her eyes pinched closed, she could see her windshield, and she clamped them even tighter, trying to dispel the image. Although the picture wouldn’t disappear, she refused to give in to the burning at the back of her eyes, instead letting out a slow breath through clenched teeth as she prayed for something she couldn’t even name.
Peace?
Courage?
Protection?
“There’s no one there.” Matt’s words snatched her from the depths of her own mind. “This must have happened a while ago.” His lips barely moved, but the force of his tone could have blown over the first little pig’s house. She could only be thankful that his ire was directed at the situation and not at her.
“Thanks for checking.”
“We need to report this.”
She nodded, reaching into her purse and pulling out her phone. “First I have to call the house and make sure everyone’s okay. That this guy—” she nodded toward her car “—didn’t go there after doing this.” With fingers that shook more than she wanted to admit, she punched in the number to Lil’s Place; the knot in her stomach tightened with each unanswered ring.
The intensity in Matt’s eyes only made her throat thick, so she turned her back on him. Holding her breath on the fifth ring, she prayed someone would pick up. What if the man who’d smashed her windshield and left this note had hurt the women at Lil’s?
No. She wouldn’t let that happen. Not on her watch.
If someone didn’t answer on the next ring, she’d fly—shattered glass and all—back to the house.
“Hello?”
“Meghan?”
“Hi, Ashley.” Was her voice too calm? Her tone overly cool? Was someone there with her, threatening her?
Ashley bit her lip hard, the pain forcing her mind back to the immediate. “Is everything all right at the house?”
“Of course.”
“But it took five rings for you to pick up.”
Meghan chuckled, the bright, cheerful sound an exact replica of her ten-year-old daughter’s laugh. “The girls and I are making cookies, and we had the mixer on. We didn’t hear the phone.”
“And everyone else? Carmen? Benita and Julio?”
“Well, Carmen left this morning with you, but everyone else is in the living room.” Right. Carmen’s interview and testing for the bookkeeping position would last at least another couple of hours, and she had lined up another ride back to Lil’s.
Meghan’s tone dropped, and Ashley could picture her ducking into the hallway away from her two young daughters. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”
Ashley let out a slow breath, glancing back at the car and the intimidating man leaning against it. Arms crossed, he leaned on one leg and rested the other foot on top of the opposite ankle, his eyes sweeping the street over and over. When he caught her staring at him, he gave her a quick nod and returned to his watching.
“Yes, yes. Everything’s fine. I’ll be home soon.”
“All right. Bye, then.”
Ashley pressed the button on her phone to end the call and slipped it back into her purse. The hair on her arms was just beginning to fall back into place.
She turned to call to Matt, only to find him already at her side, the offending note gripped between two gloved fingers. “Ready?” He nodded toward the police station across the street and fell into step beside her.
* * *
It took all of Matt’s willpower not to run to the police station and demand to know why they hadn’t done more to protect Ashley and her charges. How could the cops let a car be vandalized right across the street from their station? He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. For all intents and purposes, he was a civilian here with no authority. And the police wouldn’t be willing to work with him if he charged in, taking over the situation.
He could sit back this time. Watch and listen. Any mission was doomed to fail if there wasn’t enough intel. Time for a little recon.
As they entered the fluorescent light of the station, Ashley’s back arched a fraction, her pointed chin sticking out just a little bit farther, and he couldn’t help his smile as she approached the unassuming officer standing behind the counter.
“I’d like to speak with the chief.” Ashley’s voice, completely even and free of any hint of the scare she’d just received, carried to every corner of the room. If the chief was in, he’d heard her.
“I’m sorry.” The officer folded his newspaper and set it on the counter, smoothing it out with a single swipe. “The chief isn’t in right now.”
Ashley leaned in a little more, her eyes unblinking. “Well, then, who can I speak with about my smashed windshield and the threatening note left under my wiper? Perhaps you’re available to take a look at it?”
“Sorry. I’m the only one here, and I can’t leave.” The burly desk sergeant flipped his hand toward the two chairs on the opposite side of the room. “But you can wait here for the chief if you want to.”
Ashley’s shoulders dropped a fraction, but she marched over to the chairs as though this was why she’d come to the station. Matt couldn’t match her nonchalance; his frown was still on display. When they were settled into the seats, he bent toward her. “Is it usually like this?”
“Small town. Small police force.” She never took her gaze from the sergeant—at least, what was visible of the top of his head behind the paper he’d resumed reading. “The chief knows my situation, but he’s still only one guy.”
The police might not be much help. Matt had hoped that they would be halfway to identifying the threat to Ashley by now. But if the local law enforcement wasn’t equipped to do that, it was up to him. Which meant he needed information and a place to start. No time like the present.
“So who do you think tried to run you over last week?”
Taking an audible breath, she sat a little taller in her chair. “Like I said before, we get calls and threats at Lil’s Place. It’s just part of the job. Ex-husbands. Soon-to-be exes. Boyfriends. We’ve heard from them all. But we hadn’t had anything significant for a few weeks before last. Of course, we hadn’t had any new residents for a while up until last week. But there’s something different about these threats.”
“How so?”
She folded her hands in her lap, every inch the calm and collected professional until her knuckles turned white. She squeezed them so hard that the tips of her fingers turned red; she seemed wound tighter than a guitar string. But at least he could help her. He’d do whatever it took to make sure that Ashley—and anyone that she called family—was safe from whatever goon lurked in the shadows. He owed that to Ashley and her mother, who’d welcomed him into their family—and he owed even more to Tristan, who would never forgive him if anything happened to Ashley on his watch.
“Usually
