Page 44 of A Lonely Road
“Oh my god,” I whispered.
“Don’t touch anything.”
Even if I’d wanted to, I could barely move, trapped beneath frothing waves of memory—walking up to my mom’s apartment with my father at my side, the chaos within, the paralyzing fear that we were about to find her body at any moment.
Jake slid the suitcase onto the landing and clasped me to his chest as he dialed the police. Calmly and clearly, he relayed our location and a description of the situation to the person on the other end of the line.
My eyes stayed caught on the door: the tiny gap where it hung open, the glass shards at our feet, the realization that someone had broken into my little haven here.
All the while, my mind whirled with possibilities, each one more dire than the last. In the midst of it all, I held myself completely still in his arms, like that stillness might keep me from crumbling. As soon as the call ended, Jake shoved his phone into his pocket and rubbed my back until my breath came more easily.
“An officer will be here soon. Come on, we’ll wait downstairs.”
I let him lead me back down to the driveway, where he wrapped his arms around me while we waited. I wasn’t accustomed to letting someone else take control in an emergency, but if there was one thing I knew about Jake by this point, it was that he could stay calm under any circumstances. Even if I were to break down and fall apart, he’d be there to keep me upright.
As we stood there, I leaned into him and Jake took his job in supporting me seriously.
The police cruiser showed up within minutes. Fortunately, Jake knew the woman who stepped out of the car, an old classmate he introduced as Detective Rose Hanson. She was beautiful and nearly as tall as Jake, with skin the same dark brown as my eyes. Her sharp gaze swept over us both, then she clasped my hand, listened to Jake’s quick explanation, and told us to stay put while she checked the premises.
“No one’s inside,” she called back to us several minutes later. “Would you two come on up so you can tell me if anything is missing? I’ve got a team on their way out here, so don’t touch anything, if you don’t mind.”
Though my imagination immediately summoned a scene of carnage, something even worse than when we walked into the wreckage of my mother’s home with Shawn, the apartment didn’t look any different than when we left. My meager belongings were just where they should be.
At least, it appeared that way as we walked slowly through the kitchen and living room, then we headed toward the bedroom.
“I really don’t have anything of value, nothing worth stealing,” I murmured, but finding the apartment undisturbed made me sag against Jake in relief. There was no mess, no destruction, nothing broken but that single pane of glass.
When we reached the bedroom, though, the ruffled skirt I'd worn during my shopping trip with Sam was laid out in the middle of the bed, a bundle of shriveled forget-me-nots resting atop it. They looked like they’d been torn straight from the ground, each blossom crumpled in death, the roots still clinging to clumps of soil.
My breath stalled as panic washed through me anew.
“What the hell?” Jake whispered.
He'd been standing right there in the doorway while I finished packing my suitcase, had watched me smirk at him as I zipped it closed, thinking about the underwear reveal I had planned. The bed had been neatly made for once and the skirt tucked away in a drawer.
“You were here when I packed up. You asked about the skirt making the cut—it wasn’t there when we left. Right?” My voice trembled as hysteria rose in my chest, threatening to choke me.
“No, it wasn’t there.”
“Forget-me-nots,” I said shakily. “Are they from your yard?”
“They might be. Nora, look at me.”
Frozen, I stared at the flowers. The skirt was bad enough, but those withered blossoms felt like a harbinger of doom.
He turned me toward him, tearing my horrified gaze from the bed, and cupped my face in his hands. “You’re staying withme for a while, okay? Is there anything else here you need, once the police are done?”
I shook my head, not in answer but in an attempt to force my brain to function again. It felt like my insides were vibrating, threatening to shake right out of my skin.
“No, I brought my laptop to the inn, just in case I had a chance to do some work. My notebook should be on the coffee table but I don’t need it right away if the police want me to leave it here. Other than that, I’ll just need some extra clothes, I guess.”
With his hand wrapped firmly around my elbow, Jake led me back through the living room, but we both paused when I looked toward the low coffee table in front of the loveseat.
“No notebook,” Jake said quietly.
I frowned at that, but by then, the rest of the police officers had arrived. Jake spoke in low tones to Detective Hanson, then lifted my suitcase again and led me downstairs.
“I told her we’ll be out on the deck. Someone will be over to take our statements soon.”
