“I don’t know, to be honest.” She narrows her eyes and glances over her shoulder at me. “I had dinner with Aunt Maggie last week, but I didn’t stop in here. Is that important?”
“I’m just working out a timeline,” he says. “The tires and spray paint happened over four days. Is it possible that he came here during that window, and you’re only finding it now?”
“I honestly don’t know.” She pulls away from me, threading her fingers behind her head, elbows flared as she stares up at the sky. She blows out a sharp breath of frustration.
“I’m so fucking stupid.” She shakes her head. “I should have checked. I should have moved my things already. I should have locked the trailer, but I never even considered him coming here. Fuck!”
“No.” I reach for her again, sliding my hand up her arm. “None of this is your fault.” Using two fingers, I raise her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. “None of it. Not your fault,” I repeat.
She holds my gaze for a moment—like she wants to believe me. Then her eyes flick away, the weight of it all sitting too heavily on her shoulders. She turns, wrapping her arms around herself, taking in the concerned faces of her found family before landing on Mason.
“So,” she asks quietly, “what happens now?”
Mason clears his throat, then says, “I’ll record your statement, photograph the damage. I can speak to Braden again and let him know we’re watching.” He surveys the trailer, then turns back to Beck before asking, “Do you want some real talk?”
“Yes, of course, I do.”
“I’m currently investigating three incidents of mischief. Possibly trespassing and unlawful entry if it could be proven. Braden is the only suspect, but at this time there is insufficient evidence to lay any charges.”
“So what?” Carson snorts, shaking his head. “He’ll just get away with it?”
“We’ll document everything and continue to watch him.” Mason lets his gaze move around the group. “He isn’t staying at his house. The truck hasn’t been spotted for at least a week. It’s possible he’s left town.”
“Do you know if anything is missing?” he asks Beck.
She tosses her hands up in front of herself. “There was nothing to take,” she says in exasperation. “The only things left were personal papers and photos. He did this to hurt me.”
“This is so fucking stupid.” Claire balls her hands tight at her side.
“Look, I hate this too,” Mason says. “I’m sorry there’s not much more I can do. My hands are tied.”
“Mine aren’t,” I mutter, meeting Carson’s eyes.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” He gives me a stern look before turning to Beck. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear. I’m truly sorry for that.”
When she doesn’t respond, he says, “I’m going to inspect inside, and once I’m done, you can get everything cleaned up. Do you have questions?”
Beck sighs softly, then murmurs, “No, I don’t think so.”
“I know this isn’t easy,” Mason says gently. “But given everything that’s been happening, I really think you should consider applying for a restraining order. The ongoing harassment is enough to show reasonable fear for your safety. You’d file the application through family court. If he violates the order, it becomes a criminal case, and he can be arrested immediately.”
“That sounds like a really good idea,” Hannah says. “I can go with you to do the paperwork tomorrow if you want to.”
“Okay. Let me think about it. This has all been a lot.”
“Good.” Mason tips his chin. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I know anything.”
Riot follows Mason to the trailer to witness Braden’s destruction firsthand.
To everyone else, I say, “I want to take Beck back to her house. Would you mind collecting everything and bringing it there?”
“Don’t baby me, Ryan.” She turns and narrows her eyes at me. “It’s my shit. I can help.”
“Nobody is babying you.” Hannah steps forward and gives her a hug. “I promise we will respect your privacy and just gather things up. Maybe it’s not as bad as it looks?”
Beck snorts and rolls her eyes as she steps away.
“I already have broken-down boxes in the back of my truck. It won’t take us long,” Carson tries to reassure her.
