Unbound (Crimson Romance)

by Nikkie Locke

  “When can Payten have her house back?”

  “I don’t know. Not until the end of the week at the earliest, and that’s just a guess.”

  “Fine. I’ll tell Payten.” He got up to leave.

  “I need to take your statement.”

  Grinding his teeth, he sat back down. He watched his dad turn on the small recorder lying on his desk. He had never been one for taking notes.

  “When did you arrive at Payten’s house last night?”

  “A little before eight. I was early.”

  “Aren’t you always?” Carl asked. “Why were you there?”

  “Is that really important?”

  Carl shrugged.

  He sighed. “I had a date with Payten last night. I picked her up a little before eight. We went to Smitty’s. The band played, we danced, and we went back to her house. We got there a little before eleven-thirty. We hung out in the kitchen until almost one. We said goodbye, and I went home. When I got there, Burke was calling telling me to get my ass back. Good enough?”

  “Almost. You told Burke the door was unlocked when you got there?” Carl asked.

  “It was. I didn’t think about it at the time, but it was.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive,” Dean answered.

  “Did you notice anything else unusual? Things moved around? Shades open that shouldn’t have been?”

  “No. I wasn’t looking, though. Are we done?”

  Carl nodded. “Good enough. You can go.”

  “Can Payten get some clothes and stuff out of the house?”

  “No. No one should be in the house until after the forensic team goes through it.”

  “Call me when they’re done, okay?” Dean asked.

  He nodded. “I’ll do that.”

  Dean stood and paced the small space of the office.

  “What is it?”

  “This isn’t just a kids’ prank,” Dean answered. “The phone calls, maybe. What they did to the dog? That note?” He shook his head. “What is this, Dad?”

  “I don’t know. Some kind of stalker, maybe. Maybe it started as a prank and escalated out of control. I honestly don’t know.”

  “It’s serious, though, right?”

  “Yes,” Carl answered immediately. “Personally, I would make sure Payten isn’t left by herself for any extended period of time. We’re working on something, but — If I were you, I’d stay with her, Dean.”

  He nodded and moved to leave the office. He paused in the doorway. “Dad?”

  “Yes?”

  “You’re sure this can’t be — ”

  “It’s not. Don’t make this worse on yourself,” Carl warned. “He’s in prison. It’s not him. Move on.”

  • • •

  On the short walk back to the diner, Dean thought about what to tell Payten. He knew she would be disappointed about not being able to stay in her house, and he thought convincing her to stay with him might be a challenge.

  He opened the door of the diner and stepped in as the bell on the door rang. Smiling at Payten when she looked up, he pointed toward the back. She smiled and nodded in return. On his way toward the kitchen, several customers stopped him, wanting to talk. He spent a few minutes with each of them, dodging the topic of what had happened at Payten’s house before moving on.

  When he reached the kitchen, Teddy stood at the grill where he’d been when Dean left earlier. Sarah stood at the sink doing dishes. She hadn’t been there when he left.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Dean,” Sarah answered. “You talk to your dad?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

  “Payten told us what happened before Teddy walked her over this morning,” Sarah said. “We really don’t want Payten staying by herself after what happened. Would you mind staying with her?”

  “Jeez, Mom,” Payten exclaimed. “Could you make me sound any more desperate?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were standing there.”

  Payten had walked up while Sarah talked. Dean knew the instant Payten showed up because she had pressed herself up against his back. She’d peeked her head around his side to talk to Sarah. It pressed her body even tighter against his.

  “Let’s go outside,” Payten said, poking his back. “You can tell me what your dad said.”

  “You two can head on home if you want,” Teddy told them. “We’ve got it here, and you’ve both had a long night.”

  “But it’s Sunday,” Dean protested.

  “So?” Teddy asked.

  “You two don’t work Sundays,” Dean said.

  “I think just this one won’t kill us,” Sarah teased.

  “Outside,” Payten ordered. “Quick, before they change their minds.”

  Dean moved past Teddy and around Sarah toward the door. Payten hugged her father and kissed her mother’s cheek as she followed. At the door, she took off her apron and put it up. She grabbed her coat, motioning Dean out the door.

  “Bye,” Dean said.

  “Bye, Dean,” Sarah said.

  “Hurry much?” Dean asked as Payten pulled the door closed behind her.

  “Yes,” she replied. “If one more person asks me why I’m not dead, I may drop a plate in their lap.”

  He laughed.

  “I’m serious,” she said. “What a yucky day.”

  “Yucky?”

  She frowned at him. “It was.”

  “I don’t think you can say day, either. It’s not even noon.”

  She frowned and glanced at her watch. “Bleck,” she groaned when she saw he was right.

  “Well, to add to it, Dad won’t give you back your house.” He steered her toward his truck. “On a brighter side, you can stay with me.”

  “Oh. Umm…”

  “Dad wants you to stay with someone until they can figure out what to do,” he told her. “My house is as good as any.”

  “I could stay with my parents.”

  He nodded. “You could, but it might put them in danger.”

  They came to a stop next to the truck.

