Chapter 4
Rex performed an immediate about-face and hurried back to the truck.
“Where are you going?” Kimo squirmed in an attempt to get her feet on the ground.
“I need to get you somewhere safe.”
“But someone broke into my house.”
Rex nodded. “And might still be inside.” He dumped her into the passenger seat and started to close the door.
Kimo’s hand shot out to stop the door in mid-swing. “I’m not going anywhere. That’s my house. I need clothes and need to know what’s been taken. I have some expensive camera equipment inside worth a lot of money.”
“Is your equipment worth more than your life?” he asked, his gaze narrowing on the house.”
“Yes,” she answered too fast and came back with, “No. But it’s my house.”
Rex dug his cell phone out of his pocket. “Then call 911 and report the break-in.”
She didn’t take the device. “What if it’s not a break-in. What if I left the door unlocked, and it swung open? At least let me check it out before I involve the police.”
His gaze narrowed at her cottage. “If you stay here and stay down, I’ll clear the building. Only then can I allow you to go inside.”
Kimo bristled. “There you go again, being all bossy.”
His intense gaze met hers. “I can’t protect you if you don’t do what I tell you. As a former Delta Force operative, I’m trained and experienced in the art of clearing a building. Let me do my job, and I’ll let you into your house.”
Rather than fight a losing battle and delay entering her own home to assess the damage, Kimo nodded. “Deal.”
He laid the phone in her palm. “If I’m not back out in two minutes, make that call to 911.”
She nodded, her fingers curling around the cell phone. “But you’ll be back, won’t you?”
His lips curled up on one side. “I will. But hold onto that, just in case.”
Then he leaned over her, opened the glove compartment and extracted a handgun.
Kimo’s pulse fluttered. The shit was getting real when her bodyguard armed himself. “You always carry one of those?”
“When needed.” He released the magazine, checked the bullets inside and slammed it back into the handle of the weapon. “Close and lock the door. I’ll be right back.”
“Hopefully,” she murmured beneath her breath as she did as he’d said and closed and locked the door.
Rex tapped the glass. “Duck down.”
Kimo slumped in her seat until she could barely see over the dashboard.
Rex hesitated for a moment and then hurried toward her house, the gun at the ready.
Again, he climbed the porch steps, approaching the door from the side, providing no clear target for anyone who might be inside.
Kimo’s eyes rounded and her breath caught in her throat as Rex eased the door wider, then dove inside.
For what felt like an eternity, he remained inside.
Kimo strained her ears, listening for the sound of gunfire.
Just when she lifted the cell phone to punch in the three numbers, Rex, with his broad shoulders and imposing stature, stepped through the front door. He’d shoved the gun into his belt.
Kimo let go of the breath she’d held and sat up straighter. She couldn’t lie to herself. She was remarkably glad to see him again.
As the former Delta Force operative descended the steps, Kimo unlocked her door and pushed it open. She waited for him to help her down.
“All clear.” Rex reached into the truck and lifted her into his arms. When she opened her mouth to protest, he beat her to it with, “Just until we get you into some shoes. It’s not safe to walk in there barefoot.”
She frowned as he tucked his cell phone into his front shirt pocket and draped her arm around his neck. “So, it was breaking and entering?”
He nodded. “Emphasis on breaking.”
Her heart sank, but she put it in perspective. “They’re just things,” she said. “I don’t care about them. I care about Alana.”
He nodded. “Hold that thought.”
Rex carried her up the steps and into the house. “Where do you keep your shoes?”
“In the closet in my bedroom.” As her gaze swept through the little house, her chest tightened. Furniture had been knocked over, the cushions on her couch slashed, knick-knacks and photo frames lay in splintered pieces and shattered shards around the room.
Rex strode with her down the hallway to the last door at the end of the hallway. When he stepped through, Kimo gasped.
The bedframe had been broken, and her mattress slashed down the middle.
The dresser she’d purchased at a flea market and refinished lay in pieces on its side, all the drawers removed, dumped and broken.
“Why would someone destroy my things?” she whispered.
“They aren’t worth anything to anyone but me. ”
“Could they have been looking for something?”
“I don’t own anything important but my cameras.” Her eyes widened. “My cameras.”
“Where do you keep them?”
“In the spare bedroom on the right side of the hall.”
Rex shook his head. “I didn’t see any cameras in that room or the one across from it. Did you keep them in a special storage place?”
