Chapter 12
chapter
twelve
As the door flew open, Caleb pivoted toward the sound.
Max’s familiar figure came into view.
Max.
It was only Max.
He stood in the doorway, breath steady, eyes alert. “Hey. I thought I’d check in. You need any help in here?”
Caleb released his breath before shaking his head. “No, I think we’re fine.”
Max hesitated before scanning the room. Then he nodded and stepped back, as he seemed to realize Caleb and Millie were in the middle of a discussion.
“I have a few more things to do outside,” he murmured.
As soon as he was gone, Caleb turned back to Millie.
She looked away.
Whatever she’d been about to say—whatever had put that look on her face—had disappeared.
Instead, she lifted her chin. “What did the sheriff tell you? Was it about that car last night?”
“He ran the plates.”
Her fingers tightened on the water bowl. “And?”
“The car belongs to a man named Travis Henderson. His family used to own this land—long before Sarah and her husband bought it. The Hendersons were behind on their property taxes, and Richard—Sarah’s husband—bought it legally. But the Hendersons never forgave him for it.”
Understanding dawned slowly on her face. “So this Travis guy . . . he was just . . . watching?”
“He was posturing. He’s reckless and likes to make noise. So far he hasn’t crossed any lines.” Caleb paused. “His family still owns a couple of acres bordering us. They’re close enough to be a nuisance when they feel like it.”
She nodded slowly. “That sounds like a headache.”
Headache would be an understatement, but he didn’t tell her that. “Travis can be ill-tempered. He likes to remind people that he still thinks this land belongs to his family. The sheriff has warned him to back off before.”
Relief seemed to loosen her shoulders just a fraction. “The good news is that it wasn’t Garrick.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
Caleb was grateful—very grateful—that Garrick hadn’t found her.
However, any unwanted attention could threaten what they were doing, and there were already enough people who wanted them shut down.
They needed for this to be a place of peace, not dispute and conflict.
But how could he ensure that?
He couldn’t, Caleb realized.
He could only try to keep those things at bay.
Those problems weren’t things his guests needed to worry about or be exposed to. These women were already dealing with enough.
Including Millie.
Millie washed her hands at the utility sink in the back of the kennel, then shut off the faucet.
Max came back into the building to talk about some kind of maintenance issue.
As he and Caleb discussed the problem, her thoughts raced.
No one was inside the house right now. That meant, if she needed to use the computer without being seen, this would be the perfect time.
Sweat popped out across her forehead. Did she really want to do this?
She wasn’t sure. But she felt compelled to find answers, and this felt like the only way.
If she was going to act, she needed to do it now while Naomi and Sissy were gone.
Drawing in a deep breath, she tapped Caleb’s shoulder. “I’m going to head back inside.”
“Sure thing,” Caleb called. “Thanks for your help.”
“Any time.”
He walked her to the door and watched her cross the driveway back to the house.
The noise of the dogs faded behind her as she walked, keenly aware of Caleb’s gaze on her.
She reached the house, punched in a code at the door, and then paused.
She glanced behind her. Caleb waved and, assured she was safely at the house, he slipped back into the kennel.
But something made the hair on her neck rise.
She froze and glanced around.
Why did she feel like someone was watching her?
Not Caleb. He was gone. Max was in the kennel with him.
Naomi and Sissy still weren’t back.
She scanned her surroundings—the road in the distance. The fence. The woods and mountains bordering the property.
She saw nothing, no one.
Still, she knew it was only wise to stay alert.
She slipped inside and quickly locked the door behind her. Biscuit rushed to greet her, and she rubbed his head.
After hanging her coat on a hook near the back door, she glanced around, confirming that no one was here.
She needed to know if she’d done something to put anyone here in danger.
There was only one way to find out. But first, she needed to put Biscuit in her room and close the door—just in case.
She did that, apologizing to the dog as she shut the door. Then she rushed back downstairs.
She hurried down the hall and stopped outside the office door. It stood slightly ajar. Through the crack, she could see the computer screen glowing inside.
Her pulse kicked up.
I just need to look at one thing, she told herself. That’s all. It’s for the sake of everyone here. Maybe there’s nothing to worry about. But if there is, I need to tell Caleb.
Steeling herself, she slipped inside and softly closed the door behind her.
Files were stacked neatly on the desk. A printer hummed softly. The curtains were drawn.
She needed to move quickly or she might be caught.
She sat down at the computer and touched the mouse.
The screen woke fully, a browser window already open.
She opened a new tab—incognito—and typed in the name of the cloud-based scheduling app Garrick used to organize every part of his life. His meetings, deadlines, travel, court cases, personal training sessions, even when to take his supplements.
All this fit his controlling temperament. He liked everything to be perfect—and when that didn’t happen, he exploded.
She’d usually been the one on the receiving end of his temper tantrums.
She hesitated, her chest tightening as she considered her next action.
Then muscle memory took over. She typed the password he always used, the one she’d typed more times than she cared to remember.
Had he changed it? Or was it still the same?
Her breath caught.
She was about to find out.
She hit Enter.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the page refreshed.
His account was still active. His password had worked.
Her pulse thudded as she clicked into the calendar.
Entries filled the screen—meetings, court dates, blocks of time marked in a neat, color-coded order. Most of the entries were tied to a trial that was already underway. Hearings had been scheduled weeks out. Days started early and ran late.
Garrick was busy, his schedule tied up, and his time accounted for.
If he was still in DC, still sitting in courtrooms and conference rooms, then he couldn’t be anywhere near Refuge Cove. He couldn’t have followed her.
She wanted to feel relief, but it was too soon.
She opened another tab and did a quick internet search for his name.
Headlines confirmed what his schedule already told her. He was in the middle of a high-profile, ongoing murder trial. Getting away would be nearly impossible.
She released a shaky breath as she leaned back in the chair.
But her relief was short-lived as a colder thought hit her.
What if Garrick somehow found out Millie had logged in to his calendar under his name? What if one of the tech guys at his work could somehow trace the IP address back to Refuge Cove? Had she logged out? She couldn’t remember.
Her heart raced with panic.
What if instead of reassuring herself that she hadn’t messed up when she left, if she’d actually just led Garrick right to her doorstep?
Before she could contemplate her actions anymore, footsteps sounded in the hall.
Someone was coming.
Millie’s breath caught as she turned toward the door.
She couldn’t be caught in here. She wasn’t ready to explain herself.
But what could she do?