pregnant.”
“So, that complicated everything.”
“Yeah. Cady was thrilled. To be fair, the pregnancy seemed to make Greg act like an adult. He started cooking for her instead of encouraging her to eat practically nothing.” He swallowed, darkness coming over his eyes. “She was four months along when they skipped off to Vegas and came back married.” His lips pressed in a tight line. “At just over five months, Cady lost the baby, and Greg went back to being a jerk.”
“I’m sorry.”
Matt shook his head. “Greg blamed Cady, even though it was no one’s fault.”
Bree couldn’t hold back her anger. “What an ass.”
“Yeah. As upset as Cady was, she knew he was off base. She left him.”
Bree sensed the story wasn’t over.
“Greg took the breakup like a nasty four-year-old who was angry because someone had taken away one of his toys. He followed her. He harassed her. He alternated between sending her flowers and leaving nasty notes on her car.” Matt shook his head. “Even grieving, Cady did everything right. She used her head and got a restraining order. I tried not to get involved. I tried very hard.”
“Until?”
“Greg crossed the line. He started following her, always staying just beyond the required hundred feet. Cady looked out her window one night, and he was parked just up the road. He was watching her. She called the sheriff’s department, but Greg was more than a hundred feet away. Technically, he was obeying the order.”
With a man like that, a restraining order was about as useful as cardboard body armor.
Bree fumed. “He wanted to punish her.”
“Cady was grieving, and the man who should have been supporting her was acting like a dick.” Matt swallowed. “I’m not particularly proud of what I did next.”
“You encouraged him to leave her alone?”
“Yeah. Let’s go with that. I strongly encouraged him to leave Cady alone.” He curled a hand into a fist. “He never bothered Cady again.”
I’ll bet he didn’t.
Some people only respected physical superiority.
Bree glanced at Matt’s profile. It wasn’t just his height and coloring that always brought Vikings to mind. He was big-boned and powerful-looking, from his square jaw to his hands. She could easily picture him swinging a broadsword or battle-ax.
Matt’s fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel.
“I assume you know where he lives?” she asked.
“I might keep track of him.”
Bree turned on the dashboard computer. “What’s his last name?”
“Speck.”
Bree confirmed his address with Matt. “Gregory Speck, age thirty-eight. No priors. Except for that restraining order you mentioned, his criminal record is clean.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“He works at a gym.”
Matt parked and they stepped out into the street. Bree smelled rain in the damp night air. She squinted at the sky, where clouds drifted like heavy fog in front of the moon. More storms were forecasted. Rain washed away evidence.
“Hold on.” She opened the back of the vehicle and removed their vests.
Matt waited, impatience vibrating through his body. She tossed her sling into the back of the vehicle and shrugged into the vest. Her bullet wound throbbed. Matt put on his own armor and helped her with the straps of hers. Then he turned toward the house.
“Hold on.” Bree stepped in front of him and held out both hands. “You wait here.”
Matt folded his arms across his chest and glared at Greg’s front door.
“Please,” she said. “Your presence will not make him more cooperative, and you’re wasting time.”
Matt returned to the SUV. He used the ramp to let Brody out of the back seat and stood in the street with the dog at his side. She sighed. Matt and Brody were damned threatening even from a distance.
Bree wasn’t in uniform, but she was wearing her badge on her belt, and her marked SUV was parked at the curb. She knocked on the door. The man who answered it was about six feet tall with the chiseled face and body of a male model. He coughed into his fist, the sound wet and nasty. Bree took a quick step backward.
“Mr. Speck, I’m Sheriff Taggert.” She showed her badge. “When was the last time you had contact with your ex-wife, Cady Flynn?”
He didn’t answer. His gaze lifted over her shoulder. He bristled and stepped forward.
Bree assumed he’d seen Matt.
Brody barked, and Greg’s forward motion stopped as if he’d hit a force field. “Get him off my property,” he said to Bree without taking his eyes off Matt.
Bree glanced over her shoulder. Matt was still in the street.
“He isn’t on your property,” she said.
Greg walked