SEALs of Honor: Cooper (13 page)

“But neither of the other two people showed,” he asked in surprise.

“Not that I could see. And I waited for an hour.”

“And it was the right time?”

“Yes,” she said tiredly, rubbing her temple as she slumped down in the car. “I checked and double checked. The right place at the right time.”

“Then she’s the one we need to check on first.”

“Fine, but I’m not going back into my house. I’ll go find a hotel or something for the night. I can’t force myself to step back inside.”

“Don’t go anywhere close to your house,” he snapped. “I’m in my vehicle. I’ll be out your way in a few minutes. Stay in the car.”

She stared down at her dead phone. “Wait. You don’t know where I live.”

But of course he didn’t answer. He was already driving.

She groaned, leaning her head against the headrest. As a precaution, she hit the lock on her doors, hearing the reassuringly click as all four doors locked. She was reduced to being a prisoner in her own car.

Not a good sign.

Given that she had no idea where he was in relation to her, but it was heading into rush hour traffic, she figured she had at least a twenty-minute wait. She opened her phone and tried Theresa again. No answer. She left a message again.

A vehicle drove slowly past her on the street. The man driving looked at her house and the car slowed yet again. She studied the vehicle, but she didn’t know it. Or the driver. The driver stuck his head out of the window and twisted to look behind him. His gaze caught sight of her in the car.

She slunk lower. Instantly he withdrew inside and gunned the car.

And raced away.

Shaking, she stayed low and wrapped her arms around her chest. Jesus, what the hell was going on?

When a Jeep drove past and slowed, she pushed herself up again and watched as Cooper parked in her driveway and got out. He took a quick look around, caught sight of her and motioned with his hand for her to stay there. And he disappeared around the back of her house. Leaving her to wait.

*

Cooper walked straight
to the back of the house, his gaze intent on the window fastenings, the door lock. Neither appeared to have been tampered with on this side. Didn’t mean an intruder didn’t break in on a different side. At the kitchen door, he paused. The door was ajar. Not by much, and it could have easily been from Sasha’s quick exit from the house. He applauded her common sense and intuition.

Even if this was a false alarm, it was better than finding her dead.

He nudged the door open and stepped inside. There were no footprints or other obvious signs of an intruder. And the knife she’d mentioned was missing from the butcher block.

But had she misplaced it?

Or had someone picked it up. He searched the downstairs, but there was no signs of forced entry. And the silence in the place was deafening. The house had an unlived look to it. Then she’d been gone for three months leaving it empty. Possibly it had been broken into during that time and her knife stolen then. Although a thief wouldn’t likely take the one knife from a set. Not if they were looking to pawn items.

His gaze landed on the new television. If there’d been a thief, they’d have taken the television. As they hadn’t, then a break in wasn’t the likely answer. The downstairs appeared to be empty and undisturbed.

He looked out the living room window to see Sasha outside in the car watching the house, her face creased with worry.

She’d been through a hell of an ordeal already. She appeared to be handling it – until today.

Then incidences piled up and pushed her to react in fear. Maybe justified. Maybe not.

He wished she’d called earlier when she first thought she was being followed. He understood. He’d been weeks looking over his shoulder after getting shot. It was something only another survivor would understand.

He’d been there and done that.

He was sorry she was here now.

Upstairs in the small two-story house he checked out the second bedroom first, but it was completely empty. He opened the closets anyway. Empty.

The bathroom was the same.

In the main bedroom he stopped, his breath caught in the back of his throat.

The bedding on the double bed had been shredded. By a large knife. And it was still on the center of the bed. Beside the knife was a picture of Sasha and her ex-husband Greg. The picture had been cut in half too.

Shit. Thank God Sasha had raced out of the house.

He checked that the bedroom was empty, his mind consumed with “what if” scenarios. He gave the rest of the room a cursory look to make sure it was empty. Then checked out the bathroom. On the way downstairs, he started the first of several calls. The police would have to be called in now. What if Sasha had gone upstairs? Would she have found the intruder?

He moved through the downstairs thinking about the minimal damage. Someone had been intent on scaring her – not hurting her.

Yet.

He took several deep breaths to try and still the anger coursing through him then carefully walked outside to her car.

She lowered her window. “Well?” she demanded. “I didn’t see anyone leave.”

“No, there’s no one in there.”

“Oh thank you!” she cried. “I was so worried when you didn’t come back out.” She smiled up at him, relief wreathing her face.

“And you should be,” he said in low tones. “Because someone was in the house earlier.”

She stared at him, then swallowed hard. “How do you know?” She clutched his hand. “Did you see them?”

He shook his head. “No, but they were in your bedroom. The missing knife was used to cut up the bedding.”

Her jaw dropped. “What? That’s just…” She shrugged. “Why? It makes no sense.”

“On top of the bedding, with the knife was a picture of you with your ex-husband. And the picture had been cut in half.”

She slumped into her seat. In a shaken whisper, she said, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s a message,” he said carefully. “Are you sure you have split completely with your husband? It’s like someone is telling you it’s over.”

