Desert Exposure by Robena Grant

Author:Robena Grant [Grant, Robena]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: suspense, Contemporary, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press, Inc
Published: 2013-04-19T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Rachel opened the front door to her house, and switched on the porch light. Behind her Michael spoke to Ralph. They’d decided against going back to the cabin, and on the drive home all she could think about were the dancers at the bar, and their suggestive comments. Neither she nor Michael had re-opened that subject.

Michael had said it might not be safe to return to the cabin. He’d go alone, tomorrow, to do some surveillance. Annoyed about that, she wondered if she’d been excluded because of her earlier behavior. Or, it could be the crowds jesting that made him want to back away from her. Either way she figured Michael was uncomfortable in her presence, like she was expecting him to jump her bones or get into a fist fight to protect her.

So, he’s neither lover, nor fighter. She grimaced as she turned on the hall light, and stood still for a few seconds, trying to take in the scene but not truly comprehending.

“Michael,” she said finally, hearing the tiny squeak of fear in her voice. “Michael…I…come here.”

Michael bounded up the steps, and came inside the house to stand beside her.

She glanced back at him. He held Ralph in his arms as he surveyed the room, his eyes narrowing and then widening. She stood to one side, a hand clamped to her mouth, no words able to be formed.

“Don’t touch a thing,” he said, handing off Ralph. “Don’t even go inside. I’m calling this in.”

Rachel saw the disarray from her tiny hallway. Favorite photographs of hers, that Grandpa Henry had taken, were ripped from walls in the hall and living room. The glass in the frames was shattered, and probably the photos damaged. She couldn’t look at them. Not yet. Couch cushions were upended and slit, their white insides spewing out like entrails. Drawers hung open.

Her skin prickled and her heart pounded. What had they been looking for?

Michael took out his cell phone, and then grabbed her elbow. “Outside,” he said, with a jerk of his head toward the car.

Rachel went with him, kissing Ralph’s little head every so often for reassurance. They sat back inside her car. Shell-shocked and numb, she nestled Ralph in her lap, gripped her arms tight with both hands and massaged her upper arms in an attempt to force feeling back into her limbs.

She had to stay positive in her thinking. Things could have been worse. She might have been at home. Yet, here she was, still alive. She could think, and feel. She would be okay. So why did she feel so violated? Why did it feel so creepy to think of someone going through her personal effects and trashing them?

Anger displaced numbness. She looked around the street, wanting to lash out, to fight someone. Anyone. She pulled in a couple of deep breaths and reminded herself this was not the time or the place for heroics. She listened to Michael explain everything to the Almagro PD.

Oh, hell. The Hummer was locked in her garage.

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