See You at Sunset (27 page)

Holly glanced back at the dresser. Florence had kept her meds lined up there, but they were gone.

She felt like her heart was trying to punch its way out of her chest. “Oh my God, Micah.”

“I know,” he growled from down the hall, reading her reaction. “Beatrice’s is trashed too.”

She bent down and picked up Florence’s mahogany jewelry box, desperately looking for the art deco diamond brooch from her aunt’s grandmother. It was a beautiful piece, probably the only thing worth stealing in the room. That brooch was not only valuable—worth about ten thousand dollars, according to their insurance appraiser—it meant the moon and stars in sentimental value to Florence.

Holly rooted frantically around on the floor, but there was no sign of the brooch there either. Several other small pieces were gone too. Near the jewelry box rested a half-empty pill bottle she remembered seeing earlier, an antibiotic prescription filled almost a year ago. After putting the bottle back on the dresser, she went down onto her knees and retrieved a gold-framed photo that had been tossed halfway under the bed. The glass was shattered, so she held the frame carefully to avoid getting cut as she scrambled back up.

Her heart shredding, she stared at the faded color photograph of Florence, Beatrice, and Holly’s mother, young and gorgeous and staring at the camera with a dazzling smile as they posed in front of Jenkins General Store. The picture had stood on her aunt’s dresser for as long as she could remember.

Choking back tears, she carefully shook the broken glass into the wastebasket and set the frame back on the dresser. Somehow, it felt like a small act of defiance in the face of such wanton destruction.

“Holly, come to your room,” Micah said in a calm voice. Too calm.

She wheeled and rushed down the hall.

Micah stood like a statue in her doorway, his dark gaze full of regret. He slowly moved aside to let her pass.

The pretty, cozy space was barely recognizable. Her clothes had been ripped out of the drawers and strewn across the floor and bed, and the closet emptied. The top of her dresser had also been swept clean, her books and cosmetics in a jumbled heap on the floor. A few bottles had cracked open, leaking concealer and moisturizer that made a mess on the polished floorboards.

Even worse, Drew’s picture had landed in the corner opposite her bed, and the glass was cracked. She couldn’t even bring herself to pick it up, knowing that looking at her husband’s face right now would slice her heart in two. “The son of a bitch.” Holly hardly recognized her own voice it was so choked with anger.

Micah came up behind her and put his arms around her, embracing her tightly. Holly gave in to furious tears then, turning into his chest as she tried to choke back the sobs.

“Just take some deep breaths,” he said in a soothing voice as he gently stroked his hand up and down her spine. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

She wanted that to be true, but right now she felt shattered. How could this happen to her again? And what would it do to her aunts?

Holly pulled in a few shuddering breaths, then slipped out of Micah’s grasp. He seemed reluctant to let her go. The truth was, she didn’t want him to let her go, but she needed to start dealing with the cleanup and aftermath.

She went down on her knees and began to sift through the mess. Of course, the two hundred or so dollars in cash she’d stashed in her top drawer was gone. The only other item of value she’d brought with her was a gold Tiffany pendant with pavé diamonds that Jackson had given her not long after they started dating. It was worth a considerable sum, and now she could kick herself for bringing it with her.

Fortunately, she’d left her computer and iPad locked in the store’s office.

“See anything missing?” Micah asked, hunkering down beside her.

All her other jewelry was costume—cheap and cheery—and based on a quick look around, Holly suspected none of it had been taken. “A diamond pendant and about two hundred dollars cash so far.”

Micah’s eyes pinched shut for a split second. “I’m sorry, babe.”

“The pendant was from Jackson, so at least there was no sentimental value,” she said. “But Florence is going to be devastated to lose her grandmother’s brooch.”

“I’m sure. Anyway, you know you’ll need to make a list of everything that’s missing.”

“Of course.” She forced herself to say what they might both be thinking. “Cain could have come straight here from the dance.”

He reached out and gently brushed her hair back over her shoulder. “Yeah, he could have.”

“He was asking me a lot of questions about Florence and Beatrice.”

