“Okay.” I swallowed, trying to regulate my breathing. I dug in my purse for my keys and the pepper spray attached to it. “Okay.”
“Is this Audrey Monroe?”
I furrowed my brow. “Yes.”
“Oh, honey.” Her tone shifted. “I was so sorry to hear about your dad.”
“Um, thanks.” It didn’t really seem like the time to mention how inappropriate her comment was, considering my life was literally depending on this woman, whoever she was. Even so, it was unnerving—I’d been back for only a few hours, and everyone already knew my business. That was definitely something I hadn’t missed.
The footsteps stopped, indicating the intruder had reached the bottom of the stairs. I closed my eyes and felt as if my heart might burst out of my chest. Was this what my father had experienced with his heart attack? The thought floated through my mind before it was gone.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to remain as silent, as still, asinvisibleas possible. I could picture the entryway, imagine them spotting my luggage, and then—the door swung open, my eyes with it, and light flooded the space. I stood there a moment in shock, wishing I could disappear.
His eyes connected with mine, and my heart sped up. Clear blue. Piercing. And as shockingly brilliant as one of my favorite golden era stars—Peter O’Toole.
And just like Peter O’Toole inHow to Steal a Million, he was an intruder. I lifted my hand, aimed and sprayed.
“What the— Argh.” He stumbled backward, hand over his face. “Son of a bitch. Fuck, that stings.”
Someone banged on the front door with authority. “Police. Open up.”
I screamed my head off. “Help! In here!”
“Fucking great.” He stumbled toward the kitchen.
The front door came crashing in, and an officer glanced around.
“He’s getting away!” I pointed toward the kitchen where the intruder had turned on the water.Huh?
The officer peeked his head around the entrance to the kitchen. “Ethan?”
“You know him?” I asked at the same time the man—the intruder—answered. “Yeah?”
“Audrey?” a familiar voice asked, and I turned to find Emerson’s husband, Grant, stepping through the door. “You okay?”
“No.” I smoothed my hair back, annoyed by the perpetual battle I waged against frizz.Damn humidity.“That man—” I lifted my chin, not even bothering to look at the perpetrator as I pointed toward the kitchen “—was in my home.”
“Your home?” Ethan scoffed, his voice floating through the house. “That’s rich, seeing as you haven’t stepped foot in the place in what—five years? And suddenly, it’syourhome.”
“Excuse me?” I spun to find him leaning against the kitchen sink as if he owned the place. His attitude was infuriating. “Do we know each other?”
“No.” Though it sounded like he added “Good thing, too” under his breath.
Who the hell was this guy?
I turned to Grant. “Shouldn’t you be arresting him?”
But it was Ethan who answered. “I left something upstairs last night and came to grab it. I didn’t know she’dbe here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a shower.” He glared at me.
“Pepper spray,” the other officer muttered to Grant.
Grant jerked his chin in the direction of the door. “Of course. Go. I’ll catch you later.”
“Go?” I gasped, turning from one to the other. “Catch you later? Um, guys—” I directed my attention to Grant and the other officer “—I know this isn’t a large city like Boston, but breaking and entering is still very much against the law.”
Ethan’s boots reverberated against the floorboards, and my temper rose with every step. There was chatter on the radio, and the other officer relayed some information as Grant stepped closer.
“Audrey.” He placed a hand on my forearm. “Are you okay?”
