“Likely kids,” Cop number two mused.
Nodding, I fingered the cuff link in my pocket.
And didn’t say a goddamn word about it.
“You know how it is, Mr. Carson. You get these punk kids in the city who hear about all the respectable folks here in Marblehead, and they think they can make some easy money fencing whatever they can get their hands on. Especially with all the summer homes in the area. This time of year, there’s fewer neighbors around to report crime, especially on the waterfront. And this particular location recently changed hands?—”
“Because my grandmother died. It wasn’t voluntary. We never would have sold this property. Do you know how long it has been in my family?” Grace held up a hand before either of the cops could answer. “Never mind. I’m sorry. I’m just emotional right now.”
“Understandable,” Cop number two said, handing her his handkerchief in advance of her tears, I supposed.
Except Grace wasn’t crying. She set her jaw and refused the offering with a sharp shake of her head.
Inwardly, I smiled for the first time in hours. That was my Grace. She wouldn’t accept anyone’s pity. Why would she? She was stronger than the supports that held up this house.
“There’s one part of the story you left out. You said you were…indisposed shortly before you heard the first noises that indicated a possible break-in.” Cop number one tilted her head, her gaze cool. “Indisposed in what way, sir?”
Sirwas a title I now associated with Grace. Hearing it out of another woman’s mouth in such a patronizing way made me want to snarl. Somehow, I kept hold of the impulse as I considered how to word my reply.
“Farrah—” Cop number two said with a wince, playing his good cop part to the hilt. “I don’t think that’s necessary in this case. Mr. Carson has done so much for this community. Why, he’s practically a pillar.”
A pillar who’d just fucked his assistant. Ex-assistant, but the work relationship stigma would remain for some.
“We were intimate and fell asleep,” Grace said without faltering. “I can’t give you times of release or anything like that, as we didn’t know we’d need to note them for later court documents. But I’m guessing we fell asleep around two-thirty or three.”
My eyebrow lifted. So, I guess Grace didn’t need my tact in this case.
“Well then, that’s enough.” Cop number one flipped shut her notebook and tucked it in her pocket. “I feel pretty certain that this is just a case of kids thinking they can do a grab-and-run and didn’t expect to encounter the homeowner. The fact that you shot one of them lifts it into another realm, and we’ll do a scan of local hospitals to see if anyone comes in tonight matching the profile.” She glanced at her silent partner. “We’ll also be in touch about that sketch.”
“And about any DNA matches,” I added.
She nodded after a moment, and I knew I’d not be told that information until—and if—an arrest was imminent. But there were always ways of finding out information.
Ifyou knew which weak spot to press. And how hard.
“So sorry about the disturbance this evening, Mr. Carson.” Cop number two shot a sidelong glance at Grace as the four of us walked toward their car. There was speculation in that look, and a barely contained smirk on his lips. “You too, Ms. Copeland.”
For reasons I couldn’t define, I slid my arm around Grace’s waist and tugged her into my side. She stumbled and it was only then that I realized she had giant fuzzy bunny slippers on her feet to go with her clingy pants and sweatshirt. Home clothes, though she had no home.
Because you stole hers right out from under her, even if you didn’t know it.
“Thank you,” she said to the cops when I didn’t respond.
They pulled away a moment later, and we watched them go in shared silence. It wasn’t awkward. It was…full.
As if we simply had so much to say that there was no easy way to start. So, we said nothing at all.
Or maybe that was just me.
There was one point I wanted to make clear. One thing I wouldn’t budge on, no matter how much trouble she gave me. I might not have known Grace in this way for all that long, but I knew she would bristle at any attempts I made to shield her.
Her pride was an important consideration, just not at the possible expense of her safety.
“You’re not staying here tonight.”
“I have to clean up. There’s broken glass inside…and the blood.” She pressed her lips together. “I know it’s not my place. I know, okay? I also know you could have me arrested for trespassing if you wanted to.”
Anger spurted up inside me, hot and choking. Not just due to her deception in living at the house. Not even most of it. The bulk of my rage belonged to the assholes who’d dared to break in while we were together.