Chapter 21
KIERA
Sean and I stood in front of my apartment door, both of us gobsmacked.
“It’s even more impressive in person,” Sean said.
He wasn’t wrong. Darrel had built a T-Rex out of multisized cardboard boxes. The larger ones on the bottom made up its haunches, and he’d used a few shoeboxes and even some smaller ones to work out the details of the dinosaur’s head and tiny hands.
Darrel had even drawn on a cartoon smile with a black magic marker.
“Let me guess,” Sean said. “Your delivery guy’s a pixie. Maybe a gremlin?”
I let out a sigh. “Gremlin. And he’s a pain in the ass.”
“Let’s move all this inside,” Sean said. “Keys?”
I handed them over, wondering and worrying whether there would still be a dead man on my floor. At the very least, an enormous blood stain.
Crap. Maybe I wasn’t as ready to come home as I’d thought.
The door to the apartment next to mine opened, and Aurora stepped out. She wore her usual attire—a multicolored, multilayered, artfully patchworked frock—and her frizzy gray hair was held off her face with a jeweled clip in the shape of a dragon.
“Oh, good,” Aurora said, “I thought I heard you.”
Her gaze shifted over and up to Sean. Her lips parted.
I knew the feeling—he was glorious to behold—and though this was not a great time for introductions, it would have been impolite not to make them.
“Aurora,” I said, “this is Sean Murphy.”
“I know,” she said on a dreamy exhale. “It’s nice to meet you. My brothers are season ticket holders, and I go to the games. My younger brother even has your poster in his man cave. He’s a huge fan.”
“Ah,” Sean said. “Well, tell him thanks for the support.”
“What are…?” She glanced at me, then back up at him. “I mean…not to be rude but…what are you doing here?”
“I’m Kiera’s man.”
My whole body rocked. Um… Man? I was Sean’s woman, and he was my man? How did this happen?
“Man?” Aurora asked, apparently as surprised as I was. Her wide eyes shot to me as her lips quirked, fighting a smile. “You never told me you were dating Sean Murphy!”
“I guess it didn’t come up,” I said, wanting to kick Sean in the shins. Even if he was my man, I didn’t share details of my life with Aurora. I barely shared them with Elli.
“Could I maybe…” Her expression turned sheepish, and her gaze slid back to Sean. “Get a selfie? With you, I mean.”
“Sure,” he said. “But maybe we could get these boxes in first?”
“Oh!” Her cheeks turned red. “Of course. I’ll help.”
“Um…” I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to let Aurora into my apartment. Sean, however, was apparently unconcerned about corpses or blood stains.
He reached around the stacked boxes, turned the key in the lock, then grabbed the dinosaur’s head and shimmied past the rest of the sculpture and into my apartment.
Aurora and I each grabbed a box and followed him in.
Fortunately, there was no dead body.
There was also no blood; however, there was the distinct odor of bleach.
My couch was back on its feet, but the cushions were obviously slashed. Sean’s teammates might have been good with household cleaners but not so much with a needle and thread.
There were also at least two punch holes in the walls, marring the peaceful blue of my French provincial paint job, and one of the kitchen cupboard doors had been ripped off its hinges.
I hadn’t noticed either of those things the last time I was home. At the time, there’d been too many other things to look at. For example, my smashed petal-pink, vintage-inspired, toast-and-happiness-making toaster.
The guys must have swept it up with the rest of the debris.
“Whoa,” Aurora murmured, her eyes going round. “What happened?”
“Yeah…so…I was robbed.” For the first time in my life, the lie came easily, but I hoped I didn’t have to push it any further than that.
“When?” she asked. “Tony never said anything. Did you call the police?”
I glanced up at Sean who was watching me with a small smile on his face, like he knew I was going to be terrible at this and was preparing to enjoy the show.
“I filed a police report,” I said, “but there’s not much they can do until something shows up at a pawn shop.”
Aurora nodded, urging me on.
“And…I wasn’t about to tell Tony. I’m already his least favorite tenant.”
“That’s not true,” Aurora cajoled. “There’s Chop-Suey Bob down at the end.”
“Chop suey?” Sean asked.
“Bob likes his take-out,” I explained, then to Aurora I amended, “Fine. His second-to-last favorite tenant.”
Aurora shook her head. “What did they take?”
“What?”
“The thieves. What did they take?”
“Oh.” I glanced around my apartment.
Sean leaned back against the wall and folded his arms, still smiling.
“I…um…think they cased the place, saw how many deliveries I was getting and assumed…or at least hoped…all the boxes contained electronics. That’s why they trashed the place. They got pissed when it turned out to be only clothes and a waste of their time.”
Aurora’s gaze slid to my TV and computer, which had both been left behind.
