6. Katar

I'd just dropped onto the king-sized bed inside my hotel room when my phone buzzed. Thinking it was someone with questions related to my case, I swiped into the call and barked. "Lo?"

Jerky breathing came through the line. Prank call?

Irritation burned through my gut. "Yeah, well—"

"Katar," Bailey shrieked. She lowered her voice. "Katar?"

Not liking how panicked she sounded, I bolted upright.

"Bailey," I said, my training kicking in. I slipped my footwear back on and was halfway to the door before she finished speaking.

"Someone was inside my house! They may still be here!"

The shrill yip of an animal punctuated her words.

"Give me your address," I said. "I'm on my way."

"Please." I could almost see her sagging. "I appreciate it so much."

"Where are you now?"

"Inside my car in my driveway. The doors are locked."

The harsh yips continued. "What's that sound?"

"Mozzarella Sticks."

I frowned as I tugged the hotel door shut and started across the parking lot. "Excuse me?"

"He's Mozzie for short. My dog."

"Ah, yes." I'd only seen dogs on the streets but never interacted with them. We had different sorts of pets in the orc kingdom.

She gave me an address, and I punched it into my phone, the GPS showing me I was only about a half a mile from her place.

"Stay on the line," I said as I broke into a run.

"What sort of vehicle are you driving?"

"None. I'm running."

"Why?"

"Because I don't need a vehicle."

"You don't even sound winded," she said breathlessly.

"I run a lot." And work out a lot. It came with the job. And I was breathing fast already, though not from my efforts. My heart was thumping like the drums of Urbone during the fall festival. While orcs danced and spun, the drum's pace would accelerate until the dancers feverishly thrashed.

I was terrified about what might be happening with Bailey.

"How long will it take you to get here?" she squeaked.

"Five minutes or so."

"You're close." Relief came through in her voice and the barking had stopped. "Thank you."

"Any time." Always.

I rounded a corner and sprinted the rest of the way, seeing a vehicle sitting in the driveway running, its parking lights on.

"I'm here." I slowed when I reached her drive and walked the rest of the way up to her vehicle's side door.

She cracked the window and squinted up at me. "I'm so glad you're here. I was scared."

The fear in her voice made me gnash my tusks. I wanted to track down whoever had terrified her and bash their head in. A primal thought, but that's how it was with mates.

I wouldn't tell her about that—yet. We'd only met today.

But before I was finished with this assignment, I'd make sure she not only knew she was mine, but that she agreed we belonged together forever.

"I'm going inside." I studied the tidy home in sore need of repair. The roof needed replacing, and I'd repaint the exterior, though it was clear someone had done it within the past few years. It wasn't perfect, however, and it would be once I was finished with it. Her front gardens were lovely; she'd had work done there or done it herself. But I would really make it shine.

Well, I'd do all that with her permission, of course. While she was mine in my mind, she hadn't yet agreed.

She would.

"I'll go with you." She unlocked her car door and opened it, holding a light tan dog in her arms. "This is Mozzie." She held up the pup for him to sniff my hand.

While I didn't know dogs, I, like all orcs, adored pets.

Mozzie's gray-flecked brow tightened as he delicately sniffed my fingers. Then he started wiggling. It was all Bailey could do to hold him. His spiked tail twitched, and he whined.

"I think he likes you," she said with a nervous laugh.

I held out my arms, and she stepped into them with her pup between us.

Mozzie continued to squirm, trying to reach my chin with his tongue.

"He doesn't usually like strangers," she said in a hollow voice. She shook, and I wanted to blast whoever had scared her. "But he must sense you're a good person."

"I like to think so. Glad your dog agrees."

Her lips curled up on one side before smoothing. "They say animals are good judges of people—and orcs, too, I suppose." She stepped away from me. Mozzie squirmed and whined, still straining toward me.

I pulled the blade I wore at my waist.

"Whoa." Bailey blinked at it, her eyes widening. "That's some knife."

Frowning, I held it up. "Doesn't everyone carry something like this?"

"I never have, but I'm beginning to think I should." Turning, she rounded her car and entered her garage with me following.

"Is anything out of place?" I took in the three-tiered shelving spanning the back part of the building holding plastic boxes with labels and neat writing.

"Not that I can see. There's nothing out here but holiday decorations, outdoor games, and boxes holding my outside furniture cushions. A few other odds and ends. Nothing of great value." She climbed two steps to a door on the right, opening it and gesturing for me to enter ahead of her. "The breezeway door was unlocked, as is the one to my house, and I'm diligent about locking everything. But the door to my backyard was unlocked when I got home and partway open. Vera came by earlier to let Mozzie into the backyard, but she's as strict about locking up as me."

"She has a key?"

She pushed her glasses up further on her nose. "It's hidden in the backyard. Only a few people know about it."

I nodded slowly as I walked through a tidy entry area with a mat holding boots and sneakers, plus pegs with jackets and a thick coat, and stopped at the entrance to the main part of her house. "Why don't you wait in the car?" I didn't have much hope she'd listen when she hadn't at the library, and I suspected we were about to see a repeat of what we'd discovered in her office. "I want to make sure there's no one inside. You'll be safer in your car. Mozzie too." I added the last as an incentive. She may be willing to endanger herself, but I could already tell that she was fiercely protective of her pet.

"While I agree with you on principle, I'm going with you. Mozzie will sound the alarm if there's someone inside."

I stepped into a neat dining room adjacent to the kitchen, where the countertops were empty other than a jug of cooking implements next to the stove, a vase with a bouquet of flowers at the head of the island, and a bowl holding apples, pears, and bananas to the left of the sink. Other than a medium-sized dining room table with four chairs, there was a hutch holding pottery and delicate china and a sideboard with a few decanters in the dining area.

Mozzie peered around but didn't bark, a good sign.

Bailey closed the door and put him on the floor. He scooted into the kitchen and over to a placemat holding bowls of water and dog food and proceeded to nibble, looking at us as he chewed.

"He's a great watchdog despite his size," she said. "That tells me no one's here." She swallowed. "No one appears to have touched anything in these rooms." Her gaze shot to the hallway to the right of the kitchen. "My bedroom's through there. There are stairs on the right in the hall that lead to the open loft. That's where I slept when I lived here with Helga."

I strode to the kitchen and tucked aside the curtain over the glass panel in the back door, studying the small deck outside and the fenced-in yard beyond, but seeing no movement. After, I scooted up the stairs to the small loft, noting she used it as storage now as there was no furniture. Returning to the first level, I ducked my head into the tidy bathroom across from the door to the loft, before crossing the dining room and peering through the arched opening, taking in a living area across the way.

A growl rumbled in my chest. If only I could shield her from this.

She hovered behind me, clinging to the back of my shirt.

Mozzie trotted up beside me but stopped in the entrance, a low rumble rising in his throat. His fur bristled, and his tail spiked out.

Bailey gasped and rushed past me.

I scooped my arm around her waist, holding her back. "Let me go first."

She looked up at me, nodding, and tears trickled down her cheeks. "Why would anyone do this? Why?"

I took in the complete devastation. Someone had not only flipped the furniture; they'd dumped the bookshelves covering the left wall onto the floor.

"Do you have any idea what someone's searching for?" I asked.