ago and converted it.”
“You live here?”
“Me? No. I live a few miles away. Little bungalow on the beach.”
Shep stayed on her six into the cool building, condensation fogging the glass. “Live alone?”
She gave him a strange half smile, almost confused. “No. I live with my landlord, Miss Whittle. She’s a sweetie.”
Like Caley.
She turned left and strode down a long hallway. Soft hums of TVs and chatter carried from the rooms. Not that he expected kids to be asleep even after midnight, but he did expect more buzz after losing one of their own.
“Mary Beth’s room is at the end of the hall.” She pointed to the last door on the right. As they neared it, Caley slowed. “I can’t believe she’s gone,” she murmured.
Against his better judgment, Shep rested a hand on Caley’s shoulder and patted. “There there.”
Caley let an exhausted chuckle loose and touched his hand. Hers was so small next to his. “Thanks, Shepherd.” She seemed to mean it. Maybe he did all right. She unlocked the door, stepped inside and gasped.
* * *
Caley froze in Mary Beth’s room. Nothing but a sliver of moonlight to outline the shadowy hooded figure by the window. He paused, then grabbed a brass lamp and chucked it toward her.
A force shoved her aside and she crumpled to her knees.
Shepherd used his forearm to knock the blow of the lamp away.
The intruder was already halfway through the window.
Lunging, Shepherd latched on to the attacker’s leg, yanking him inside, but the assailant used his other leg and rammed it straight into Shep’s nose, giving him enough leverage to scurry out the window.
Shep wiped the blood seeping from his nose. “You gonna make it, Little Flynn?”
“Yes. I’m fine.” Dazed. Terrified. But alive.
“Good.” Shepherd lurched out the window and disappeared.
Caley flipped on the dorm light, revealing the disaster before her. Drawers had been tossed. Papers and books littered the floor along with everything that had been on the top shelf of Mary Beth’s closet. Even her mattress had been overturned.
She laid a hand on her heart, willing it to slow its pace.
What had the intruder been searching for? And why such a mess? Why not come in and meticulously comb through everything so no one would be the wiser? Especially if the break-in was related to Mary Beth’s death, which was likely going to be ruled an accident.
But now?
Now, it was obvious foul play was at hand. This was too much to be a coincidence. So whoever had come in here like a tornado must have been desperate. The big question was what on earth did he want?
Caley rubbed her sore knee and sat on the edge of the upturned mattress. Of all the people to send why did Wilder send Shepherd Lightman? If his imposing size wasn’t enough to scare someone half to death, the menacing blue eyes, almost gray, and faint scar running through his right eyebrow separating the hairs was. He rarely spoke, but when he did his voice was unmistakable. Baritone. Full of grit and gravel and yet hypnotic. Nothing but rock-solid muscle. Had a record for longest shooting distance as a marine sniper. A point man for the Special Reaction Team. Shepherd Lightman was more machine than man.
Truth was, all Caley knew about Shepherd came from the stories Wilder and the others had told of him. Wild. Fast. A heartbreaker.
But something about his pitiful effort to comfort her actually did comfort her. Bless him. And now he was out there hunting down whoever tried to wallop her with a lamp, and no doubt when Shep did find him, a sheer look would have the intruder confessing everything.
Of all Wilder’s team members, Shep was the only one who revved her heart rate up a notch. Wilder should have sent Beckett Marsh. He was like a brother to her. Or their cousin Jody. She was capable and way easier to talk to.
Shepherd poked his head in the window and Caley jumped.
“Sorry.” He hopped back inside and surveyed the room. “He gave me the slip about a mile down.”
“I guess my gut was right.”
“You’re a Flynn. I’d trust your gut.” He poked around in the empty closet. “What’s your theory?”
“How do you know I have a theory?”
“You’re a Flynn.” He ran his hand along the top of the closet shelf.
Caley pushed her glasses back onto the bridge of her nose and laid her theory on him.
“Well...” His voice sent a ripple through her belly. “I’m inclined to agree. This is desperation right here. And we interrupted him. So he may not have found what he was lookin’ for.” His voice only held a splash of Southern twang, though he was from Alabama. “What do you think he was after?”
“That I don’t know.” Caley kicked at loose clothing piled on the floor. “I don’t want her parents to see this mess. But I know the police need to come in and take prints, even if that guy did have gloves on.”
Shepherd studied her a moment, his gaze lingering on her face until she squirmed. “Let me call Wilder first. See if he can rush Tom at TBPD for answers on her death and if he can get someone out here to take prints. Then we can clean up the mess before her parents show up.”
“Okay. What if they don’t rule this death a homicide? What do we do?”
Shep’s full lips twitched. “We do a little snooping of our own. I have my PI license in Florida. Most detectives have an overload of cases anyway. Your hunch and a tossed room isn’t going to light a fire underneath them on an accidental death ruling.”
She stepped closer to him, noticing a smear on his cheek and fresh blood dripping from his nose. She grabbed a tissue, careful not to touch the box, and held it up. “Shepherd, your nose is still bleeding.”
He dabbed at it and pocketed the tissue while Caley paced the room. “Make the call. But I can’t let her parents in here with the room like this. So tell him to find a way to get me an answer. And say please.”
He nodded and made the call. Fifteen minutes later Wilder called back. Shep put him on speakerphone.
“They’re ruling it accidental. I’m sorry, Caley. No defense wounds, abrasions. Nothing that indicates anything other than a terrible tragedy.”
Caley’s blood boiled and she felt some desperation of her own. “What about the dorm being ransacked? Someone threw a lamp at my head, Wilder!”
Silence for two beats. “I didn’t know about a lamp.” Accusation laced his voice and Shep rubbed his brow.
“Well, Shepherd blocked it but it was thrown at me nonetheless.” She glanced at Shepherd, who was still frowning. “Did
