Glass glinted on the floor amid overturned cabinets, scattered papers and busted bags of dog food. A cat streaked through the open portal and between porch spindles.
Someone had broken into the clinic.
Chapter 7
Bo's focus narrowed to the havoc smashed and strewn through the clinic, his muscles tensing, ready to spring into action. Survival instincts shifted into high gear, shutting down all thoughts except securing the area and protecting Paige. They were out in the middle of nowhere, no neighbors close enough to provide a safe haven for her, and no way of knowing if inside or outside would be better.
Reaching into his leather jacket, he pulled free his cell phone and passed it back to her.
"Here," he whispered low, quick. "Call 911."
He listened, ear tuned for any noise from an intruder still lurking. Nothing. Silence echoed from inside, leaving outdoor sounds all the louder. Paige's panting gasps of air.
The thud of his own heart. A cat purring as it twined around his ankles in a figure eight while Paige whispered into the phone.
Leaning, he grabbed a wrist-thick log off the top of the small woodpile near the wood stove. He'd rather have his 9mm, but something was better than nothing. Scooting the tabby aside gently with his tennis shoe, Bo reached to affirm Paige was still following.
"Stay behind me, but stay close, keep a watch out behind us."
Her body heat and low breaths warmed his back, reassuring him that for now she was fine. Deeper into the clinic, he sidestepped file folders splayed across the floor. Dog chow and shards of glass crunched under his slow treads.
Still no one. He scanned the interior. Exam room doors gaped open, seemingly undisturbed.
A light shone from the back office. He gestured for Paige to tuck behind the reception desk while he crept closer to find... An empty room.
Papers littered the floor, a window gaping open. Bo charged across, tossing down the log and hefting himself up on the high sill to look out. Dusty footsteps marked the ground, ending when tire tracks started, their culprit obviously long gone. Someone had likely heard the plane return and beat a hasty retreat. At least the cops could take molds of the tracks and shoe prints for clues.
Relief that Paige was safe mixed with frustration because he couldn't confront the enemy.
Adrenaline pumping overtime, he dropped back flatfooted into the office.
"We're clear," he called, needing to see her, now, and reassure himself she was okay.
"Did you get through to the cops?"
"They're on their way." Her voice preceded her into the office. Phone clutched to her chest, she sagged against the door. "Uncle."
"What?" Was she losing it? Concern carried his feet a couple of steps closer in spite of his brain shouting for him to stay back when they were both overrevved, raw.
Hungry.
"I give." She swept a hand over the mess. "I'm crying uncle. I've had enough excitement for one lifetime, thanks. Where can I go to order one of those nice, regular boring lives where I get to bring up my child in peace?" Her shaky laugh and crooked glasses damn near broke his heart.
Screw wise decisions. He strode over a toppled potted cactus to hook an arm around her shoulder and draw her in close, for himself as much as to comfort her. She melted against him, no tears, but so soft and sweet smelling his arms held tighter. He breathed in the aloe scent of her the way he soaked in a song to soothe his soul until his world steadied.
Finally, his adrenaline-pumped instincts took a breather and let his brain kick back into high gear—with a vengeance. What if he'd let her walk in here alone? He'd tried to send her to the house while he'd been tying down the plane and working even harder to harness his libido. Who the hell knew when the break-in occurred? He assumed the vandals had left when the plane approached, but they could have slipped through the back while he and Paige had been making out. A herd of cattle could have thundered by and he never would have noticed.
He had to get hold of himself around this woman and quit sniffing her hair like some horny adolescent. But first, maybe he would hold her a while longer.
Sirens whined low in the distance.
"Bo?"
"Yeah?"
"Look."
He turned to follow her pointed finger to the clinic's medicine cabinet—bashed and open.