felt defiled, something hanging in the air that made her want to escape the place that had always been a sanctuary. Her home. The place she’d filled with the basic things she’d never had growing up—warm, clean blankets and cabinets full of food—and even things that simply made her happy like artwork and books, small treasures that didn’t cost a lot but spoke to her heart. And now? Now he’d been there and it would never feel the same again.
No, not him. Not him. It couldn’t be him. But someone.
A knock on the door startled her from her dark thoughts. “That’ll be the criminalist,” Reed said, heading for the door. She waited in the living room with the other officers and a minute later, Reed came in with a young woman wearing black cargo pants and a blue collared shirt with the CPD logo on it, holding a large, black case.
“This is Maria Vasquez. She’s going to bag the evidence in your room and dust for prints there, on the front door, and in your office where he might have touched something else that we can match for a print.”
Liza bobbed her head. She could only imagine this process was going to take a while, and she was so incredibly exhausted. She was honestly worried she might fall over right there. Be careful what you wish for, she thought as she remembered her desperate attempt at chasing sleep earlier that night. “I . . . think I’m going to go to a hotel. Can I just pack a couple of things?”
Reed frowned, started to say something, seemed to think better of it and nodded. “That’s not a bad idea. I’ll drive you.” He looked at the criminalist. “Will you take her to her room and help her grab the things she needs, Maria?”
“Absolutely,” the woman said with a kind smile.
Liza was about to tell her that wasn’t necessary, but, truthfully, she preferred not to be alone in her bedroom at the moment. So she nodded, and followed the woman from the room, her steps shaky, the fear in her body draining, but leaving behind an empty void.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Reed watched Liza disappear into her room with Maria. He turned and let out a gust of breath. This was the last place he’d expected to be tonight, and under circumstances he was still attempting to understand.
“We’ll stay while Maria works,” Foster said. “And make sure the place is locked up when we leave.”
“Thanks—”
A knock sounded at the door. Reed turned, wondering if they’d sent another criminalist to help make things quicker. But when he pulled Liza’s door open, Chad Headley was standing there, his clothes damp, hair wet and pushed back as if he’d just run across town through the rain. He looked surprised to see Reed.
“Officer Davies.”
Reed ignored the incorrect title. For some reason, he got the feeling it had been purposeful, meant to lower him somehow. Smug asshole. “Dr. Headley,” he said, standing back so the man could enter.
“I talked to Liza. It sounded like she needed me. Is she okay?”
A ripple of something Reed didn’t want to name, and certainly didn’t have a right to, moved down his spine. “She will be. She’s shaken up, but okay.”
“Do you have any idea who the intruder was?”
“No. Liza initially thought it looked like her father, but that’s not possible as he’s deceased. Can you think of an older man—maybe someone you work with—who would have any reason to break into Dr. Nolan’s residence?”
“No. No idea.” But the man looked troubled suddenly.
“Chad? What are you doing here?” Liza stood in the hall, a travel bag in her hand as she looked at them.
Headley rushed to where she stood, taking her upper arms in his grasp. “I was so worried.”
“I told you I was fine. Chad, really, you should go.”
Reed moved toward where they stood, holding out his hand for Liza’s bag, but she gave a small shake of her head. “I still need some stuff from the bathroom.”
“Where are you going?” Headley asked, a note of accusation to his tone.
Liza had obviously heard it too because she paused, her eyes narrowing. “I’m going to a hotel. Ree . . . Detective Davies is going to drive me there.”
Headley shot Reed a quick look. “I can drive you there. Even better, you can stay with me. Why stay at a hotel when you have a friend, Liza?”
“Thank you, Chad, but no. Please. You should go.” Liza looked back toward her bedroom. “Maria is