Busted.
Still, she didn’t launch a counterargument against my theory. “I’m sorry, Kiera.”
“Thanks.”
We got the rest of the boxes inside, and once we did, Aurora asked, “Could I still get that photo? My brother’s never going to believe me.”
“Of course,” Sean said.
Aurora dug into the deep pocket on the side of her patchwork dress, then handed me her phone.
Sean slung his arm around Aurora’s shoulders. “Be sure to get my good side, babe.”
I rolled my eyes, and Aurora barely contained her nervous giggle.
Picture taken and gratitude expressed, she left, leaving me and Sean alone.
“Is that weird?” I asked.
“What?” Sean walked further into my apartment to have a better look around.
“People asking for photos.”
He shrugged. “I asked players for autographs all the time when I was a kid. It’s an honor and a privilege to give them. Do you still have the box for this?”
“The box for what?”
“Your computer. Obviously, we can’t bring it on the bike, but I can tilt it to my cabin then come back for you.”
“Tilt it to your cabin?”
“You’re going to want to be able to work, right?”
“At your cabin?’
“Uh…yeah. We talked about this. You don’t want to get behind on your work.”
“Yeah, but I thought you meant I should grab my laptop. Moving my desktop into your cabin feels…I don’t know…like a long-term situation.”
Sean didn’t say anything to that.
“Do you think I’m moving in with you?” I asked, and my voice made a little squeak at the end.
He looked uncomfortable.
“Sean, we’re new. Brand new. I’m not moving in with you.”
“Just temporarily. Circumstances are extreme, babe.”
“I can go back to Lukas and Elli’s.”
“Lukas and Elli are relatively new, too. They might not want a long-term house guest while they’re settling in to cohabitation.”
He was probably right about that. “Then I’ll find somewhere else.”
Sean exhaled wearily.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.
“I don’t want to fight.”
“We’re not fighting.” The difference between our families was even greater than I’d realized if he thought this was fighting. My mother once threw a brick at my father. Another time, she threw a steak knife.
Dad never called the police simply because, one, he’d started the fight and, two, she had lousy aim.
“We don’t know how long this trouble will last,” Sean said. “Until we get to the bottom of things—”
“Then get to the bottom of things,” I said. “Talk to Elli’s brother. Ask him what’s going on.”
The look on Sean’s face told me that he knew I was right. Evan Rogan was the key—or at the very least: the starting line. If he was really involved in some weird way, he might know how many players there were and how big of a threat was left standing.
“Rafe’s going to talk to him,” Sean said. “I’m going to go with him.”
I adjusted my purse over my shoulder. “Great. I’ll go with you when you do.”
“What?” He shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?” I asked.
Again, he looked like he knew I was right; there was no good reason to keep me out of this. He hung his head and muttered, “Damn.”
The door whipped open, and a new, unpleasantly shrill voice declared, “Well, there she is!”
Sean and I both whirled toward the sound. When we saw who’d arrived, his body language read as confusion. Mine, however, did not.
This was a face I knew all too well, and the woman behind it was gearing up for something ugly and loud.
“Swank pad,” Loretta sneered barely glancing around.
Sean’s back stiffened, reacting either to her comment, her nasty tone, or her lavender and lime-green velour sweatsuit, which was halfway unzipped, exposing ample cleavage and streaky self-tanner. Maybe he was reacting to a combination of all three.
For myself, I couldn’t tell if Loretta’s comment was intended to be a sarcastic remark on all the damage to my apartment, or if she was being bitterly serious and actually didn’t notice the place had been trashed.
I wouldn’t put it past her not to notice, given the likely state of her trailer. Besides that, she had yet to notice or acknowledge Sean, and he was normally so attention grabbing, he could stop a parade of blind nuns.
“Loretta,” I said warningly, “what are you doing here?”
Sean moved in closer, and I felt his fingertips brush against my lower back.
“I got a call from Braden,” she said.
“You did? Did you talk to him?”
Loretta had never been one for staying in touch. I hadn’t seen or heard from her since last Christmas when she called demanding money to buy a ham.
I gave her the money but hadn’t been invited to dinner. Nope. I spent the holiday with Jimmy Stewart, Donna Reed, and a pitcher of margaritas.
“Of course I talked to him,” Loretta said as if offended by the question.
Sean glanced down at me, probably wondering how this woman knew my brother.
Loretta finally turned her head and narrowed her eyes on him. “Do you mind? We’re having a private conversation.”
That was actually a good idea. He should go. I didn’t need him to hear whatever this was going to be.
“Lady,” Sean said, his confusion morphing into irritation. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are—”
“Who I am?” Loretta asked. “Who I am? Who the hell are you? I’m her mother.”