Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(106)

MY SENSES WERE tingling even before my headlights hit her car and confirmed my suspicions. Part of me expected to see fans camped out in front of my house, but the harsh winter weather and mounds of snow were quite an effective deterrent. Pain lanced right into my gut when I saw Erin’s car sitting lopsided, and as I got closer, my temper skyrocketed.

I knew it. I f*cking knew it. I should have locked her car in my garage before we left, but like a dumbass, I didn’t. Son of a…

“What?” Erin asked.

I pulled into the driveway and hit the button to open the garage door, hoping to park before she noticed the damage.

I shut off the ignition and held out my hand. “Let me have your keys.”

She dug in her purse. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Erin followed me out into the driveway. “Adam?”

The cold wind blew a gust of snow crystals over us but the frigid weather only seemed to ramp up my fury.

“Shit,” she whispered. I avoided looking at her pained face as the damage registered.

Shit was putting it mildly. Red was blistering my vision seeing that both tires on the driver side had been flattened. A quick check on the other side had me releasing the breath I was holding; the two on the passenger side were still inflated.

I halted Erin as she tried to follow me. “Stay back. This is a f*cking crime scene.”

She stopped dead in her tracks and gasped. The wind rustled the bare branches in the large elm that bordered my driveway, stirring more of my senses. It was still light and sunny outside; the suspect could still be in the vicinity.

I took her by the waist and backed her into the safety of my garage, tucking her in front of my truck onto the padded stool at my workbench. “It’s cold and you’re shivering. Stay here.”

“I’m okay.”

I leveled my gaze on hers. “I’m not.” I sat her down and got the flashlight out of my truck.

Erin nodded woodenly; the shock was doing its number on her. “I have to work tonight.”

I shut my passenger door and eyed her over the hood. “I know.”

She started to stand, not fully understanding the severity of the situation.

“I’ll drive you myself if it comes down to it, but right now I need you to stay put.” She got my meaning, sliding her rump back onto the stool without argument.

Aggravation was burning deep in my gut as I did a careful walk-around, scanning the paint on her car, looking for damage or signs of forced entry. The drive was clear of visible footprints; only a bit of wet slush remained, leaving no clue as to who may have done this.

My neighborhood was quiet, insulated within layers and piles of powdery white snow. The street was typical for an after-storm dig out; small rivulets of water were interspersed within random ridges of ice and snow created by dozens of tire tracks. As I looked around for any shred of evidence, I tried to calm myself enough to form a game plan without putting my fists through something. I crouched back down next to Erin’s car; each of her tires had one very distinct straight slice in the sidewall.

I couldn’t suppress my growl. A guy wouldn’t do this kind of damage unless he was tied to Erin somehow. Still, a jealous ex wouldn’t strand her under the care of another man if he were trying to make a point. The tires on her ride were expensive.

I glanced around the neighborhood again. Rick’s green pick-up was dirty, but sitting on four full tires in front of his house across the street. Jeanne’s dark blue Passat was untouched in their driveway. On the other side of the small bushes separating our yards, Vic’s brand new red Camaro, his gift to himself when he retired last September, had a stack of snow on its roof. There were no footprints in the snow in my yard, either. House, windows, everything appeared untouched.

My eyes scanned back to Erin’s car. No, this was personal.

Someone trying to send me a message would have been more creative. Even roaming punks would have jacked her car up and stole them before wasting the effort of stabbing them for the fun of it. Most of the kids in the neighborhood knew I was a cop, which seemed to deter them from getting into trouble around here.

Slashes were vertical and close to the top. This had anger and female scorn written all over it.

“I have to call this in.”

Erin nodded. “Will I be able to get them fixed?”

I wanted to squeeze the f*ck out of my cell as I dialed dispatch. “No. We have to buy new ones.”

“It’s Sunday,” her voice broke. “I can’t let my father know about this. If I have it towed back to his dealership he’ll never let me hear the end of it. He needs to stay focused on getting my mom through the funerals. Maybe I can call Rudy to come with the flatbed.”

My molars were starting to hurt. I didn’t know who the f*ck Rudy was, but Hell would have to completely freeze over before I let some other guy take care of this. “Yeah, this is Detective Adam Trent, I need a unit dispatched to my residence.”

I could see the stress taking its toll on Erin as I moved my motorcycle into the corner. “Once we file a report, I’m going to pull your car in here and then I’ll take the tires off. I want it garaged while we’re gone.”

Nikki had definitely crossed the f*cking line with this one.

Erin watched me work, and I was thankful she wasn’t asking questions or bitching out loud like most women would do, even though she had every right to pitch a fit. I risked a glance at her. “Why don’t you go inside? Go get warm.”