Page 64 of The Rookie's Second Chance

He grinned then, a genuine, Jake-like grin, and leaned in to kiss me, a soft press of lips that was reassuring in its familiarity. As he pulled back, he glanced toward the house, the gears clearly turning in his head.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but... would you come check out the house with me? Just to be sure?” he asked, his voice tinged with a seriousness that matched the set of his jaw.

I laughed despite the odd romantic pivot. “What a way to woo a girl, Barrows.”

He stood, offering me his hand with a playful bow. “I promise to make it up to you.”

I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. “You’d better,” I teased, but inside, my heart was racing with anticipation and dread.

The chill of the early evening crept up my spine as Jake and I approached Luke and Lexi's house. The place stood silent, its windows like dark, watchful eyes. Even with Jake's steady presence beside me, an uneasy feeling had begun to twist in my gut.

"We should check around the outside first," Jake suggested, his voice low as if the night could overhear us.

"Lead the way, detective," I replied, trying to keep the mood light.

We started with the perimeter, Jake's flashlight beam adding just a touch more light to highlight anything out of the ordinary. I trailed slightly behind Jake, my gaze darting between the ground and the looming structure of the house.

"There," I pointed out when I noticed smudges on the lower corner of a windowpane as Jake’s beam of light fell on them. "Fingerprints."

Jake crouched down, examining the marks. "Good catch," he murmured. "Looks like someone was trying to be careful, but they slipped up."

I knelt beside him, the cool air nipping at my cheeks. "Too bad for them," I said, though the satisfaction of the find was dampened by the implication of what it meant.

We continued our sweep, the beam of Jake's flashlight methodically exposing more signs of intrusion—a scuff mark on the siding, a few strands of hair caught in a thorny bush.

"Let's check inside," Jake said after we completed a full circuit around the house. His voice held a firmness that belied the concern I saw in his eyes.

The front door creaked ominously as we stepped into the foyer. The silence inside was oppressive, the faint echo of our footsteps a stark reminder that we were in a space recently violated by unknown intentions.

Jake led the way to the window we'd inspected from outside. He pulled out a fingerprinting kit from his jacket pocket and looked at me sheepishly.

“You really are well prepared for this date, aren’t you?” I teased.

He grinned as he dusted the sill, revealing a clear set of prints. "Look similar to the ones outside, but we should get them to the lab to make sure," he noted, his brow furrowing. "Let's bag these."

While he worked on collecting the prints, I scoured the room. A few loose fibers on the back of a chair, a slight disarray in the placement of the cushions—subtle hints that someone had been there, searching, waiting.

"Anything else?" Jake asked, glancing up from his evidence bag.

"Maybe. It's hard to say without knowing what it looked like before," I said, frustration lacing my words.

We moved through the house methodically, the familiarity of the procedure a thin veil over the raw nerves and heightened senses. In the kitchen, Jake found a broken glass of water beside the counter, a slight red stain on one of the sides where it had cut someone.

“How did they miss all this?” I asked.

"My guess is that since Lexi was safe, they just assumed we’d be by to do a sweep ourselves. But anyway… that glass could be nothing, something Lexi just dropped in fear, but let's take it in," he said, already reaching for another evidence bag.

The living room gave up a few more clues—a disturbed stack of magazines, a lampshade slightly askew. It was nothing definitive, nothing that screamed 'stalker,' but it was enough to keep the unease simmering in my chest.

"We'll need to bring the team in for a full sweep," Jake concluded, his voice grim. "There's more here than we can process alone."

As we stood there in the dimly lit living room, surrounded by the ghosts of the day's revelations, I felt a surge of anger. Someone was playing a twisted game with Lexi and us, and I was tired of it.

"We'll find them," I said, the promise as much for myself as for Jake. "We have to."

He reached out, his hand finding mine in the semi-darkness. "We will," he assured me, and I felt his conviction.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

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