33. Reylor

Chapter 33

Reylor

T he moment Hannah whispered through the phone that she thought someone was upstairs, I slammed out of the office, leaving a potential client in Tuvid’s capable hands.

I didn’t bother to strip but shifted as I raced across the back and somewhat empty parking lot. In dragon form, I burst into flight, snapping out my wings and angling them to pick up the wind as I turned to fly toward Hannah’s B&B. In no time, I landed in the backyard and shifted, jogging to the shed where I’d told Hannah to hide. I didn’t want her inside when I went through the building.

I found her standing with wide eyes in the middle of the shed, Max in her arms. His tail whipped back and forth, and he looked like he was going to bite her arm if she didn’t put him down. Seeing me, his tail stilled, and he started purring.

I scratched his chin and tugged Hannah into my arms, holding them both, grateful she appeared unharmed. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I did as you said. I grabbed Max in the kitchen and came out here.”

We went outside.

“I swear someone’s in the attic.” She pointed toward the solitary window on the fourth floor. “Before I hid in the shed, I saw someone moving around, passing the window.”

My skin prickled with fear. At least they hadn’t appeared to see her and come after her.

“Wait here.” I raced toward the back of the building.

“I’m with you.” Hannah shut Max inside the shed and jogged after me. The cat immediately started scratching, but thankfully, he wasn’t howling yet.

I paused on the back deck, and turned to hold her upper arms, staring down at her. “Something weird is going on. We keep arresting people who confess to sabotaging your business, and then something like this happens. I’m worried about you coming inside with me until I’ve checked it out.”

“Maybe it’s Justin? Before I heard footsteps overhead, the hallway suddenly got chilly, and I could smell pipe smoke. Justin adored his pipe. One of the ladies at the historical society told me that he kept it lit at all times, though mostly for the scent.”

“I doubt ghosts can make sounds or create an image you’d see in a window. Don’t they float?”

She shrugged. “I’m new to ghosts, so who knows?”

Good point. “I’d rather you waited with Max in the shed or inside your car if you prefer.”

“And I’d rather go with you. If someone’s inside my building, I want to know how they got in and what they’re doing.” Her chin lifted. “This is my business. Yes, I hired you to help solve the crime, and you appear to have done that already, but like you said, something weird is going on, and I need to get to the bottom of it.”

She was right. This was her building, her business. “Okay. Stay behind me.”

As a dragon shifter, I could protect her even if I had to thrust my body between hers and the threat. I’d happily take on whatever might be coming.

“I will,” she whispered and crept across the open deck and stepped inside the kitchen, where we stopped, listening but hearing nothing.

Leaving the kitchen, we moved along the hallway and took the stairs all the way to the fourth floor, where we found the attic door unlocked and standing open. Whoever had entered must not be worried about anyone hearing them, because they kept banging things around and muttering, though from here, I couldn’t tell who it might be.

I extended my claws and started up the stairs, taking them slowly to avoid making them creak. Hannah remained behind, her hand on my spine. I should’ve grabbed her sofa throw—again—but damn it, I needed to know who the latest saboteur was, assuming this wasn’t something else.

We reached the top of the stairs and poked our heads up through the opening.

Sylvia Carr dumped a box of items onto the floor and dropped to her knees to sort through the rubble. The rest of the attic had been trashed, boxes opened and spilled onto the cupped wooden floorboards. She’d yanked out bureau drawers and sliced into throw pillows, scattering the white fluffy filling around. Not realizing we were watching, she continued scrambling through the items she’d just tossed onto the floor.

“Where is it?” she kept muttering. “Where is it?”

Hannah moved around me and stepped onto the main floor of the attic. She picked her way across the disarray and stopped at Sylvia’s side.

I followed, looking for a weapon, but not seeing anything in Sylvia’s hand.

“What are you doing?” Hannah asked.

Sylvia looked up, her gaze traveling from Hannah to me before narrowing. I grabbed an empty pillowcase and covered myself with it, and Sylvia’s eyes flicked back to Hannah. “Where is it? I know he still had it. It’s got to be here somewhere.”