If looks could kill, Micah’s expression would be enough to do it. “Cain or his buddy could have done this for sure, but thinking it is one thing and proving it is another.” He helped her up from the floor. “I didn’t see any drugs in Beatrice’s room. How about in Florence’s?”

“Just an expired antibiotics prescription.” But she knew that Micah should have found one prescription bottle in Beatrice’s room—the hydrocodone Holly had picked up only a few days earlier. Her aunt used it whenever her back acted up, and she hadn’t taken it with her to the hospital. “But you’re sure there’s nothing in Beatrice’s room?”

He frowned. “Are you saying she
had
drugs there?”

“There should be a full bottle of pain pills.” She headed to Beatrice’s room, where the mess was similar to the other two rooms.

Micah started sifting through the debris on the floor.

“We know he took them,” Holly said morosely. “Why even bother looking?”

“You’re completely sure Beatrice didn’t take that bottle with her?”

“Of course I am.” God, now she sounded like a bitch.

Micah got up. “Okay, I’m going to get my camera out of the car and take some pictures. After that, I’ll take a good look around outside and talk to your neighbors up the street. Then I’ll come back here.”

She was glad Micah wouldn’t be rushing off. “I doubt the neighbors will have seen anything. There’s no line of sight to the porch.”

“No, but they might have noticed a car parked nearby that they didn’t recognize or someone hanging around the neighborhood who doesn’t live here. Anyway, it’s standard practice in a burglary case to talk to the neighbors as soon as possible.”

“Okay, sorry to be so snappy.”

Pulling her into a brief hug, he kissed the top of her head. “Don’t be silly. You’re doing great.”

He let her go, taking all the warmth with him as he headed out to the hall. “I should take a quick look at Florence’s room.”

Still feeling shaky, Holly followed him.

Micah picked up the pill bottle and stared at the label. “Seriously? A half-used, year-old antibiotic prescription? Aren’t you supposed to finish the whole thing?”

Holly let out a sigh. “Florence following doctors’ orders? Please. But I’m sure she was going to take that bottle back to Watson’s for disposal at some point. She and Beatrice always do that with their unused meds.” She sank down onto the messy bed, trying to figure out where to start with the cleanup.

Micah eyed her. “Why don’t you call Morgan or Lily to help you clean up the mess and keep you company? I really don’t want you staying here alone tonight.”

She tried to pull herself together. “I doubt the burglar will make an encore appearance. I’ll be fine, Micah.”

He propped his hands on his hips, scowling slightly and looking every inch a lawman. He also looked like everything she could want in a
man
—strong, dependable, protective, and loving. Concern for her came off him in waves.

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I can barely imagine what it feels like to have your home invaded twice in one year. I’d like to not just arrest the guy—honest to God, I’d like to tear him apart.”

Micah thrust out his jaw and clenched his huge fists, looking like he totally meant what he said.

“Me too,” Holly said grimly. “But just catch him, okay?”

“You’re damn right I will.” Micah turned and headed for the stairs.

Holly listened to him jog downstairs, and then heard the front door slamming behind him. She dragged herself back to her room and, crouching down carefully, picked up Drew’s picture. Only a few shards of glass were still attached to the damaged frame. In the dead quiet of the empty house, she gazed down into her husband’s smiling eyes.

Shit, Drew. What do I do now?

Chapter 22

F
or the last half hour, Micah had cautioned himself to think like a cop, not like a man who wanted to beat the crap out of the guy who’d just hurt the woman he loved. Just because Logan Cain was a grade A jerk didn’t mean he was a burglar. But his gut was pointing him more and more in the direction of Cain and his pal Horton as the guilty parties. Too many coincidences, especially for one little island.

And dammit, he
did
love Holly. He’d known that for a long time, but hearing her choked sobs as he held her in his arms tonight—as she was trying so hard to hold it together—had toppled all his emotional walls and cracked his heart wide open.

He’d do anything to protect her and help her get over what had happened to her both tonight and in the past. Anything.

But don’t be stupid, dude. And sure as hell don’t do something that might jeopardize a felony conviction later.

