Was her love genuine or was the declaration another advancing pawn on the chessboard she thought they’d long abandoned? Even she wasn’t sure.
He stared back, face neutral, chest rising and falling with the passing of tranquil breaths.
Her lips parted but an exhalation prevailed over speech.
The permanence of what was so close to sliding off her tongue shook her to the core. It was an admission neither of them would ever forget, and she couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.
“Kenna?”
The sound was so soft she was sure she’d imagined it until she noticed his face was inclined toward hers, features laced with expectancy.
Her lips parted once more but a commotion outside stalled her thoughts. Heavy footsteps thundered on the porch followed by a knock infused with such authority it demanded an answer. More footsteps ensued. Muffled voices.
The door swung inward and Kenna grew faint as they stood face-to-face with a squadron of police officers, led by a lanky man in a dark suit. He presented a gold badge and the faint feeling escalated to a numbness that swirled through her body like novocaine.
“Detective Brian Reynolds with the Portland Police Bureau. I have a warrant from Branch Spring P.D. to search the premises.”
“I know who you are.”
“Procedure. Surely you know all about that, doc.”
He whistled and the officers flooded through the front door like a gang of bloodhounds. They were everywhere all at once. The living room, the makeshift office, the kitchen, disappearing through the hallway and into the bedroom. The same overwhelming need to escape consumed her as it had the day she dared to look inside the box. Her supply of oxygen ceased, searing the underside of her lungs.
Was that why they had come?
Had they reviewed her report they’d initially laughed off and uncovered something worth investigating? She realized that hope was inspired by real love, the hope that she had landed Dayton in this situation and that he had not gone off and committed some heinous act.
Chills ghosted her limbs as she stood perfectly still and watched the officers rifle through drawers while others thumbed through papers. It was a scene ripped straight from one of her worst dreams and yet it unfolded in real time.
Seconds ticking in cadence with her pulse.
The detective’s smooth-talking voice cured Kenna’s state of shock. “I was more than a little disappointed when I saw your flashy car in the driveway. I prefer to conduct my searches while the resident is out. Just my luck.”
Dayton was startlingly calm for someone who was having his house searched. Though, she supposed any other reaction would have drawn suspicion.
“There must be some kind of mistake,” he said.
“Mistake isn’t in my vocabulary. It was a stretch calling it probable cause, but I got my lieutenant behind it.”
Detective Reynolds tore off his glasses and glanced at her, as if he was debating saying anything further with someone else in the room, but he hooked the glasses on the collar of his shirt and proceeded.
“Did you know there aren’t any kind of surveillance cameras behind your practice? You don’t have them, and neither do any of your neighboring renters. What, you guys never heard of break-ins? No use for security equipment in safe little East Haven?”
The ringing in her ears competed with the detective’s words. Dayton and Kenna were intermediates at their metaphorical chess game but Reynolds was a grandmaster.
“I haven’t been a tenant very long. I suppose I haven’t really given much thought to having a system installed.”
“Why don’t we continue this conversation down at the station. Give my boys some space. They’re a thorough bunch.”
Producing a stiff nod, Dayton shot her an apologetic look and stepped outside. She couldn’t stay while the warrant was being executed. That much was clear. The room spun as she grabbed her purse and she fought to stay upright while heading for the door. Detective Reynolds stuck out his foot, preventing her from slipping past him.
This close, Kenna noticed the pockmarks dotting his cheeks. The hair that had been combed more recently than it had been washed. He spoke low, extending a card toward her.
“Give me a call if you happen to know something.”
Snatching the card, she hurried outside.
She lingered on the porch, shell-shocked, as Dayton and the detective got into a black SUV and disappeared down the street. A shiver crested over her, recalling the menacing edge in Reynolds’ voice when he implored her to give him a call, and she worried that she’d end up as an accessory to a crime Dayton may or may not have committed. She did have a bank vault of information on him, after all.