The Sinner - Molly O'Keefe Page 0,11

the break-in.

There was a man in my house.

But Margot was right. Things were different around the Manor. The pranks had turned ugly. Suspicious. Having someone keeping watch was smart.

“We can’t even play hide-and-seek,” Katie moaned, looking out the window over my printer to the courtyard below. “That man is there.”

I tried not to look, but Matt was a magnet and I had all the willpower of iron shavings.

The gray T-shirt clinging to his back was nearly black with sweat, and his dark brown hair was wet and thick against his strong neck. Through my open window it seemed the wind carried his scent to me, sweat, sunshine and wood.

And if all that wasn’t bad enough, at some point midmorning, Matt had put on glasses.

Glasses. I mean…

The librarian in me liked bookish men. Bookish men with the shoulders and biceps of men used to doing hard work.

He was going to be staying here. Downstairs. A hundred yards from where I slept. It had been years since someone other than Katie and Margot had shared this house with me.

I didn’t know if I was grateful for his presence or sick over it.

“Yes, he is there,” I said. The thought was comforting. As well as really unnerving. And a little exciting.

He was a guard dog. A big one. And considering the events of the morning, I’d even say he was a good one.

“I thought he was going to punch Officer Jones in the face,” bloodthirsty Katie said, her eyes sparkling. She pulled back her fist and I caught it and kissed the little knuckles, hard and smooth like diamonds under flesh. “It was a bit intense, wasn’t it?”

Watching Matt, a stranger to us, jump to our defense, I’d actually wished he would hit Officer Jones. Officer Jones who apparently still hadn’t gotten over Vanessa dumping him in high school.

We just can’t get a break.

Again, I looked at Matt, wondering somehow if he was here to balance the scales for us. Something sweet for all the bitter we’d been eating.

Honest to God help.

It seemed unimaginable.

There had to be a catch. The universe didn’t send blessings to the O’Neills without payment of some kind.

“I’m going to go get something to eat,” Katie said, scrambling off my numb knees.

“Good idea,” I said, clearing my screen of the computer games we’d been playing. Work, I thought, it was time to focus on work.

Knights Templar. Warriors and protectors. I’d start there.

But my gaze strayed outside. To Matt.

My blood was beginning to buzz, the O’Neill curse manifesting in me the way it always did. Curiosity. God, it killed me every time. I could bury it, channel it into my job. Research every natural disaster in the southern hemisphere before the 1700s. Find every voodoo use for frog blood.

But right now I wanted to go out there and research our new handyman. I shook my head, gritted my teeth and chained myself to my work.

But even as I did it, I knew it wouldn’t last.

I was an O’Neill after all.

MATT

It was late afternoon. I could tell by the thickness and heft of the sunlight hitting what remained of the greenhouse—the cement pad.

I stripped off my gloves and wiped my dripping forehead with the sleeve of my shirt. Useless, considering the saturation of that sleeve. The whole shirt, actually.

Good God, it was hot. So hot the air was thick in my throat and prickles of heat crawled up and down my legs under sweat-soaked work pants.

My socks were wet. It was disgusting.

I hadn’t done this kind of labor since I’d worked for that civil engineer during college. I was the idea man these days. The suit and tie wearing boss. Well, until I fucked it all up.

The work felt good. Clean, somehow.

There were worse ways to wait for Vanessa to show up, and it sure as hell beat watching the four walls of my condo close in around me. And now that I was spending the night here – I’d have more opportunity to look around. Maybe I didn’t need Vanessa. Maybe the gems were here. That seemed like a huge long shot, but it wouldn’t hurt to look around.

Scrap from the greenhouse still needed to be carried out to the curb, but now I could get to work making sure the back wall was safe—the farthest corner had slid apart into a loose heap.

I felt eyes on the back of my neck and sighed. Seriously, that little girl was getting to be a pest. Not that she did anything, or