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Passing through to the bedroom, Moe quickly checked the closet and beneath what was left of the bed, the mattress hanging half off the frame with multiple stab wounds down the center.
After a quick check through the French doors onto the minuscule balcony, Moe turned and hurried back to Bea.
He found her kneeling among the shattered remains of the living room side tables, picking up the pieces of a torn photograph.
Bea’s hands shook. The only spots of color on her pale face were the rusty freckles scattered across her nose, her green eyes and the shadowy crescents beneath them.
She stood, clutching the tiny fragments of paper in her fist. “Who would do this?” Her voice caught. The muscles in her throat convulsed as she swallowed hard. “And why?”
Fear and desolation etched lines across her forehead and deepened the dark shadows beneath her eyes.
His heart pinching hard in his chest, Moe gathered her into his arms. “These are just things. What’s important is that you weren’t here when whoever did this was.”
She leaned her forehead into his shirt and shivered violently. “I’ve never been afraid of anything in my life.” Her fingers curled into his shirt. “Until now,” she whispered. Bea looked up into his eyes. “How do people live like this?”
He brushed a strand of her ginger hair off her forehead. “Fear isn’t a bad thing. It makes you more aware of your surroundings and reminds you that you can be brave in the face of it.”
“Were you afraid in the war?” she asked
He smiled crookedly. “Every damn day.”
Her brow crinkled. “What did you do?”
“I used that fear. It gave me laser focus and helped me see clearly exactly what I had to do. I powered through. I didn’t let it beat me.”
She looked down at the shredded bits of a photograph. “They’re just things,” she echoed and let the bits of paper filter through her fingers like confetti. When she looked around at the destruction, she shook her head. “How can I stay in this apartment? The locks on the door did nothing to keep them out.”
“Sweetheart, you can’t stay in this apartment or this town. Not alone, anyway.” His hand tightened slightly at the small of her back. “You need to be somewhere safe, with someone looking out for you.”
Her brow furrowed. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m a grown woman, capable of defending myself. I’ve taken several self-defense classes. Hell, I’m a black belt in Tae Kwon Do.” Her lips twisted. “And it didn’t do me a whole lot of good when two men ganged up on me.” Her eyes widened. “I have a gun.” She stepped away from Moe’s embrace and ducked into the bedroom.
Moe followed.
Bea jerked open the nightstand drawer and swore a stream of curses that would make a sailor blush. “I had a gun. The bastard took it.”
“One thing is certain,” Moe declared. “You can’t stay here.”
“I have to.” Bea glanced around at the mess. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Don’t you have family you can stay with?” Moe asked.
Bea’s brow dipped lower. “Absolutely not.”
Moe stared at the woman, trying to decipher what she meant by absolutely not. She’d spoken the two words with such vehemence they had to mean something to her.
“What about a friend?” he asked.
She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “I told you I had high hopes you might be one of my first friends in the Bozeman area. You quickly squashed my chances since you’re not staying.”
Moe’s cell phone vibrated in his back pocket. He pulled it out, stared down at the screen, swore and looked up to meet her gaze. “It’s the hospital. They’ll have my package ready in fifteen minutes. I need to get there quickly, then fly to Denver with the transportable organs.”
“Yes, you do.” Bea looked around at the mess. “Leave me here to manage the police. Go. Save lives.” She gripped his arm and turned him toward the door. “Seriously, I’ll be fine.”
Moe dug in his heels. “You’re not staying here.” He turned, took her hand and stared into her eyes. “Do you trust me?”
Her brow twisted. “As much as I trust a man I met less than two hours ago who just happened to save my life.” She shrugged. “So far, you haven’t done anything to make me distrust you.”
He chuckled. “I hope I never do.” His hand tightened around hers. “I don’t have time to discuss this or argue. Lives are at stake. Yours and the people who will benefit from those organs.”
