Warrior (First to Fight #1)(25)
This time, Cole is startled from sleep by the sirens. As hurried footsteps recede back down the stairs, he begins to wail. The sound is a welcome one as it signifies that we’re both still alive. I’m lightheaded with sweet relief.
A few minutes later, a knock sounds at the front door. I manage to soothe Cole back to sleep with a pacifier and set him in the bassinet on my way down the stairs, taking care not to step on the splinters of wood from my mangled door.
I find Hank scratching at the mudroom door, thankfully unharmed. He’d been locked in our fenced backyard and immediately started barking at the pounding at the door. I grab a long coat from the coat stand and shrug into it. It does little to cover my legs, but the small, filmy nightgown wasn’t something I’d like to greet the police in. I feel bare and vulnerable enough as it is.
I pull open the door and stare in open-mouthed shock when I’m greeted by Logan on the other side. “What are you doing here?” I blurt.
He peers past me into the room. “Is the intruder still in the house?”
“No, they left through the back as soon as they heard the sirens. They busted open my bedroom door, though. It’s upstairs.”
“I’d like to take a look, if that’s okay.”
“Sure, whatever you need.” I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night. “Thank God you got here in time. Can I get you something? Water? Coffee?” I know I’m rambling, but I can’t seem to stop.
He jerks his chin, which I take to mean yes. “I’ll just be a few minutes. My partner is checking the perimeter for any signs of forced entry, but we didn’t see anyone lurking. They’re probably gone by now.”
“Thanks, Logan.”
The simple process of making coffee distracts me from my scattered thoughts. Measure grounds. Fill the water dispenser. Flip the switch. Grab a few coffee mugs. I stare out the kitchen window and see nothing, but that doesn’t erase the unease that skitters along my shoulders.
Steps thud above me as Logan makes his way back down the stairs. He appears in the kitchen doorway as he buckles his radio back onto his belt. I hand him a cup of coffee, pleased that I judged him for a no-frills man when he makes a sound of pleasure at the first taste.
He steps inside the kitchen and leans against the butcher block island. “Few questions for you, Livvie, then I’ll get out of your hair.”
I sip my coffee. “It’s no trouble. Please.”
“Tell me what happened tonight, up until I got here.”
Deep breath. “We got back from errands around seven o’clock. I always keep the doors locked, and windows, too. Habit. My father used to insist on it. We got to bed around nine. We hadn’t been there long when I realized our dog, Hank, hadn’t made it upstairs. He’s old, so sometimes I have to help him up. I was going to get him when I noticed all the lights downstairs were off, and I always leave at least one on. I’m prone to clumsiness. Then I heard a noise downstairs. The sound of the shutter opening. I called 9-1-1,” I continue on, telling him the rest of what happened until they arrived and scared off my unwelcome visitor.
“It looks like they forced one of the windows open, tore the screen off and broke off a section, then unlocked it. You’ll need to get that repaired as soon as you can. We’re going to turn in the report, dust for prints near the window and on the bedroom door handle. We’ll run it through the system, but that can take some time and if they aren’t in the system, we won’t have much to go on.”
“I understand.” It scared the shit out of me, but I knew there was only so much they could do. Never mind the new paint the outside of the house needed. A new security system was going up first thing. It had been on my home improvement to-do list before Cole was born, but I had always felt safe in our neighborhood.
“We can have a patrol car come around every couple hours, just to make sure,” Logan says. “Do you want me to call Jack to come stay with you?”
My shoulders round and I huddle around my coffee cup. The last thing I need is for Jack to become even more overprotective. “That’s okay. I appreciate it, but we’ll be fine. I probably won’t be getting any sleep tonight anyway, and all he’ll want to do is nag. You’ll let me know if you find anything?”
“You’ll be the first person I call.” He puts his finished cup in the sink then turns to me, placing a hand on my cheek. I lean in to it, grateful for the moment of support. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”
I nod, but in truth, I feel far from okay. I’ve just learned how to deal with it on my own.
A knock at the door sends Hank into another wheezing fit. I excuse myself to answer it while Logan rinses the dishes in the sink—a decidedly homey task considering the horror of the night. My heart returns to a relatively normal rhythm and I take a deep, calming breath before opening the door, hoping it’s Logan’s partner and not Jack, who always seems to know when something has gone wrong.
I’m looking down to grab a hold of Hank, who’s winding excitedly around my legs. Once I have him secure in my arms, I notice that my visitor isn’t wearing the usual police-issue black shoes, like Logan is. They’re black, but they’re a very specific type of combat boot that I’ve only seen grace one pair of legs before. I glance up, and instead of finding that other officer, what I’m met with is a pair of familiar crystal-blue eyes instead.