15. Desi and Lucy

Riggs

This time, it was Riggs skidding to a halt in the gravel of his drive next to Nadia's green Range Rover.

And he felt two things as he knifed out of his truck, his eyes glued to her as she jumped from her SUV still in an obvious panic.

The first was a weight crush his chest.

The second was his head fixing to explode.

He rounded the hood of his truck with long strides but only got halfway across before she crashed into him.

She threw her arms around him and held tight.

He wrapped his around her but used one hand to stroke her hair while he murmured, "It's okay, honey. You're all right."

She tipped her head back, her face pale under her honey tan. "Aromacobana' s coffee is really good, and I treated myself to a salted caramel cookie, and it was delicious."

"Good to hear, though I know that already. Just not real sure why you're sharing it with me right now," he noted cautiously.

She pulled from his arms, fisted a hand and smacked it into her other palm before she shouted, "Because I like it here at the same time someone is fucking with me!"

He wasn't sure he'd ever heard her say any form of the word fuck.

Yeah, his head felt ready to explode.

"I was with Harry when you phoned," he told her. "He hit me up on the way here and told me they were en route to the cabin. He's gonna call when they know it's clear, and we'll head over there together."

"You were with the sheriff when I called?"

"I was giving him a heads up about someone fucking with you." Since he'd learned from the last time about keeping shit from her, he continued when he didn't want to. "And I was asking about the Whitaker brothers."

He was instantly glad he shared since her expression lost some of its fright and her eyes lit with interest.

"You talked to him about that?"

"Yup."

"What'd he say?"

"First, you wanna come inside and have a shot of tequila then tell me what you saw when you got to your place?" he offered.

"Sure, sans the tequila. It's barely eleven, Riggs."

"Right," he muttered, throwing an arm around her shoulders and guiding her inside.

He took her right to kitchen, sat her ass on the stool, rounded the counter and leaned into his forearms across from her.

"Want coffee or something else?" he offered.

"I'm good."

"Okay, then, tell me. Did you see someone?"

"No, I came in the front and saw the back door open. There was a slash in the screen door. I didn't leave the back door open, and I made sure the lock was hooked on the screen door when I left. Obviously, I can't do that on the front door."

It was good he got contractor rates on all sorts of shit, because not only was she going to get surveillance cameras on every side of her house and pointed toward where the stables used to be, she was getting security doors.

"And you locked the back door?"

She nodded. "I got home and headed that way, and I was feeling creeped out, Riggs. You know, like, it was weird, and I couldn't put my finger on it."

He felt his muscles get solid all over when he asked, "Again, did you see someone?"

"No. I've been thinking about it, and it was just a feeling. Like, I felt someone had been there who shouldn't have been. I didn't get very far before I saw that there was some damage around the doorframe. Like someone pried it open or kicked it in."

And they could do that because they slashed her screen and unhooked the lock so they could get to the door.

"That's when I ran to my car and came to your house," she finished.

"What was the inside like?"

"That's what's weird, because, except for the back door, everything seemed like it was as I left it."

Yeah.

That was weird.

"Did you notice anything taken?"

She shook her head. "That said, I didn't get a good look."

"Sure you don't want a shot of tequila?"

She nodded her head.

"Anyone do any shit to you last night? Scratching. That rock bullshit?"

"I didn't hear anything," she replied as his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He pulled it out and looked at it.

"Harry," he told her.

More nodding from Nadia as he took the call.

"Yo, Harry."

"We're here. It's clear. Called the team in to see if we can get prints or anything. But the place looks perfect, except someone fucked up the back door in a big way in order to get in."

"Yeah?" he prompted, without saying the words that would push Harry to give more because he didn't want to tweak Nadia…or tweak her further.

But Harry got him, and he gave more.

"Whoever wanted in, really wanted in, Riggs. And from what I'm seeing, they didn't know how much time they had, so they made a mess of it. But this doesn't jibe, since it doesn't look like they ransacked the place. The state of the doorframe and the house contradict each other. 'Fraid I'm gonna need you to ask Nadia to come back and look around so we know what we're dealing with."

"I'll talk to Nadia. It'll be me bringing her back."

"See you soon."

"Yeah."

They disconnected and Riggs said to Nadia, "They're there, and it's all clear, but they need you to come and have a look because they can't tell if anything's missing. You okay to do that, or do you want me to call Harry and tell him you need some time?"

She shook her head. "I'm okay to do it."

"While we're there, want you to pack a bag."

She was moving off her stool, but at what he said, she stopped.

"For what?" she asked.

"You're staying with Ledge and me tonight. Tomorrow, I'm gonna fix your door, put security storm doors in and install the cameras. Depending on the damage to the frame, all that might take me more than a day. So pack for two nights, it shouldn't take more than that."

"I can check into a hotel."

"Yeah. You can. And if that's the way you wanna go, it's your call. But I'd feel better, and if Ledge hears word of this, and just sayin', in a small town, word travels fast, so he'd feel better if we had eyes on you."

"That really isn't?—"

"I got a guest room, so it isn't like you'd be sleeping on the couch. It has its own bathroom. It's like a hotel, but the room service is shitty."

