5. Bailey

"Well, I'm here now," Flynn said, his brow narrowing on Katar. "You, sir, can leave. I'll take care of Bailey and help her handle this horrifying incident."

Detective Carter looked between Flynn and Katar, though I wasn't sure why his lips were compressing. "I'm going to take a look around."

"Can I tidy up here?" she asked.

"Anything missing?"

"My laptop."

He grunted. "I guess you can straighten things out. Keep a list of whatever's missing." He strode from the room and his footsteps echoed in the hall and then on the stairs.

"I'll help Bailey," Katar said pleasantly, his fingers tightening on mine.

Flynn and I had dated over a year ago, but we'd mutually agreed it wasn't working out. I'd even heard he was seeing someone new. So why was he scowling at Katar and glaring at our clasped hands? Despite one steamy kiss I itched to repeat, Katar and I were only friends. Acquaintances, actually. We'd only met a few hours ago.

I shrugged off the feeling Flynn was acting proprietary. I was upset and couldn't be reading him right.

"It's late. You should go," I told Flynn. "I'll remain here until the detective is finished."

"I don't mind staying to . . ." His glare deepened as he took in Katar. "Make sure you're okay."

"I am. Really. You can go." I flicked my hand toward him. "As Katar said, he'll stay with me."

"All night if she needs me." His voice was a low rumble that made my heart do spontaneous things like dance the mambo.

"You're sure?" Flynn held out his hand. In the past, I would've taken it, and he'd hold me. While our relationship hadn't worked out, we'd remained friends.

With the situation at the library, I needed all the friends I could get.

Disengaging from Katar, I stepped forward and took Flynn's hand. He tugged me into the crook of his arm and urged me out of the office and down the hall.

"Are you completely sure you're alright?" He shot a glare over his shoulder and leaned toward me, lowering his voice. "If you're . . . in trouble. You know. The theft or anything at all, you can trust me to stand with you and help you through it."

A peek told me Katar had remained inside my office.

"I'm fine." In the past, I'd enjoyed his kind touch. His kisses? Not much, which was part of the reason we'd called it quits. He did nothing for me, and when I confessed, he admitted he felt the same.

We reached the front door, and I tugged it open. Flynn had his own key, as did all the six board members, including our volunteers Vera and Carole. My next-door neighbor, Carole, moved to town a few years ago, buying and completely restoring the old colonial home on the other side of my fence.

"Thank you for coming when you heard the call on the scanner," I said.

He stroked my cheek. "You know I'm always here for you, even if we're no longer together. The theft of the book was enough, but this! Well, the book may be gone, and may I say, I'm sure someone has added it to their private collection already, and I doubt we'll ever hear about it again, but you and I are a team. There isn't much I wouldn't do for you."

We hadn't exactly been together; it was only a few dates, but I nodded. He was still a good friend, and there were times when a woman needed all of those she could get.

"Call me tomorrow," he said, his hand dropping to his side. "Let me know what the detective finds out."

"I will."

I watched as he strode down the walkway and got into his car parked next to mine in the lot. After he'd pulled out onto the street and drove away, I closed and locked the front door.

Back in my office, I sighed.

Then I got to work, picking everything up and placing it in tidy piles on my desk. Katar helped, periodically shooting me concerned looks.

"You're sure you're alright?" he rumbled.

"I'll be fine." Eventually. My body shook, and I wanted to go home and curl up on my couch.

After I'd finished organizing things and taking an inventory, I called one of our volunteers, Vera. She often dog-sat for me if I needed to be out of town or would be gone too long for my doggie's elderly bladder. Like always, she'd use the spare key I hid in my backyard.

"Hey, I'm working late. Could you let Mozzie out?" I asked. Mozzie was short for Mozzarella Sticks, my pup's name.

"Of course. If I can drag your potato off the couch," Vera said with a laugh.

A geriatric fox terrier-poodle-plus everything else tiny mix, Mozzie did enjoy snoozing.

"I really appreciate it. I'll let him back in when I get there."

"Working late again?" Two years older than my twenty-eight, Vera was single like me. She was on the prowl for a husband, however—unlike me.

My gaze shot to Katar, who was gently lifting books and carefully placing them back on the shelves. Few people treasured books like me, but it appeared Katar did.

"Yes, late." I'd tell her about the break-in tomorrow. She worked as an accountant in town and volunteered in the library.

"I'll give Mozzie some treats when I'm there," Vera said.

"I owe you."

"I'll call it due the next time I go away. You can sit with Puff." Her very social mixed Siamese cat who didn't like to be left alone for more than a few hours.

"It's a deal." I hung up and slumped in my office chair while Katar finished returning the books to the shelves. "Thanks for doing that."

"No problem. You have some amazing books." He turned and leaned against the wall next to the floor-to-ceiling bookcase, scrolling through one of the books. "This is a first edition of Charlotte's Web."

"Helga Merryweather gave that to me six years ago on my birthday. After she adopted me, she gave me a book each year, all first editions."

"That was nice of her."