“I know it’s over.” She stared at him earnestly. “I haven’t seen him since I got back. And he certainly wasn’t anyone I saw in the months before I left.”

She frowned. “But he did call my mother and ask her how he could reach me and told her how thankful he was that I’d survived the kidnapping.”

“That’s normal, if it was an amicable split.” He’d have done the same, maybe in a slightly different way, but if he’d been married and found out his ex had been through a traumatic ordeal he’d have called too. Not everyone hated their ex-partners.

“And you have no intention of going back to him?” he asked slowly, trying to read her facial expression.

She took a deep breath. “It wasn’t completely amicable,” she said in a low tone.

And he saw the pain, the anger. And the pride as she lifted her head and tossed her hair back. “No, I won’t be going back.”

“I hate to ask…” He winced. He really did hate to ask her for the details. Still the police would ask and pry and dig for more answers.

“I found him in bed with my best friend,” she said, staring straight ahead, her voice carefully devoid of any emotion. “I haven’t seen her since and my ex only when I couldn’t avoid it.”

Shit. As reasons went that was a good one. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, but I’m not the only one to find a good marriage was only a pipe dream,” she said bitterly. “Unfortunately I was blind to what was going on behind my back. I’m a workaholic, and he needed more than I could give him. At least that’s what he said.”

Cooper snorted. “He’s a child, not a man.”

She snickered. “Yeah, he screamed like a two-year-old afterwards as well.”

“Why is that?”

“My income is several times his. He thought he should get a portion of it, but the judge didn’t agree.”

“I should think not.” Cooper frowned. “Do you think he’s holding a grudge?”

Startled, she looked from him to her house then back to him. “I wouldn’t think so. He was pissed at the time, but I figured it was Maureen who was the angrier.”

“Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, she has an expensive lifestyle.”

“And she’d have been happier if he’d made out better?” he asked slowly, considering if a woman could be responsible for what he’d seen. And realized it had all the earmarks of a pissed off woman. Or someone tried to make it look that way.

Sasha shrugged. “Sure. I married for life. Not until someone better came along.”

“Right.” He really liked that statement. “The police are on their way.”

“Damn.” She studied the house. “I’ll go to my mother’s house for the night.”

He shook his head. “I wouldn’t do that. You don’t want to bring her in to this.” He motioned to the house behind him. “If they know you well enough to attack you in your space here, you don’t want them to think the next step is to go to your mother’s house to get to you.”

Her face blanched. A police cruiser drove down the street toward therm. Her fingers trembled on the steering wheel. She dropped them to her lap and clenched them tightly.

When the cruiser stopped and parked on the driveway of Sasha’s house, Cooper gave her an admonishment to stay in the vehicle and he went over to talk to them.

I
t was hours
before the cops left.

They’d brought in a crew to take pictures and dust for fingerprints. There’d been many conversations about the events overseas as the police looked for a connection. Cooper had answered most of the questions for her.

She didn’t know what all they were doing now. She tried to keep out of it and was currently on her kitchen chair hugging a cup of coffee that Cooper had made for her. She had enough on her mind. She had to find a place to stay for the night, a few days maybe. She wasn’t staying here. She would also have to get the locks changed, but all she could think about was moving. She’d originally wanted to buy a house after the divorce but had been too unsettled and the prices were so crazy she didn’t want to make a snap decision.

Good thing she held off.

Now all she could think about was getting the hell away. If she owned the property, it would take much longer to get out.

She also wanted to move quietly so the intruder wouldn’t know. And that was foolish. He had likely been watching the house since the beginning and would be expecting exactly that. He’d just follow her to the next house.

The cops had asked her so many questions, and after all the questioning she’d been through already, she’d quickly slipped into monotone answers to get through the process as quickly as possible.

“We’ll need your contact information.”

She pulled out her cellphone and gave him her number. While in Turkey, her phone had been in the safe most of the time. Now she wondered if it was part of the problem. But to think someone had gone through her phone and tracked her to her home was over the top. Yet this wasn’t a random attack. Restless, she wanted to pack up a bag and leave…and run a long way away. Last time she’d left the country. And look at how well that had worked. She really needed a safe place to hole up and think.

She had lots of decisions to make, and no idea how to make them. First things first… “Can I go into my room and pack a bag?”

“Yes, I’ll take you up.”

She nodded and walked upstairs to her bedroom. Her mind busied, cataloging what she needed to pack. That made it easier when she arrived in her bedroom. She took one look at the bed and blanched. Then turned and hurried to the closet and pulled out her single bag. She quickly packed the bulk of her clothes before collecting the toiletries from the bathroom. As she stuffed what little she had, she realized how meager her personal possessions were. She’d done a major clean out of her belongings when she left her husband. That left her very little to move to this house. Being unsettled and needing a change, she’d avoided buying much after setting up on her own and then she’d gone overseas. Her clothing requirements, although more now than in the refugee camp, weren’t extensive. She cast one long look at the bedroom she knew she’d never sleep in again and picked up her bag and walked downstairs.