Chapter 2
Peter Lewis stifled a yawn as he waited for his K-Cup to finish brewing.
He’d be glad when this week was over. Adding an extra half shift to his usual hours was fine every once in a while, but two weeks of fifteen-hour workdays to help cover a coworker’s vacation time wasn’t as easy as it would have been a few years ago.
He frowned as he caught himself rubbing the side of his head. His hair mostly covered the ragged scar stretching from his forehead to just above his left ear, but “out of sight, out of mind” apparently meant nothing to his subconscious.
The stream of coffee finally ceased, but Peter didn’t immediately reach for his mug.
The temperamental machine, or the phantom monk, as he’d taken to calling it after a legend from his native Southampton, was known for its false starts and stops—sometimes dumping an extra couple of ounces after a lengthy pause. He’d found that out the hard way.
He eyed it suspiciously. A few seconds later, two drops fell in quick succession, then the monk hissed as if personally offended that its reservoir had been depleted. One more drop, then the ready light popped on, signaling the end of the brew cycle.
Peter removed his mug and dumped in some cream and sugar. He replaced the creamer in the mini fridge, then returned to his desk in the opposite corner of the small room.
Sipping his coffee, he scanned the bank of monitors on the left side of his L-shaped desk.
As expected for this time of day, the hallways were deserted, as was the main lobby.
He frowned when he noticed the extra vehicle still parked in the employee lot.
He’d seen Hailey Nieland pass by his office several minutes ago, and she’d appeared to be in a hurry.
Movement caught his eye, and he transferred his gaze to another screen.
Looked like the woman was coming back inside. Maybe she’d forgotten something.
Though he had yet to meet the woman, he recognized her from the cameras and readouts of her access badge.
She was pretty, with blond hair and a no-nonsense demeanor.
Through the camera feed, he watched her badge back into the building, then step inside.
But rather than heading for the elevators, she aimed herself to the right—toward his office.
He set his coffee aside and swiveled to where he could see through the one-way glass overlooking the lobby.
Yep. She was heading his way, and she looked ticked.
He rose to let her in, opening the door before she could knock. Surprise flickered across her face, and she paused, hand in the air.
“Can I be of assistance?”
The stormy look returned to her eyes, and she lowered her hand. “Yes, I’m Hailey Nieland. I’m a CPA with Pendleton Accounting.” She glanced toward the front entrance. “My car’s been vandalized. Both tires on one side are slashed, and someone left a message behind.”
Peter’s gut tightened. Had this happened before or after he came on duty? He hadn’t noticed anything suspicious on the monitors, but he hadn’t been looking at the cameras every second. Plus, there’d been a mass exodus between five and five thirty, so he could have missed something then.
He felt to make sure his work cell and gun were secured at his belt, then stepped outside the security office. “Mind showing me?”
She gave a curt nod and set off at a brisk pace.
Peter had to hustle to catch up with her.
In a different situation, he would have been amused.
But he didn’t yet know how serious this was.
Slashed tires were no joke, but Hailey’s vehicle could have been chosen randomly by restless teens in the mood to cause some trouble.
He hoped that was all this was. The alternative meant someone had targeted her personally, and he didn’t like that at all.
As they rounded the corner of the building, he scanned the area.
Theirs were still the only two vehicles in the lot, and nobody lingered nearby.
At least, not that he could see. The corner where Hailey was parked butted up against a copse of trees, with only a thin grassy strip separating the pavement from the nearest tree trunks.
Someone could easily hide out there if they wanted to.
Most likely, whoever had done this was long gone. If they’d intended to harm Hailey or even just stuck around to see her reaction, they’d have accomplished their purpose when she was out here alone.
Peter wouldn’t lower his guard, but he shouldn’t have to worry about any flying bullets either. He pulled his attention from the wooded area and brought his gaze back to Hailey’s SUV. Even from here, the flat rear tire was obvious.
Hailey hadn’t spoken since they left the building, and he shot a glance at her. Her mouth was compressed in a tight line, her brows furrowed. Still no sign of fear. Just anger and frustration.