"She had her lawyer mail me this year's present after she died, but I haven't opened it yet." I wasn't sure I could. It would hurt terribly, reminding me that the woman I'd called Mother was gone forever.

"When's your birthday?"

"In a few weeks. She wasn't just my boss here at the library. She essentially raised me because . . ." My face overheating with embarrassment, I looked down at my hands wringing on my lap. "My parents had a problem with drugs. When they overdosed when I was fourteen, she went to the courthouse and got permission to raise me." I'd called her mother and gave her chocolates each Mother's Day.

"She sounds like an amazing woman."

"She was." I smiled as memories washed over me, soothing me. "She loved to bake, and we made cakes and cookies all the time. We didn't eat them—well, not all of them." My rueful laugh rang out. "We donated many of our creations to the homeless shelter in town. Anyway. Every night, even though I was old enough to do so myself, she'd read to me. That's where my love of books came from. She died a year ago." I traced my fingertip along the book's spine. "Helga was sweet, seamlessly stepping into my parents' place. She'd wrapped each book in special paper, and I opened them on my birthday." After this birthday, however, there would be no more gifts from her to open.

"I'm sorry you lost her, that your parents weren't there for you when you needed them." He carefully placed the book on the shelf.

"Thanks."

"I feel like I want to hug you again," he rasped, staring down at me with warmth in his eyes. "But if you're not the kind who enjoys things like that, let me know."

He must've seen me shrug away from Flynn. With Katar, however, it already felt different.

That kiss . . . I couldn't stop thinking about it and how I'd like to do it again. It hadn't felt like mashing mouths together like with Flynn. No, it felt like losing a part of myself but then being put back together in a new and different way.

"I like hugs," I said softly.

He pulled me into his arms and held me. No hands roaming where they shouldn't—a common thing with guys who said they wanted to give you a hug but were really just looking for an opportunity to grope. No caging me against the wall to turn this sexual, also something too common with guys I'd met through dating apps.

When the detective walked into the office, we pulled apart. I swore I felt us sever, as if strands of warmth had connected us but were suddenly sliced through in a messy way.

Odd, but the feeling must come from the connection I felt with Katar already.

"I didn't find anything suspicious," the detective said, his sharp gaze looking back and forth between us. "I took pictures in the attic." He scratched the back of his neck, his gaze shooting between us. "We can save the questions for tomorrow if you'd like."

"Thank you. I'm exhausted."

He gave me a slow nod.

"Do you think this is connected to the theft of the orc tome?" I asked.

"Hard to say when that happened six months ago, but we won't dismiss the idea."

I wasn't sure I had much information to offer, but I set up a time to speak with him in the morning, here at the library.

As he left, I gathered my things including my purse I'd tucked into my right desk drawer when we were tidying. There was no evidence that the person who'd ransacked my office had tried to break the lock. Maybe they weren't searching for money. Which begged the question. What were they looking for?

"It seems silly to lock up when someone's already been inside," I said as we stood on the deck, and I turned the key in the front door. I was already mentally reorganizing my morning to accommodate the detective's visit.

"Can I give you my number?" Katar asked as we walked to my car.

I handed over my phone, and he typed it in.

"I'll be happy to help you in the morning," he said as I slid into the driver's seat.

"You don't have to do anything like that."

"I'm a diplomat, but we don't have anything planned for the next week. Let me help you?"

He pleaded so sweetly, I couldn't say no.

Actually, I didn't want to say no. I wanted to see him again, even if it was only to organize everything in the attic.

"I appreciate the offer. I'll be limited for time, but at eleven, one of our volunteers, Vera, will arrive to take over the desk. I'm free until two, when she has to leave."

"Perfect." He rested his hand on the open doorframe. "I can be here when you meet with the detective as well. I'm essentially another witness."

"Good point. Would you like to come by the library before nine, then?"

He nodded, and he leaned toward me. For a moment, I thought he'd kiss me again, and my heart flipped over at the thought. But he straightened and frowned as if deep in thought before backing out of the opening.

"Tomorrow," he said.

With a nod, I shut the door and started my vehicle.

It didn't take long to reach my small home. I left the car in the driveway rather than lift the garage door to put it inside. The door opened hard, and it was one more thing on my list that needed fixing.

Helga Merryweather had left me the tiny, two-bedroom cottage her dad built. Despite it being a homemade, campy thing with stuff always breaking, I treasured the security I'd found there from the time she took me in. I'd moved into the cottage after she died and tried to piece my life back together again for the second time.

My salary at the library was decent, and owning a home helped with my monthly expenses, but there never seemed to be enough for all that needed to be done.

I entered through the breezeway connecting the single-vehicle garage to the small house, kicking off the kitten heels I'd retrieved. A soft woof from my left told me Mozzie was done with his nighttime adventure in our backyard.

But when I went to unlock the door leading from the breezeway into the house, I found it cracked open.

My fingers froze on the knob. I never left it like this. After watching my parents be robbed almost monthly for whatever stash they might have hidden, I was hyper about security. Vera was just as vigilant. She would never have left my home unlocked.

Chills rippled across my skin.

Someone had been inside my home.

Were they still here?