Page 9 of Secret Triplets for Christmas

"Maybe you just thought you did. It's not uncommon."

“I have a security system. I didn't even get a warning on my phone." As I realized that, my fear ramped up. Whoever got in had to know how to get past the security. Surely, that couldn’t be kids.

Detective Donovan’s brow furrowed. “That is strange. We'll have one of our tech people take a look. I assume that it also has visual, in which case we’ll need the video."

I nodded, suddenly feeling more unsettled. I liked it better when we thought it might just be kids.

"How long before I will be able to go in and clean it up?" Even as I said that, I wondered if I’d ever be able to feel safe in my home again. After I’d found Liam murdered in my home, I’d tried to continue to live there. It was a personal goal to beat my fear. But once Oliver moved away, I found it too hard to live there. For a short time, I lived with dad and Miranda, and then I moved into an apartment until I was able to buy my home last year.

"It’ll be a day or two. That will allow us to go through everything with a fine-tooth comb. Maybe one of our intruders dropped something."

“Intruders? Plural? You think there’s more than one?”

“Just a figure of speech. Could be one person. Could be a crew.”

I took a sip of my now tepid tea. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what happened.

My phone pinged with a notification. I pulled it out of my purse, checking the message. It said it was from a blocked phone, but Liam's name appeared.

Liam might be dead,but I still want what's mine.

My heart racedas adrenaline shot into my veins.

"Is something wrong?"

I looked up at Detective Donovan, my mind spinning out of control. Why was someone messaging me about Liam? Why on the same day my house was ransacked?

Memories came flooding back to the night I found Liam, including the one where I thought perhaps Liam was looking for something in my house. Or maybe hiding it.

But I didn't live there anymore. I moved out of there nearly five years ago. Surely, I would've noticed having something of his or something out of place when I packed everything up?

Detective Donovan's hand rested on my forearm. "Hey. What's going on? Could that be related to your break-in?"

"I don't know." My voice quavered. I handed him the phone to show him the text.

"Liam?" He glanced up at me. “Who is Liam?”

“He was my boyfriend. He was murdered five years ago. Liam Quinlan.”

Detective Donovan’s brows rose. "Liam Quinlan? Really?"

I nodded, curious about his reaction. “Why?”

"I knew Liam—or more accurately, his older brother Oliver—back when we were kids. I heard he'd been murdered and that it hadn’t been solved."

I nodded.

"Do you mind?" He motioned his hand toward the phone, indicating he wanted to take a closer look at the message.

"Please. Maybe I could figure out who it's from."

His brow furrowed as he began to poke and scroll and type into my phone. A few moments later, he handed the phone back to me. "It’s likely from a burner phone. I hope you don't mind that I took a screenshot and sent it to my phone. We'll see if maybe these two incidents are related. But I’ll also send it over to Homicide. Perhaps this could help them in Liam’s case."

“Do you think it’s related?” I couldn’t see how, and yet, how could it not be?

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Did Liam have something of someone else’s and this person thinks you have it?”

I shook my head. “Liam and I had broken up by then. He’d moved out. I’ve moved twice since then and haven’t ever seen anything that wasn’t mine or the girls’.”

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