His tactical flashlight in hand, he’d spent about ten minutes carefully moving around the exterior of the house, looking for footprints or anything else that might even approximate a clue. He’d scrambled down the shallow rocky ledge to the shoreline below on the slight chance that the thief might have beached a boat down there and made his way up to the rear of the house. But he’d found no footprints there or anywhere else. And it might not have mattered much if he had anyway, since God only knew how long it would have taken to get a crime scene technician over to collect and analyze the evidence.

While he knew it would always be hard to get the kind of resources he needed to do his job in little Seashell Bay, he’d never had to confront the frustration until this series of break-ins.

After finishing his circuit, he’d walked up Island Road to the Garvey house, the closest to Florence and Beatrice’s place. A pajama-clad Ken and Janet had welcomed him inside and offered coffee, which he’d declined. Neither had seen anything going on at the Jenkins house tonight. Janet did, however, mention that she’d noticed a man walking down the hill when she looked out an upstairs window as she was getting ready for bed. Because it was unusual for people to be walking about at midnight in Seashell Bay, Micah’s ears perked up. Unfortunately, her description was almost uselessly vague. Fairly tall. Not fat, not thin, neither young nor old. Just a fairly tall guy wearing a baseball cap and a dark jacket.

Which described about half the men on the island.

Tomorrow, Micah would canvass more homes up the hill, hoping to find others who might have seen that lone man walking—or maybe parking a car. But he didn’t need to wake those folks up tonight. Especially not when he wanted to get back to Holly as soon as he could.

Heading back down the slope, he tapped on her front door with his flashlight. When Holly threw the door open, she was barefoot and now wore black exercise pants and a yellow tank top—her bee outfit, as he’d heard her aunts call it.

Micah called it sexy as hell, especially with her hair down in a gorgeous mess around her shoulders.

Holly didn’t hide the relief in her gaze and welcoming smile. “Find anything?” she asked as she stepped aside to let him in. She shut and locked the door behind them.

“Not much. Janet Garvey said she saw a man walking down the hill sometime before midnight, but her description isn’t going to be much help.”

“Could it have been Cain?”

He snorted. “It could have been just about anybody.”

“Kind of an odd time to be going for a walk around here,” she said, leading him into the kitchen. “Want some tea?”

Micah would have preferred a shot of whisky but nodded. “I’d have been a lot more excited if she’d seen a parked car and given me a decent description of it.”

“For sure.” She poured tea into a white mug.

“Did you call Morgan yet?”

“Micah, I know you think I should, but I’m going to be okay. Really I am.”

“You don’t sound okay to me.” In fact, her voice sounded totally strained and she looked exhausted.

“I’m a little shaken up, but I’ll be fine.”

When she handed over the mug, he caught the slight tremble of her hand. “Okay, but then I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

Her eyes popped wide. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll sit in the cruiser until you get up in the morning. Because I’m sure you’re not going to get a single minute of sleep if you’re all alone here.”

When she started to object, he held up a hand. “Come on, you know I’m right.”

She sighed. “Micah, that would be crazy. It’s incredibly sweet of you to offer, but—”

“It’s not an offer, Holly. It’s just a fact. It’s what I’m going to do.”

“Micah—”

“Look, I’d do the same for any islander. You know that.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and studied him. Then her mouth parted in a smile so sweet it almost took him out at the knees. “Yes, I do. And I also know you’re the most stubborn deputy sheriff on the whole darn planet, so there’s no point in arguing with you. But you don’t have to sit out there in the cruiser, you crazy man. You’re welcome to sleep on the sofa.”

Micah had figured she might say that. But there was no way he was going to spend the night in the house with Holly. He could barely keep his hands off her as it was. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve got to be feeling…”

Well, she was vulnerable now, and vulnerable people often did things they regretted later. They’d already played that song after that night at Jerry’s dock. “Holly, it’s just not a good idea.”

A blush colored her pale cheeks as she shook her head. “That’s very—”

“It’s non-negotiable,” he interrupted. He didn’t want to hear her tell him how
decent
or
kind
he was, or some other shit like that. That wasn’t what he wanted from her.