  “Wouldn’t staying with you put you in danger too?” she asked.

  Hadn’t thought of that one. He’d figured he could convince her to stay with him by convincing her it was dangerous for her parents. He hadn’t considered she’d be worried about him.

  “It might, but I’m a lot meaner than your parents.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure your fierce attitude will scare Mr. Stalker away.”

  “Maybe we’ll just let him wake you up,” he teased. “That’ll terrify him.”

  “Hey!”

  He laughed as he opened her door. “Hop in.”

  She did, but she grumbled. “I’m not sure I like you.”

  “I’m fine with that. We’ll stop at your parents’ so you can get your stuff before we head out of town.”

  “I need to go to my place,” she told him.

  “You can’t. Dad is going to try to get a forensic team from the city to come out and take a look at your place. He says it’s a long shot, but maybe he cut himself or left fingerprints or something.”

  “That’s just great,” she muttered.

  “Do you have some more clothes at your parents’ house?”

  “Yeah, but I wanted my purse. It’s at my house.”

  “I’ll call Dad later and see if there’s any way to make that happen,” he offered. “Don’t get your hopes up, though.”

  “I’m still having trouble processing that someone was actually in my house. That really freaks me out,” she said. “This really isn’t just a prank, is it?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Someone is after me, which is freaky enough, but I don’t even know why,” she said. “If I could figure out why, maybe I could figure out who it is. I’ve got no idea, though.”

  • • •

  Carl Whitley sat at his desk with his telephone against his ear when Bridgett opened the door and peeked in. He spotted
her and waved her in. She moved quietly into his office, closing the door behind her. Sitting down in the chair across from his desk, she waited patiently for him to finish his call.

  “Thank you for this, Marcus. I appreciate it.” He paused. “I can do that. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He hung up the phone and sighed. “That man is crazy.”

  “Who was it?” Bridgett asked.

  “Marcus is the head of the forensic team from Springfield. We met before Dean was born. He’s agreed to come out tomorrow.”

  “Good news?”

  “Great news. Usually they don’t come at all. If they do, it takes weeks to get results back. It only cost me two bottles of bourbon to convince him.”

  Bridgett laughed. “Just two?”

  “It’s good bourbon. Besides, it’s probably been a slow month for them. What can I do for you, Ms. Denver?”

  “Not call me that,” she replied.

  He chuckled. “What else do you need?”

  “I was wondering when Payten was going to get her place back.”

  “I don’t know yet. Why?” he asked.

  “Could you call me as soon as they’re done? I want to clean it up for her. She shouldn’t have to.”

  “I think they have a team that cleans up the… Well, the mess,” he told her.

  “Oh. That’s a relief,” she said. “Still, the girls and I would like to paint and redress her room. We don’t want to leave any reminders.”

  He leaned back in his chair and studied her. “That’s nice of you girls.”

  “We’re friends.” She shrugged. “It’s what we do.”

  “Dean wanted me to call him first.”

  “That’s nice, but Dean probably wants to change the locks and install motion lights. He’s a guy. He doesn’t think the way we do.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll call you when the forensic team is done, but I’m calling Dean right after that,” he told her. “You’ll have to argue with him about who’s doing what. How does that sound?”

  “Great.” She stood and headed for the door. “Thank you.”

  “Not a problem.”

  When the door closed behind her, he leaned farther back in his chair and stretched. He propped his feet on the corner of his desk and folded his hands behind his head. Staring at the ceiling, he decided he was getting old.

  He had been up since early morning the day before. After spending the early hours of the morning dealing with the mess at Payten’s house and listening to his officers debate the merits of calling for a forensic team, he hadn’t been able to sleep. He’d headed for the police station instead. He’d been filling out reports until Dean showed up.

  He didn’t understand his son. That was probably his own fault. He should have paid more attention to him after his mother’s death. By the time he’d been able to push the pain of Liv’s death away enough to cope, Dean didn’t look to him for answers. He didn’t look to him for anything.

  Carl had gone to therapy with Dean thinking it would help. The therapy hadn’t helped either of them. He had stopped going when Dean asked him. He also stopped taking Dean when he didn’t want to go anymore. Maybe that had been the wrong decision.

  He knew his son had nightmares. He knew his son was having nightmares when he moved out at eighteen. He didn’t tell Dean. He allowed him his privacy, but he knew. He didn’t know if Dean still had the nightmares, but he recognized the bone-tired look he’d had on his face earlier that afternoon.

  Carl was saddened by the thought of what his life had become. The love of his life was gone. Long gone. His son — his only child — was a stranger. The job he’d always loved was becoming too much for him.

  “Chief?”

  The voice startled him. His eyes slammed open, and his head whipped toward the door. Seeing Burke in the doorway, he dropped his feet to the floor and waved him into the office.

  “What do you need?”

  Burke closed the door behind him. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t think there’s much left to do around here today.”

  “No, sir. I meant, do you need anything? To talk or something?”

  He stared at the young man standing in his doorway. Burke Pierce was like a son to him. He was closer to Burke than he was to his own son. How pathetic was that?

