In response, he reached out and wiped a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. “Think nothing of it. It's completely normal to be upset.”
Incredibly embarrassed, she ignored his statement and said, “Seriously. I'm so sorry.”
“Stop,” Mike commanded. “You clearly needed a hug. I got to hold a beautiful woman. Everyone wins. Now show me the letter.”
Cassidy stood up and headed toward the kitchen, not allowing herself to think too long about his comment. Mike found her beautiful? Right now she looked like a red, snotty mess. She was certain of it.
She passed him the letter and watched him frown as he read it. “I've got a couple of ideas,” he said.
“Okay. Would you mind if I hopped in the shower before we talked about that. I wanna clean up. I'm a mess right now,” she said, gesturing to her face.
Mike watched her for a moment and then said, “Take your time. I'm going to check the doors and windows. I doubt I'll find anything, but better to be safe than sorry. Which is your room?”
Confused, she pointed.
He explained. “I'll check that one when you're done. Just come and find me.”
“Okay,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
He waved her off and said, “Don't mention it.”
She tried to put his words out of her mind, but if questioned, she'd have to admit it prompted her to put on a little powder and lip gloss after her shower. Then she had combed her hair until it fell in damp, crinkly waves.
When Cassidy eventually emerged from the bedroom, she found the living room empty. She went in search of Mike and eventually found him outside. He was squatted on her back patio, near the back door. He grumbled, “Your locks suck, Cassidy. I recommend changing them immediately. I don't see signs of forced entry, but I could break into your house with a pocket knife as it is.”
“A pocket knife?” she asked, shocked.
“Yeah, watch,” he said, gesturing at the doorknob. With three jiggles of his pocket knife under the edge of the handle it popped free in his hand.
“Holy shit,” she said, blanching. “I need to call a locksmith.”
“Don't do that,” he cautioned. “They'll just charge you four hundred bucks to replace your doorknobs. Let me go pick them up and I'll install them.”
“You really don't have to do that,” she whispered. “I can have someone—”
“I just broke your doorknob,” he said, interrupting her. “I can go and get the parts and have it installed in less than an hour. I've got a friend checking on the cell phone. If we can track it, then we may be able to figure out where Roddy is. The other option is to pay the ransom if you're able and then track them back to where they're keeping the dog. There's a chance you might lose the ransom, so that's last resort. I don't know what else to do. We've got no leads and a tight deadline.”
She nodded and said, “It's money I won from showing Roddy, anyway. If I lose the ransom, I lose the ransom. I just want my boy back.”
“I know you do,” he said, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. “I'm gonna run to the hardware store and get you some new locks. I'll be back in a little while. Call me if anything comes up.”
When he left, she locked the front door after him. Not that it would help anything. He'd popped her doorknob off the outside of her back door with a freaking pocket knife. Talk about unsafe! Maybe she'd ask him to take a look at the windows too. She hated to be a bother, though.
As promised, he was back within about twenty minutes with a somber look on his face. “My friend had no luck tracing the cell. It was a burner phone.” At her vaguely confused face, he explained. “A throw away. Disposable. He said he'd give me a call if it turned on.”
“I'll call my bank and find what I need to do to make a large withdrawal while you fix the knobs. Thank you for that, by the way.”
“You're welcome,” he said, giving her that panty-melting grin of his again.
“Let me know what I owe you for that.”
r /> He waved her off with a frown and moved toward the back door.
It was surprisingly easy, she discovered, to randomly take out thirty thousand dollars from her bank. She needed to present two forms of ID and it would be done in ten minutes. She found Mike as he was installing the handle on her front door. While he worked, she explained the process to him.
They both agreed that while it wasn't the first thing they wanted to do, she should probably withdraw the money just in case the cell phone never popped on for long enough to track it.
Once the doorknobs were installed, he gave her the new keys and said, “These are better. You can't pop them off with a pocket knife. The others were loose.”