Page 87 of Sheltered By Love

I’m getting so close to hysterical that I can barely get out the words when well-meaning neighbors try to ask me if I’m okay.

None of them seem to understand me, it’s like I’m speaking a foreign language and for all the good it does me, I may as well have been.

I reach the end of the street, completely out of hope Roger hasn’t been hit by one of the police cars as they drove here.

Stifling tears, I make my way back to the house, legs, and heart heavy as more vehicles arrive outside my home.

I’m so distracted, my eyes on the road, I miss that someone has come alongside me.

A woman’s voice purrs soothingly as she looks at me. “I’m not sure what it is you’ve lost, but maybe I help you look?”

I turn and look and see a woman, around my age, with a sharp nose, startling green eyes, and a dark bob haircut smiling at me.

In the moonlight, she looks like The Cheshire Cat and my stomach sends me a little warning this is not a woman to be trusted.

I shake my head. “Thanks, but no.”

Her smile doesn’t shift. “You’ve had an eventful night. First the ball, then all this.”

I stop walking and stare at her. “Pardon me?

She smiles again, no longer looking like The Cheshire Cat but Cruella de Vil on the hunt for puppies.

“Do you like the attention? Is that why you do these things?”

My lungs seize as my stomach dips to my sneakers. “What things?”

She opens her mouth, but she doesn’t get a chance to elaborate on what these things could possibly mean.

Garrett is approaching, and given his hand is resting on his gun, whoever this woman is, he is not pleased she’s here.

“Ms. Wilson, I said I’d give you an official statement back at the station,” he says.

She lifts her nose. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t try to get interviews,” she says.

My body tenses at the serious expression on his face. “And I wouldn’t be doing mine if I didn’t tell you to stop accosting a witness.”

He puts his hand on my shoulder and steers me back to the house, waving away neighbors who want to talk.

I glance sidelong at him. “Was that the reporter?”

He frowns and nods his head. “Unfortunately,” he says.

I don’t have a chance to ask if I should be worried, a frazzled-looking police officer carrying a cage appears.

“Took me thirty damn minutes to find this thing,” he complains.

Garrett grunts. “Good. Next time you’ll be more careful,” he says.

As the pet carrier is grudgingly shoved into my hand relief floods through me.

“Thank you,” I say.

“Don’t thank me. Zane got everyone to prioritize a Search and rescue op,” Garrett replies.

Zanedid that?

Before I can say another word, Garrett takes on a stern expression. “You put yourself in danger disregarding Zane’s instructions not to leave the house tonight,” he says.

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