As for staying out on that porch...
No, thank you.
She glanced around. Her gaze searched the small scattering of buildings around the main house. What if a shooter was out there? She’d make a perfect target.
Veronica rushed inside the house and nearly slammed into Jasper. “I’m coming with you,” she whispered.
He frowned, but nodded.
They made their way down the hallway. Nothing was missing. Nothing broken. It didn’t look as if anyone had been there. Maybe she was wrong.
He motioned with his hand to indicate that they should head up the stairs.
Her fingers curled over the wooden bannister. The third stair creaked beneath her feet, and that sound was far too loud.
Her breathing was too loud, too. Too quick. Too raspy.
He turned at the top of the stairs and headed for her brother’s room. The door was partially open. With his left hand, Jasper opened the door wider, even as his right hand kept his gun ready.
The door swung open.
Destruction.
The room had been ripped apart. The mattresses slashed. Every dresser and chest drawer yanked out and overturned. The dresser mirror lay in what looked like a thousand pieces.
“Somebody was looking for something.” Jasper’s quiet voice.
It looked as if somebody had been looking to wreck the place.
Jasper’s hand wrapped around her wrist and they headed back into the hallway. The next room they checked was hers.
The door was shut. She was the one to turn the handle and push the door open.
Her room looked even worse. Because it wasn’t just her mattresses that were slashed. Her clothes were slashed. Her photos. Every memento that she’d ever had was in pieces on her floor.
It was as if someone had grabbed her and punched her in the face.
This? This was someone looking for something? No, this was a personal attack.
She must have made some kind of faint sound because Jasper’s gaze jumped to her face. In that stare, she saw a white-hot fury. It was a fury she felt, too.
My home. My safe place.
Someone had come in here and tried to destroy her world. To rip away her safety.
No, to cut away that safety. Because it sure looked as though someone had used a knife on her mattress and clothing.
A knife... The intruder had attacked all of the things that were personal to her. If she’d been there, what would the intruder have done?
Would he have attacked her?
Killed her?
She heard a faint creak. The same creak she’d made when she stepped on the loose stair. In an instant, Jasper was rushing past her and heading for the stairs. “Stop, you son of a—” Jasper yelled, but then his yell died away.
Veronica was right on his heels. She could see why he’d stopped his order. Because the man on the stairs had a gun, too. One that was trembling, but still aimed right up at Jasper.
And that man was Deputy Jimmy Jones.