say. Have a nice evening.”
Eve watched him walk back to his cruiser, then tucked the used tissue in her bag and tossed the box in the backseat. “I’ll drive you home.”
“You know what?” Matt’s voice turned thoughtful. “I think maybe I’d better take that cab.”
She watched as he got out of the car, wanting to tell him she was sorry, and that her ex-husband was the one she was angry with, not him. He was more like a civilian casualty.
Matt hesitated, then reached back in and grabbed the twenty off the dash. “I’m a little short on cash.” He gave her an exaggerated smile before he turned away from her.
He had a right to be angry, too. She should be relieved this was how he expressed it. Instead, it made her feel awful. There wasn’t much left for her to do other than leave him standing in the street, with the red-and-blue police lights pirouetting behind him. She drove off, a spittle of mist dampening her windshield, guilt and mortification eating at her conscience.
By the time she reached her neighborhood, the mist had graduated to streaming black rivers of rain. She wiped the steam off her windshield with the back of her hand, hoping Matt had his cellphone with him. Otherwise, he was going to have a long, wet walk back to his hotel, and she had enough to apologize for already.
The inky eyes of her house gaped at her as she cut the car engine. She groped for the door handle, wishing she’d thought to leave her front light on. Readying her house key, she made a mad dash through the downpour, fumbled with the deadbolt, then slammed the door shut behind her, shaking the water from her hair and face. The clock on the mantle in her living room chimed the hour, chasing a sudden chill up her backbone.
Her house felt…different.
Half turning, Eve noticed a daub of mud on the first step of the stairs leading to the second story. She tried to think of how that mud might have gotten there and couldn’t come up with anything comforting.
Someone had been in her house…and she had a good idea who it had been. But she didn’t know whether or not he was still there.
With adrenaline warping through her veins at lightning speed, she jerked open the door and fled back through the rain to her car. It wasn’t until she was six blocks from her home that she slowed down.
Pulling the car to the curb, she pressed her hot cheek against the steering wheel and considered her options. She wondered if she should call the police. Again. And be brushed off. Again. She could still hear the officer’s calm, reasoning voice that night years ago when she’d made the decision to leave Claude.
“In order to get a peace bond, you’ll have to prove the person poses a threat to your safety. If the person obeys the peace bond for a year, though, you won’t be able to get it renewed. Are you sure this is the route you want to go?”
She hadn’t bothered back then because he was leaving the country. Besides, she had punched him. He hadn’t hit her, he’d only threatened, as far as logistics were concerned. And she wasn’t going to the police now only to have them tell her that a phone call, a funny feeling, and a few specks of dirt weren’t enough by way of evidence to get her a peace bond this time.
She wasn’t going to run crying to her brothers, either. It was a little late to be telling them the truth about her marriage. That window of opportunity had closed a long time ago. She did have work boots and a pair of coveralls in her car, though, and plenty of work left to do at that volunteer project Bob had conned her into. She could spend the night shaving those doors down, then go back to her house when daylight came.
And if she worked hard enough, maybe she could forget for a while that she owed Matt an apology.
…
Matt’s long legs ate up the steep city sidewalk, the early morning sunshine warming the nape of his neck, a trickle of sweat dampening the back of his moisture-wicking running shirt.
He’d Googled Eve’s home address—not without difficulty—and decided to work it into his morning run. It felt sort of stalker-ish, but at the same time he wanted to make sure she was okay. He didn’t know her well, but even