  “I think I just need to get some sleep.”

  Burke nodded. “Yes, sir. We have things under control here. Why don’t you head on home, sir?”

  “I think I’ll do that.” He stood and stretched. “Pierce, did you take Ms. Denver’s statement?”

  He shook his head. “Smith did. She was a wonder to watch, sir.”

  Carl nodded. “I figured she would be. Did Smith ask her about locking Payten’s door on her way out?”

  Burke shrugged. “I wasn’t around for the whole interview.”

  Carl nodded. He grabbed his coat from the hook behind his desk and moved toward the door. He followed Burke out of the office, pulling the door closed behind him. He would have a quick word with Smith and then head home. He moved the short distance to her desk.

  “Hello, Officer Smith.”

  She looked up from the paperwork in front of her. “Chief.”

  “Pierce said you took Ms. Denver’s statement.”

  She nodded. “I did.”

  “Did you ask her about locking up Payten’s before she left?”

  “I did. Bridgett couldn’t remember locking it, but her fiancé, Michael, insisted he locked it on his way out.”

  Carl nodded. “All right. How did the guy get in, then?”

  “I was thinking that myself. I plan on heading back to the house to double check for forced entry. Barring that, he must have had access to a key.”

  Carl nodded. “Good work, Smith. Take someone with you when you go to the house. I think Rykers has the keys.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m going home. Call me if you find anything.”

  “Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir.”

  Carl chuckled. “It’s not even noon.”

  She flashed a grin. “Oops.”

  • • •

  Dylan Smith was supposed to meet Officer Rykers at Payten’s house at one. She had been late on purpose. She hadn’t liked Rykers from the moment she met him. His gorgeous green eyes and sandy blond hair hadn’t changed her mind.

  She didn’t like Rykers because he was a military man. The damn man had probably been born and bred for the military. She could just tell.

  Dylan’s ex-husband had been a military man. Her ex-husband was a bastard.

  As Dylan paced in front of Payten’s house, she told herself her dislike of Rykers was justified. After all, she’d been twenty minutes late, and she waited at the house for another ten. She checked her phone. No missed calls. She glanced down at the radio on her hip. It was turned on.

  Deciding half an hour late was ridiculous, she moved toward the porch. On the porch, she noticed the front door wasn’t quite closed. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and set it on silent. Quickly, she texted her sister. She shoved her phone back into her pocket.

  After turning her radio to the lowest volume setting, she pulled her gun from its holster at her shoulder. Turning the gun’s safety off, she slowly eased the front door open. In her head, she went through the layout of the house as she remembered it from her first visit. She made her way through the house, searching each room for whoever had left the door open.

  When she reached the back of the house, she had the two bedrooms left to clear. She needed a partner to safely clear both, but she was too impatient to wait. Assuming whoever was there would be in Payten’s room, she went there first. A quick glance around the room told her the room remained in the same condition as the night before. Moving quickly, she glanced under the bed. Finding nothing under it, she opened the closet. Empty.

  She moved into the attached bathroom. Also empty. She turned around to step out of the bathroom. Movement in her peripheral visi
on had her raising her gun higher as she finished her turn.

  Rykers smirked at her and raised his hands in surrender. “Caught me.”

  “Dammit, Rykers.”

  “What did you do? Pick the lock? You couldn’t wait ten minutes?”

  She stiffened. “The door was open when I got here.”

  He pulled his gun from its holster at his hip. “Cleared?” he mouthed.

  She silently pointed toward the room across the hall. They moved quietly out of the room and across the hall. Rykers eased the partially closed door open with his foot. The room was empty. A quick glance into the closet showed the only thing in it was more clothes.

  “Why would he come back?” Dylan wondered aloud, holstering her gun.

  He shrugged while doing the same. “The other room looked the same to me.”

  “Me, too.” She glanced around the room. “Was the computer on last night?”

  The computer’s screensaver was black, but it had some sort of deer-looking things moving across the screen. She looked at it closer and recognized it. The deer were actually antelope made out of Slim Jims. She recognized it as Burke’s screensaver from his computer at the station.

  “I don’t think so,” he answered. “Know anything about computers?”

  She shook her head. “Not a thing.”

  “Me neither. I’ll call Pierce.”

  “Devin can do it,” she objected.

  “You mean Chase?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Her first name is Devin.”

  “Right. Call her.”

  She pulled her phone out. She ignored the text message on the screen and called her sister.

  “Dylan Wellington, tell me you did not really go in without backup.”

  She smirked. “I did not really go in without backup.”

  “We’ve talked about this. You cannot go all cowboy on me. If you get killed, so help me God, I’ll bring you back and kill you again.”

  “You forgot Smith. My name is Smith.”

  “Yeah, and mine’s Chase,” she snorted.

  “It is until you file that paperwork. Get your uniform on. I need your computer skills over here.”

  “Is someone else there?” her sister asked.

  “Rykers is here.”

  “Oh, lord,” Devin muttered. “Please try to be nice.”

  “Sure. I’ll slap on my happy face.”