Page 55 of Four Steps to the Perfect Fake Date

“Yes,” Jenna answered. “He said he had another month of work to do, but he’s on schedule. Why? You think he did this?”

“I never said that. Would he have a reason to break in?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s done a good job so far.”

But why would Barela have a break-in on the very same night?

After leaving the rest of the deputies to finish up, Calvin made his way to the Barela Contracting yard. The parking lot was illuminated with floodlights, with another cruiser parked near the front door. He parked his truck next to it and paused when his phone buzzed.

Everything okay?Daphne wrote.

He stared at the words for a few long seconds. It was the first time anyone had checked up on him when he was on the job. It made a weight press down on his chest, and it was hard to breathe for a minute. She cared. No one had cared about him in a long, long time.

He shook his head. She was probably being polite. He was the one who was infatuated with her. The worst thing he could do was get carried away thinking she felt the same.

All good, he replied.How’s the ankle?

A photo message came through a second later, showing Daphne’s bare legs from the knee down, a fresh bag of ice on her ankle. She was in the spare bedroom.

His heart gave a hard thump. She’d taken her pants off? He sent her a picture of the Barela Contracting offices, but the camera focused on the rain dripping down his windshield, and the building beyond was blurry.

I’d rather be where I am, she wrote back, and sent him a photo of her face snuggled in a mountain of pillows.

He stared at the image until another message came through.Be safe, Flint.

Careful, Cupcake, he wrote back.It almost sounds like you care.

I just want to make sure I have a ride to work tomorrow morning, she answered.

He’d just snorted, thumbs poised over the keyboard, when a knock on his window made him jump. Teri stood outside his door, jerking her head toward the entrance to the contractor’s office.

“Hey,” he said, following her as they jogged to get out of the rain. “What’s the situation?”

“Come inside. The place was ransacked. Someone stole a bunch of files, along with Barela’s laptop.”

The man himself was standing in the middle of a mess of paperwork and office supplies, hands on his hips, thunderous expression on his brow. He turned when he saw Calvin and jerked his chin in acknowledgment.

“Sheriff,” Barela said in greeting. “Two visits in less than a week. Must be my lucky month.”

“Walk me through what happened.”

“Alarm went off. I drove straight over, was here within fifteen minutes. Didn’t see anyone coming or going, but I walked into this.”

“What was taken?”

“Some files and my laptop.”

“Tools? Equipment?”

“I’ll have to inventory the yard in the morning, but I don’t think so. They left the hard drive, so I still have all my documents. Looks like they only had time to ransack my files. We only keep current projects stored out here, and whoever did this didn’t make it to the back storeroom.” He bent over and picked up a quote written on his company’s letterhead. “Would this help you? It ain’t my shoe, and I don’t think it’s Teri’s either.”

Calvin took the sheet of paper from Barela. It had a dirty shoe print on it in the corner, and what looked like cat prints down the middle. Looked like Dumpling had either interrupted the burglar or come to investigate once he’d gone.

“It might,” Calvin said, studying the shoe print. Then his eyes skimmed the paper itself, and he noticed it was a quote for the Romano job. Teri put the paper in an evidence sleeve, along with any others they found that had been stepped on.

“You got insurance?” Calvin asked.

Jerry grunted. “Be bad business not to.”

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