“Yeah. She’s pretty banged up.”
“Where did it happen?” Ryley asked, heading up the stairs with Crews following her.
“Her house. She went home to repack a bag and was on the way out when she was shoved off the porch. The security cameras caught her trying to defend herself against something…invisible.”
Goose flesh raised on Ryley’s arms. This was bad.
“So now you believe her?” Ryley glanced down at the tape at the bottom of her door. It was flapping in the wind.
Had Crews replied, she didn’t hear it. She stepped back until her back was against the railing.
“What’s wrong?”
She pointed to the tape at the bottom. “I set the tape each day I leave.”
Crews bent down to look at the tape and then slowly rose to look over her locks.
“Doesn’t look like anyone jimmied the locks, but give me your key. I’ll check it out. You stay here.”
Ryley didn’t think her feet could budge anyway. Her fingers shook as she handed him the key. A knot swelled in her belly. Fighting ghosts was one thing; fighting the living brought a whole different level of fear. Especially knowing what trouble was headed her way.
He put the key in the lock, and the door inched open. “It wasn’t locked.”
Fear slithered down her spine. “I always lock my door.”
He pulled his gun from the holster before he entered.
Chapter 32
Ryley didn’t wait on the walkway. She followed behind him, afraid of what he might find. He eased into the entryway. Her heart raced with each step. Jake shook his head to make her stay and held his finger to his lips to keep her quiet.
She frowned but didn’t argue. It was easier to escape from the entryway. Easier access to the door. She held onto the knob, ready to pull it open should Crews find what she feared.
A few tense minutes passed before Crews resurfaced. “There’s no one here, but there is something that may or may not be unusual in your bedroom.”
She let out a pent-up breath in a whoosh. “Unusual?” She shut the door, throwing the lock before she followed him down the hall.
Her step faltered at the doorway, but she squared her shoulders and crossed the threshold. Crews was at her dresser. Sitting on the wood surface was a crushed piece of metal. She didn’t need to have a job in forensics to understand what that was. She’d seen it on all the cop shows before. It was a spent bullet. Had that been the one she’d shot into her father?
“Was this always here?” he asked.
Ryley swallowed hard and crossed the room. She picked it up quickly, holding the cold metal in her palm. “My brother must have left it.”
“Is that a normal thing for him to do?” Crews asked.
No. She wouldn’t tell him that the fear in her gut was telling her where it came from. Knowing her father had been in her home left an icy feeling slithering over her limbs.
Crews crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down at her as if his cop radar knew she was lying. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me?”
“I’m sure. Thanks for checking. I probably just forgot to set the tape and lock my doors.” She questioned why she felt she had to lie to Crews but didn’t offer the truth. She headed back out to the living room. “Where is your mom staying?”
“At my house.”
She nodded. “Good. I’m trying to figure out who killed Kitty, but it’s taking longer than I thought.”
“What good is that going to do?” Crews asked.
“If she gets justice, it’s possible she may leave; otherwise, I’ll have to send her out the hard way.”
“And what way is that?”
“I’d need access to touch her corpse. I understand the coroner is holding her on ice.”
“I’m not even going to ask,” Crews said, heading toward the door. He opened it and paused, turning back to look at her. His face seemed set in stone, a muscle popping in his jaw the only movement. “This is my mom. You tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen, even if that means I have to go dig Kitty up out of the ground with my bare hands.” He lifted one of those hands pointing a finger at her. “But don’t make me regret buying into your shit.”
Ryley understood the anger. She understood the need to protect the people she loved. They had a kinship in their motivation. He wasn’t a cop, and she wasn’t just a crazy psychic. “They haven’t buried her yet, but I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll probably be in and out of her house over the next couple of days. This will go a lot faster if I’m not arrested each time I enter.”
He nodded, and his gaze softened as he glanced toward her bedroom. “You going to be okay here by yourself?”
She smiled. “Who said I’m by myself?”
His gaze darted around the room as if searching for the ghosts he couldn’t see. There were none, but he didn’t need to know that.
“You have my number.”
“I do. Text me your address, and I’ll stop by to set up some boundaries so your mom will stay safe while she’s there. Tell her I’ll do her office, too.”
“I’d appreciate that.” He paused and frowned. “I’m not going to pretend I know what you do or what you see, but I believe my mom landed in danger that I can’t protect her from.”
“Lucky for you, I’d rather deal with the dead than the criminals you do.” Ryley crossed the room and paused, her hand on the doorknob. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He glanced down at her closed hand, where she still clutched the bullet, and he nodded. “Good night, Ryley, and be sure to lock your doors.”
“Of course.” She smiled and shut the door behind him, clicking the locks into place. She stared down at the bullet, clutched in her hands. Fighting down panic, she realized she was running
