the total opposite of a jock, and believed in his heart that everything could be resolved without resorting to violence. Hell, the only fight he’d ever been in had ended when the other kid threw the first punch—the only punch—and bloodied his nose. He’d learned his strengths and limitations that day, and confronting a possible burglar definitely fell under limitations.
“Look, the Copper Lake P.D. is good. My sister works for them. They can have an officer here in no time, and I’ll wait until...” He let his words trail off when her head-shaking became emphatic enough to send her hair swinging.
“No police. It’s—it’s okay. I shouldn’t have asked. I’ll just...” She looked as if she didn’t have a clue what she would do.
Stephen sighed silently. “All right. No problem. Just let me get Scooter. I don’t want to leave him alone in the car.”
Her distress eased a little but didn’t go away completely. He didn’t know why she was so adamant about not calling the police—though there was his earlier theory that she wasn’t really Macy Howard—but he was pretty sure she wished one of her braver, brawnier neighbors had come along. Instead, she was stuck with the king of let’s-talk-this-out and a mutt who didn’t know the meaning of confrontation.
He opened the rear door of the car and set Scooter free, then turned back to find Macy already halfway to the door.
“My keys are inside,” she explained.
On many of his trips through the neighborhood, he’d wondered how the Lord Gentry of Woodhaven Villas lived. The inside of Macy’s house definitely lived up to his imagination. With her hustling ahead and Scooter trotting along beside him, he didn’t get a chance to see much—though he definitely recognized Macy in the giant wedding portrait in the living room; so much for the jewel thief or intruder theory—but what he saw was impressive. It was too big, too showy and seriously unwelcoming, but he was impressed.
She walked quickly, sweeping keys and cell off the kitchen island, marching to the patio door. There she hesitated, and he was about to suggest a call to 911 again when, as if she’d made a decision, she unlocked the door and strode toward the guesthouse.
The entrance faced north and the gardens instead of the main house. They climbed the brick-edged steps to the porch, then it took a while to unlock the door. She probably needed both hands to guide the shaking key into the little hole. Finally the tumblers fell into place, and she stepped back to allow him to enter first.
In his practice, he’d faced vicious pigs, aggressive dogs, recalcitrant horses and a huge number of cats that had tried to rip his skin off. He’d been bitten, scratched and stepped on, but that was okay. The animals had mostly been scared. They hadn’t intended to hurt him. Except maybe the cats. But an intruder who’d broken into an unoccupied house, who, as far as they knew, could have been hiding there since Macy had moved out...
Fortunately for Stephen when he opened the door, Scooter didn’t overthink situations. He sniffed the air, then trotted right past Stephen and Macy and into the living room, his nails clicking on the wood floor. He didn’t seem fearful, his hair wasn’t standing on end, he wasn’t on alert. If anyone had been here, they were likely gone.
The living room, dining room and kitchen ran from front to back, occupying the middle third of the house. Doorways on each side led off, presumably, to bedrooms. There was a whole different vibe to the little house compared with the big one. The colors were warmer and lighter, the furniture more about comfort. Even with the blinds closed, it didn’t seem as dark here as the big house did with all those windows.
Stephen followed Scooter through the room, checking possible hiding places, looking inside a coat closet and a pantry. Macy stayed a few steps behind him. “Does anything look out of place?”
When she didn’t answer, he glanced over his shoulder to see her shaking her head from side to side.
“Where did you think you saw this person?”
“At the window. There.” She pointed to the doorway on the right, and their odd little entourage moved that way. The bedroom was sparsely furnished with sleek pieces and a serene blue-gray color scheme. It was simple, elegant. Like the woman behind him.
He went to the window that faced the house, double-wide with wooden blinds the same delicate gray as the bed linens.