn't?
If he wasn't here to keep me safe, I was a lot worse off than I thought.