In that instant, the urge to go to her and wrap his arms around her was almost overwhelming. Almost. Because, let’s be realistic here, no one wants a hug from the guy who’s damaged goods.
“I think it’s clear where your tiny warriors get their fighting spirit.” He injected a note of levity into his voice and was pleased to see her expression lighten correspondingly.
“You think?” She sighed. “Maybe I should use some of that fighting spirit to tackle the toy massacre in the other room.”
As she spoke, Bungee decided to live up to his name. Leaping onto the counter, he sprang from there onto the top of one of the wall cupboards and settled down to view the scene below him with apparent disgust.
“He’s at home already,” Leon said. “Come on, I’ll help you tidy up.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“I want to. By the way...” He paused as they entered the family room. “On the subject of warriors, did the twins overcome their fear of the daycare center?”
Flora sighed. “It’s the strangest thing, but I don’t think they did. Not completely. They still seem reluctant to go.” She lifted the lid of a large toy box and began to pile playthings into it. “Stevie’s accident must have affected them more than I realized.”
“You’re sure nothing else has happened to upset them?” Leon asked.
“I spoke to Daisy about it, but she can’t think of anything.” If they ever gave out medals for toy-tidying, Flora would be standing on the highest podium in first place. She whirled around the room in double time, leaving him feeling slightly breathless. “She reassured me that they’re quite happy once they get there, and she’s asked all the staff to keep a close eye on them just to be sure.”
Leon knelt to restore toy cars to their place in a brightly colored garage. He also picked up a pad of paper and a pen that had been dropped close to the safety screen that guarded the fireplace. “Do these go into the toy box?”
“No.” She clicked her tongue in exasperation. “Frankie has a thing about taking them out of my work bag. Although—” She broke off, looking around her with a frown.
“Is there a problem?”
“Yes.” Flora’s movements slowed, and she stared across the room, concern stamping itself onto her face. She pointed to the items in his hand. “I used that pad and pen in work this afternoon to record my conversation with Lilith Bronson. When I left the Ryerson Center, I collected the boys from daycare, and came straight home. I placed my bag in the closet in the porch. Then we got ready and came out to your place.” She swallowed hard. “The boys didn’t have an opportunity to get into my bag.”
Leon placed the pad and pen down on a coffee table. “Let’s check it out.”
Flora moved to his side, her hand automatically sliding into his. Leon took a moment to be pleased with his own reactions. Calm and decisive. Was it the situation or the woman at his side that had triggered the return of those personality traits? He didn’t have time for any in-depth self-analysis.
When they stepped into the small square porch, Leon flicked on the light. There was a closet to the right of the front door and Flora let go of his hand to open it. Reaching inside, she emerged holding a leather bag that looked like a cross between a tote and a briefcase.
Her expression had softened and was more puzzled than fearful. “I still don’t understand how those little mischief-makers found the time to get away from me.” She opened the zipper as she spoke. “I’m even more surprised that they could reach this door handle—oh!”
Although Leon couldn’t see into the bag, the reason for the exclamation became clear as she dropped it onto the floor and its contents spilled out. Among them was a scarf. It was vivid yellow and styled to look like a strip of crime-scene tape.
“Is that the same as the one you described as belonging to Jennifer Webster?” Leon asked.
“Yes.” Flora’s complexion paled.
His shocked brain had latched onto the most trivial detail. The color of the scarf, not how it had gotten into her bag. “I can see why you didn’t like it. You didn’t mention the bloodstains.”
She moved closer, clutching hold of his arm and leaning against him. “There weren’t any bloodstains when I last saw Jennifer wearing it.”
“The kitchen window has been pried open,” Leon said as he came back into the family room. He and Detective Joe Nolan had completed a thorough check of the whole property. “You would only have noticed it when you opened the window and realized the catch was loose. Joe has gone back to his patrol car. Even though he doesn’t think the intruder will return, he said he wants to watch the house from the rear.”
Flora huddled farther into the sofa, clutching her coffee cup a little tighter. The unthinkable was true. Someone had been inside her house. Twice. The place she had taken possession of with such pride a few short weeks ago, the dream home for which she had such plans, the safe haven where her boys were sleeping upstairs...
She choked back the panicky gasp that rose to her lips. “Even if we set aside all the other questions for the time being, how could the person who broke in here have known that my bag would be in that closet?”
Laurie looked up from her task of labeling an evidence bag. “It was probably a lucky chance. The intruder wanted to plant the scarf to make a big impact. Once inside the house,