They neared their destination, and he decided to hold his queries until after he saw the rest of the damage. Hailey aimed directly for the driver’s side. He followed her lead, stepping over a small air compressor sitting unceremoniously by the rear tire.
He tilted his head toward it. “Yours?”
“Yeah. I thought I just had a flat at first.” She stopped and crossed her arms as she faced the side of the vehicle. “Fat lot of good an air compressor can do for that.”
He shifted his gaze from her to the SUV.
Like she’d said, both tires were slashed—irreparably damaged by jagged slices through the rubber.
The writing on the windows disturbed him more though.
Despite being written in what appeared to be easily washable window chalk, the message indicated something more sinister than random vandalism.
“Any idea what that’s referring to or who might want you to go away?” He watched Hailey closely, and he didn’t miss the flicker of something—pain, maybe?—in her eyes.
She released a mirthless laugh. “If you’re wanting a list, the people who do want me around is probably shorter than the ones who don’t.” Her mouth worked as if she were trying to control her emotions. “But, no, I don’t know who did this.”
Peter almost asked her to explain what she meant, but he thought better of it.
This was a job for the local cops. He’d take photos.
Check the security feed. Make sure Hailey was safe while they waited for the police and maybe a tow truck to arrive.
Write an initial report. Later, once everyone was gone and the minutes of his overnight shift were inching slowly by, he’d evaluate the situation to see if there was a safety recommendation he could make to the building’s owner.
But he wouldn’t be investigating beyond reviewing the feed and sharing his findings—if there were any—with the police. And he wouldn’t be responsible for Hailey’s safety except when she happened to be on-site during his shift. Thankfully, that was a rare occurrence.
“Have you called the police yet?” He hadn’t wanted to suggest it until he’d seen the damage for himself, but this was clearly an act of vandalism.
Hailey shook her head, her frown deepening.
“Why don’t you go ahead and do that?” He removed his work cell from its belt holster and opened the camera app.
“I’m going to document the damage, then I recommend we wait inside the building until the police arrive.
” The late summer weather was beautiful but still quite hot and muggy.
And despite the low chance of danger, he’d feel better once he got Hailey inside and out of the open.
After a moment of hesitation, she blew out a frustrated breath. “I suppose you’re right.” She dug out her cell and started dialing.
Peter snapped several photos, including a close-up of each area. When Hailey dropped her phone back into her purse, he slid a glance toward her. Her face was impassive, her posture stiff.
“They’re sending someone. Should be here in about ten minutes.”
“Good.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “Let’s head inside and get out of this heat.”
Hailey acquiesced with a nod, and they started back, more slowly this time.
“I’m sorry this happened.”
The hard line of her shoulders softened ever so slightly. “Me too.”
HAILEY DROPPED into a padded chair in the main lobby as the British-sounding security guard—Peter, as he’d introduced himself on their way back inside—headed for his office to check the camera feed.
He’d invited her to join him, but she wanted to be where she could see the patrol officer the instant he arrived.
The sooner they could get this awful mess over with, the sooner she could leave to pick up Jenna.
With the thought came the realization that she wouldn’t be able to go anywhere.
One slashed tire could be replaced with her spare.
She didn’t carry two spares. A groan slipped past her lips.
Once again, she dug her phone from her purse. This time, she dialed her dad’s number, upping the volume a few notches so she could hear over the babbling of the nearby stone fountain.
He answered on the first ring. “Hey, Hailey, I was just about to call. You almost here? Your mom says the spaghetti’s almost ready, and there’s plenty to share.”
How she wished she were there instead of here. She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m still at work. Someone slashed two of my tires.”
Her dad’s tone instantly changed. “You all right?”
She waved her hand. “I’m fine. It happened before I got outside. But I’m stranded here. The police are on their way to take my statement or file a report or whatever they do for things like this.” Frustrated tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back.
“Sit tight.” It sounded like his hand covered the receiver, but she could still make out his words as he explained the situation to her mom. “I’m back. Are you able to leave your SUV there overnight?”
She glanced toward Peter’s office. “Probably. I’ll ask the security guard.”