The corners of her lips did that wrinkle thing before she said, "I don't know. In all honesty, the macaroni salad was uninspired, but still yummy, and the brats were fantastic."

"What I meant to say was, I cooked last night, you're on that detail tonight. I'll deal with dessert." He got a full smile at that, and only when he did, did he say, "Let's go."

He did the arm around the shoulders gig again and took her right to the passenger side door of his truck.

Then, he was stunned it happened considering the mood he was in, but he had to fight laughing since she had so much trouble climbing up, he had to put his hands to her waist and practically lift her into her seat.

By the time he got in beside her, closed his door and was engaging the ignition, she joked, "I feel like I just climbed Mount Everest."

Vodka princesses clearly didn't ride around in fully-loaded, jacked up Rams.

He put the truck in reverse, saying, "I was there, and it was more like I hefted you to the peak."

"Whatever," she mumbled.

He headed down his drive.

"Should I call Dave and Brenda?" she asked.

"Maybe not now. Talk to the police. We'll call them later."

"Well, if word gets around fast?—"

"Honey, I know them. They're gonna be more worried about you than their doorframe. Trust me. Take this one step at a time."

"Okay. I trust you."

His head didn't feel like it was going to explode anymore, but that weight hadn't left his chest. Though, her saying that helped alleviate some of it.

Her cabin was maybe a one-minute drive from his place, once you navigated the lanes, which, both his and hers, added another couple minutes.

So they were at her place in no time, and there were three Fret County Sheriff's vehicles in it, lights still flashing, though one of them just arrived, because the deputies were grabbing gear to prepare to see if there were any forensics to be collected.

When he switched off his truck, he turned to her. "Wait there. I'll lift you down."

"I can climb out, Riggs."

He raised his brows.

"I'll wait," she mumbled.

He ducked his head to hide his smile and got out.

"Hey, Doc," Wade Dickerson, one of the newly arrived deputies called.

"Yo, Wade," he called back as he rounded his vehicle.

She had her door open and her belt off, and he didn't bother spotting her as she gave it a go. He just grabbed her waist, hauled her out and put her to her feet.

"Well, that was expedient," she said.

"We'll practice it," he teased.

"You carting me around?"

"No. You getting in and out of my truck."

She did an eye roll.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the cabin.

"Footies." Sean Stole, another deputy, met them at the door and handed them both two slips of blue fabric with elasticated edges.

Damn, they were taking this seriously.

Maybe their discussion about the Whitakers tweaked Harry.

Or maybe Harry liked someone fucking with Nadia about as much as Riggs did.

"Hold on to me to steady yourself as you put them on," he ordered Nadia.

She did as told and pulled the footies over a pair of strappy flat sandals.

He followed suit, balancing on each leg.

"You're so macho, I think they have to alter the definition of macho to describe you," she said like it was a complaint.

"What?" he asked.

"You couldn't hold on to me when you put on your footies like I did with you?"

"I got good balance."

"So do I."

"My house wasn't just broken into so I got my head together."

"You skidded to a halt in your driveway not fifteen minutes ago."

"Because I was intent to get to you because you sounded panicked due to your house being broken into."

"Another indication of your machismo. I need to inform Webster so they can be thorough in their redefinition."

"See you got two different reactions to possible peril. Being a pain in the ass or being a smartass," he returned.

Her mouth dropped open.

Harry broke into their conversation by saying, "Desi, Lucy, you two wanna come inside and have a look around?"

Nadia swung a scowl Harry's way.

Riggs hooked a thumb at her. "That's the pain in the ass version."

She latched onto his thumb and hissed, "Stop it, Riggs."

He grinned at her.

Harry took her attention.

"Mizz Williams, I'm Sheriff Harry Moran."

"Hi. Nadia. I'm Nadia," she replied, letting Riggs go and sticking out her hand to Harry.

Harry took it, squeezed briefly then let it go and stepped aside so they could go in.

"Have a look around," Harry instructed. "As thorough as possible, but please don't touch anything. If you think you need to touch, let us know and we'll get you some gloves. If you see anything amiss, no matter what it is, bring it to our attention."

She nodded, glanced at Riggs, then started moving around the space.

Riggs crossed his arms on his chest and watched her. Harry settled in beside him and did the same.

She was taking this seriously, and he noted, after a cursory walk-through, she went right to the closet, where the door wasn't open, but it was ajar.

Sean was close, and she asked him to open it for her, which he did.

She went in with Sean and came out to call, "They didn't take my jewelry."

"Please keep looking, Nadia," Harry returned.

She nodded and looked.

After a while, and that buzzing in his head coming back when he saw how pale she became when she got a closer look at the back door, she stopped on the outside beside the kitchen island. Once there, she put her hands to her hips.

Harry and Riggs approached.

When they got close, Nadia shared, "I don't see anything missing. I don't even see anything that's been touched, outside the obvious, the back door."

"You're sure?" Harry pressed.

She nodded while doing a sweep with her eyes.

It was when she looked over her shoulder toward the kitchen that he noticed her body jerk.

"What?" Riggs asked.

Her head whipped around to him, and her eyes were big.

"What, honey?" he pushed.

"Riggs, that wine from your friend is gone."

Riggs stood completely still.

Except his lips.

Those he used to growl, "Motherfucking Bubbles."