Half Empty (First Wives, #2)(50)

“No, you heard Trina, they were both concerned about the contents of the house and had been setting the alarm, even when they were home at night.”

Reed reached into his jacket and came out with a handgun.

“Whoa . . . I thought you said you were a retired cop.”

He put a finger to his lips and shut Wade up. “Stay close,” he said in a whisper.

Holy shit. This was far outside of his spectrum. Wade had shot a gun or two in his time, but mainly shotguns on his property. Handguns were home to men like Jeb, not Wade.

Wade followed Reed through the house and kept an eye behind them as they moved room by room. They swept the house and came up empty. Once Reed holstered his gun, Wade took a deep breath.

“Maybe Avery was in a hurry,” Wade suggested.

Reed didn’t look convinced.

Wade looked on the counter in the kitchen, where Trina said he’d find the spreadsheet.

It wasn’t there.

Reed opened drawers until he found the one that held all the crap a junk drawer housed but that didn’t belong in a kitchen. He shuffled through the pens and papers before slamming it shut.

“Should we call Trina?” Wade asked.

“No, Avery might have moved it. Let’s keep searching.”

They did, and nothing.

“Didn’t Trina say something about a back office?”

Reed looked around and started toward the back door of the house. He switched on a light, and they both walked in the late night air to what looked like a smaller version of the house on the other side of the yard.

Reed stopped Wade midstride with a hand to his chest.

The door to the office was open an inch.

Reed crouched down, and Wade followed his behavior. With a lift of his hand, Reed told him to stay back.

Reed took a deep breath, paused, and kicked open the door before hiding back behind the exterior of the office.

Silence.

He started low and swung back into the room.

Nothing.

He turned on a light and Wade risked a look.

“Oh, shit.”

Wade stood there and stared while Reed moved through the room, careful not to touch anything. He kicked open a door, ducked in, came back out. Then he put his gun away.

Everything was completely askew. From the desk to the chairs, the lamps. Papers were everywhere, pictures were off the walls and lying on the floor.

“Don’t touch anything,” Reed said as he reached for his cell phone.

Wade had seen this in a movie but never in real life. To say he was spooked was an understatement.

“Hey, Neil. Yeah, I know what time it is. Someone ransacked Fedor’s office. No, I called you first . . . because nothing in the house was touched, just the office.” Reed walked over to a crooked painting on the wall, and using his jacket instead of his fingertips, he moved it aside. There was a safe behind the picture. Reed tapped on it with the same covered finger. “No. It appears they were looking for something. We’ll have to wait for Trina to get here to see if anything is missing. But the safe hasn’t been opened. Check with the guys and find out if the alarm was ever set this morning, and if it was, when it was disengaged. Got it. Yeah, I’ll call it in now.”

Reed stepped around the mess and back out the door.

“This isn’t good.”

Reed dialed 911 on his phone. “The one thing I doubt even more than random acts of violence, it’s any kind of coincidence.” He turned away to talk to the operator while Wade stared at the quiet of the turbulent night.



Trina hated to leave the hospital, but Avery’s parents had arrived, so at least she knew there was someone there every time she opened her eyes.

Jeb was a machine. The man hadn’t slept at all, and he was the one driving them to the Hamptons house in the early morning light.

When Reed had called to say the office was vandalized, Trina knew, in her heart, that somehow the dots connected to Avery. As the night had worn on, it seemed Avery was a little more aware of where she was and had grasped why she was in the hospital. But there was still no memory of what had happened.

Trina closed her eyes for only a minute when they pulled out of the hospital parking lot, and the next thing she knew someone was waking her up.

Startled, she assessed where she was.

Jeb had pulled into the driveway, along with what appeared to be half of the Suffolk County police force.

“We’re here,” Lori said from the back seat.

“This is my house,” Trina told the uniformed policeman who attempted to stop them at the door. “Bodyguard.” She pointed toward Jeb. “Attorney.” She moved her thumb in Lori’s direction.

The officer stepped aside.

Wade and Reed were in the kitchen, along with two plainclothes police officers. Both of them wore badges attached to their belts.

Wade noticed her about the same time that Reed noticed Lori. They both stood and met them halfway.

“How is she?” Wade asked once Trina was in his arms.

“Tiny improvement. They said they were going to do another scan of her head this morning to make sure there weren’t any changes overnight.”

“Did you get any rest?” Reed asked Lori.

“In the car, you?”

He shook his head.

Trina turned to Jeb. “Jeb, there are plenty of guest rooms upstairs. Please make yourself comfortable. Get some sleep.”