“I know.” He leaned in and kissed her. “I’ll take Maverick out.”
She rolled over and petted the dog, now stationed next to the bed, his eyes shifting back and forth between her and Rob. Maverick seemed to grin as Rob pulled on his jeans and a clean T-shirt.
“C’mon, boy. Let’s go.”
She sighed as she struggled to her feet. She felt hung over. She peered at herself in the bathroom mirror. Ugh. Her eyes were swollen, and her face blotchy with the remnants of her emotional meltdown. A headache lingered in her temple. She ran cold water in the sink and wet a washcloth, holding it over her eyes.
She debated whether to shower. Just the sight of the bathtub made her think how vulnerable she’d been when the alarm went off. She shuddered. She needed to stop thinking about what could have happened. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath, relieved to see determination replace the look of fear that moments ago had graced her reflection in the mirror.
After washing her face and combing her hair, she applied concealer to the dark circles under the eyes and added a light application of mascara. She brushed some mineral powder over her blotchy face. She’d pass muster for work. She dressed in her favorite blouse and pants and put on a colorful scarf to draw attention from her face. Now she was ready for coffee.
Rob and Maverick had returned, and the dog’s nose was buried in his food bowl. “Want some bacon and eggs?”
“No, don’t bother. I’ll have yogurt and a piece of cinnamon toast.” She helped herself to a cup of coffee and put two slices of bread in the toaster. “Want one?”
“Yeah, cinnamon toast sounds great.” He pulled out bacon and eggs and began cooking his usual breakfast as she buttered their toast and applied liberal amounts of cinnamon sugar.
“Cinnamon toast is such a wonderful comfort food,” she said as they sat together eating their breakfast. “I hate to eat and run, but I need to pick the book for the children’s group this morning.”
She leaned down and kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Have a good day.”
“You, too. Think of me.” He arched his eyebrows and gave her a sexy look.
“I always do.” She gathered her things and looked back over her shoulder at her man and dog. “Be good, both of you.”
The day passed quickly, as kids flooded the library for Children’s Story Hour, followed by a steady stream of children and teens after school.
“Hi, Miss Van Buren,” several teenagers greeted her as they entered and claimed a large table in the reference area.
She waved, and made her rounds of the building, checking in with each child to see what help they needed. The computers rapidly filled, and she offered directions on how to use search engines to find reference materials, even though she knew their teachers had covered this in class. Not everybody was comfortable online. She walked the novice users through the steps and made sure they had success finding what they were looking for. Part of the challenge came with their choice of keywords to search, and spelling was always an issue.
By the end of the day, the headache that had been niggling much of the day had blossomed into a persistent pain that throbbed with each heartbeat. She dreaded having to go to the police station and give another statement. It was necessary, but the last thing she wanted was to relive last night.
She called Rob to let him know she was leaving the library.
“Why don’t you come home, and we’ll go together. Then we can grab dinner afterward. I’ll walk Maverick now, so he’ll be able to last until we get home.”
“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll be there soon.”
When they got to the Ridgeview Police Station, she stopped at the window, gave their names, and asked for Officer Ryan or Detective Bailey.
Several minutes later, a tired-looking man in his forties introduced himself as Detective Bailey. “Officer Ryan is off, and I’ve taken over the investigation. I read the statement you gave last night, and I have a few questions for each of you. If you’ll come with me, we can get started.”
He separated them, explaining that he needed to talk with each of them alone. After bringing her a soft drink, the detective started a recording. He identified himself for the recording, and indicated this was an interview with Mary Jane Van Buren, along with giving the date and a case number. “Now then, please tell me what happened last night.”
She told him what happened from the time the alarm went off announcing someone was in the yard. He stopped her occasionally to ask for clarification or more details. When she’d explained everything, he asked about her history with Kent Barnard.
“I don’t really know him. He was at the IGA one day while we were there, and he was harassing our dog, who was waiting in the truck.”
She explained what she knew of his contacts with Rob. “I don’t really understand why he targeted us, or why he wanted to break in and hurt me.”
Detective Bailey’s compassionate demeanor made him easy to talk to, even though he didn’t offer any explanations for Kent’s behavior. After what seemed like hours, the detective thanked her and asked her to wait. As he exited the room, she laid her head down on the table, suddenly too tired to hold it up.
She must have fallen asleep, because she jumped when the door opened again.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” Detective Bailey said. “That’s all I need for now.”
Rob was behind him and gave her a slow, sexy smile. “Let’s go