Kimo shook her head. “No. I mostly leave them on a shelf in the closet. Did you look there?”
Rex nodded. “I looked there, under the bed and in the chest of drawers.”
“They took my cameras,” she said, her eyes welling. “They’re the tools of my trade. Without them, I can’t do my job.”
“Did you have them insured?”
She nodded. “But it takes time to replace them. Many were special orders.” Kimo sighed. “Again. Not as important as finding Alana.”
“Things can be replaced.”
“People can’t,” she concluded. “There’s no broken glass in here. You can set me on my feet.”
He glanced around before lowering her feet to the ground. His arm remained around her back.
She’d never admit to him that she found his touch reassuring. Though she appreciated his presence at the moment, he wouldn’t be around forever. She might as well regain her balance and stand on her own two feet.
Kimo stepped away from him, clutching the back of her hospital gown to keep from mooning the man.
His hand fell to his side.
The loss of his gentle support almost made her lose her balance again.
She squared her shoulders and bent to retrieve a pair of running shoes from her closet. She had to dig for them as all her hanging clothing had been stripped from the rod, ripped and dropped amongst the shoes.
Her beautifully organized and clean home had been reduced to a nightmare of disruption so overwhelming that tears welled in her eyes. She angrily tossed aside a blouse that had been torn down the middle of the back.
“Are you okay?” Rex asked.
“Of course, I’m not okay,” she cried. “I can’t find my stupid running shoes.”
“What color?”
Her thoughts were so disjointed that she had to think hard to remember. “Sea-foam green.”
Rex dropped to his haunches beside her and dug into the clothing. He found one of her shoes and handed it to her. A few seconds later, he located the other.
Then he held up one unscathed shirt after another until Kimo agreed on a cream-colored short-sleeved pullover. She pointed at a pair of faded blue jeans that had also escaped destruction.
He helped her back to her feet. “Need help dressing?”
Her cheeks heated. “No. I think I can do that on my own.”
“I’ll wait in the hallway. Call out if you feel dizzy or light-headed.”
“I’ll be okay,” she said. “Go.”
Rex stepped out into the hallway.
Once he was out of sight, Kimo dug through the pile of panties and bras and selected those that had survived the intruders.
She dragged on panties and the jeans, then pulled the gown over her head and tossed it into the dirty clothes basket in the corner of her room. She could have just left it on the floor and collected it with the other items whenever she felt like cleaning again.
That wouldn’t be anytime soon.
As she hooked the bra in place, she called out, “Did you notice if my desktop computer survived?”
“Where was it?”
“It was in the same room as my cameras.”
“I’m looking in that room now,” he said. “No cameras and no desktop computer. There are cords still plugged into the wall.”
“Damn,” she murmured. “I need a computer so that I can access my cloud storage. The photos I uploaded might tell us more about the shipping container, like who it belongs to and when it was lost at sea.”
“We could visit a library. They usually have computers available to the public. Or if you trust me, I can take you to my apartment. I have a laptop there. Do you want me to call the police now to report the break-in?”
She pulled the shirt over her head and down her torso. “Yes, now that we know for certain.”
“On it,” he said. “Try not to touch too much. They might lift prints off surfaces.”
After she found socks, she sat on the mattress and pulled them on, then her shoes.
She tied the laces and pushed to her feet, feeling less like an invalid and closer to herself.
Yes, a little weak, and the gunshot wound stung on her calf, but she was functional and ready to take on the task of finding Alana.
Sunlight filled her living room through the big picture windows that looked out over her small backyard with its paving stones meandering through her garden of blossoming bougainvillea, hibiscus and plumeria trees.
After years of building her photography business, she was finally successful and had saved enough money to put a down payment on a house of her own. On most days, the view calmed her and made her happy she’d chosen this house.
Today, all she could think about was Alana. Was she alive? Where had the men taken her?
Rex emerged from the hallway, tucking his cell phone into his pocket. “The Maui PD is sending a unit.”
“I guess that means we have to wait to go to the library.” She shuffled around the room, bending over to pick something up and stopping before she could.
“It’s hard to resist the urge to clean.” She raised her hands.
“I know. I can’t compromise any fingerprints they might find.
” Rather than reach for items, she wrapped her arms around herself and waited for the police to arrive.
“How long have you lived in this house?” Rex asked.