“It’s Blake,” he says, a harsh edge in his voice. “He says somebody broke into The Nest.”
“What? Oh my God.” My heart stumbles. “Is Felicity okay?”
“Seems like it.” He glares fiercely at his phone. “Dunno. May or may not be connected to this mess, but—”
“We have to check it out! She’s my friend.”
“Right.” He shoves his phone in his pocket, turning his head, scanning over the horses tied to a post, then beyond, checking the perimeter. For a moment, I can see the soldier in him, in his alert posture, the sharp tension in the set of his jaw, the clarity of his gaze. “Let’s move. I’ll scope things out, see what I can find.”
“I’m going with you.”
Together we mount up fast, untangling the horses’ reins from the post and sending them jostling toward the trail.
As we pass the old church, I pause.
I can’t help lingering on those little graves, stone and wood standing the test of time.
1831-1869.
If those are dates, someone’s life…
Maybe I’ll find a name on those worn markers.
Maybe I’ll catch a slam dunk piece of historical interest like the psycho Rattlesnake’s final resting spot.
But there’s no time to check now.
Holt’s already moving.
Felicity might need me.
I only hope my crap hasn’t wound up on her doorstep.
With one last look at the church, I nudge Frost around to follow Holt.
* * *
Felicity’s had plenty of straight up rotten luck.
I still remember back when that mess was starting to heat up with the Galentron company that used to have a secret lab around here. She got in the thick of it with her cousin, Ember, and wound up with her life on the line.
She’s always kinda taken things in stride. Fel’s just got this way about her.
Sweet and kind and open, but she’s kinda sad, too. Like she’s seen too much and nothing surprises her anymore.
Probably no wonder, then, that I’m more freaked out than Felicity is when Holt and I pull into the parking lot of The Nest.
She’s standing outside talking to Sheriff Langley, her expression almost dead in the light of his police car. Her eyes are empty. Off somewhere, maybe, either far away or long ago.
I don’t know.
Something’s up with Felicity, but I learned a long time ago, ever since we got to be friends, that she doesn’t talk about herself all that much, and always finds a way to talk around the questions people ask.
But if I were her, I’d be fighting mad at what those assholes did to the café.
The whole front and side windows are smashed, floor to ceiling, so it’s like no walls left on two sides.
Glass everywhere, inside and out.
They ripped a couple booths out of the back wall, leaving the stucco exposed to show the wiring and underneath.
Chairs kicked over.
Glass display cases with the bakery stuff shattered.
Equipment crumpled in like it’d been hit with a big old sledgehammer—and we’re talking that expensive commercial stuff, too.
Metal all dented up like crunchy aluminum foil.
Like a sick joke, they left the glass door intact.
I’m gonna fucking kill them if she doesn’t.
I’m already steaming as I push out of the truck and beeline right for Felicity.
Blake’s here, too. I guess doing the whole fire chief’s job of inspecting the damage and making sure the building’s not an active danger, but I don’t pay a bit of attention to him—or Holt, who heads straight for his brother.
I just cannonball myself into Felicity, cutting her off mid-sentence and hugging her tight.
“Oof!” She doesn’t even tense up, though she does flail her arms a little awkwardly before settling them around me with a tired laugh. “Hi to you too, Libby. Sorry, Sheriff.”
“It’s all right, Feli—er, Miss Randall,” Langley says. “But, say, if you could finish describing the assailants? You said that you were cleaning when they broke in?”
I pry myself halfway off Fel but still lean against her side, listening while she nods and continues. “I was in the back when I heard a big crash. Just looked out in time to see what was happening before I locked myself in the storeroom.” Her brows knit, and she tucks a lock of her dark hair back. “They didn’t even try to get in. They totaled the place, emptied the register, and left.”
“It’s likely they didn’t realize you were there,” Langley says. “If the register was the target and not you, it was just a smash and grab. No time to go lookin’ around for anything else.”
My temper flashes hot, and I squeeze Felicity tighter. “They sure took their sweet time beating up the place! It’s a goddamn mess. That had to take like half an hour or so.”
“Fifteen minutes,” Fel whispers. “I was counting.”
“Did you get a look at any of them?” Langley asks.
Felicity nods. “Won’t help much, though. Just a quick glimpse. There were four of them, all men, all of them wearing black with ski masks. I think they had crowbars.”