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Shaking her head, Lori jumped out of her truck and slammed the door. The floodlight between the two bays was out, so that might be the explanation for the strange streaks of darkness twisting across the doors. Lori was walking closer when her heels crunched against something sharper than gravel. She froze and looked down at shards of broken glass that winked moonlight at her.
The eerie feeling of something out of place was replaced by alarm. Lori took a step back and spun in a slow circle. No dark figure loomed nearby. Everything else looked normal, so Lori raced back to the truck for a flashlight.
The bright beam revealed a swath of glass shards trailing across the gravel that led to the bay doors. She swept the light higher and gasped so loudly that her own voice echoed back at her.
What she’d thought were twisted shadows were, in fact, deep dents in the metal doors. It looked as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to them. The floodlight hung from the wall by its wires, the thick glass bulbs shattered just like the windows of the garage doors.
The flashlight slipped in her hand, nearly falling to the ground. She was holding it too tight, sweat making the grip slippery, so Lori switched it to the other hand and reached into her truck for her phone. The light beam shook.
Of course, the wind chose that moment to pick up. Something slid across the ground a dozen feet away. Likely just a plastic bag or dead leaves, but the adrenaline rushing in her veins insisted it was something dangerous. Lori pressed her back against the open truck door and swung the flashlight wildly around the lot. The sweeping beam caught shadows and then dropped them, creating movement where there was none. Her panicked breathing grew so loud she was sure someone could walk straight up to her and she’d hear nothing but her own fear.
“Calm down.” Her words trembled, so she repeated the admonition. “Calm down.” Her brain ceased spasming long enough to insist that she get back in her truck, so Lori did just that. As soon as she’d shut and locked the door she felt better. And she felt downright safe once she’d restarted the engine and switched on the high beams.
“Okay,” she whispered. “You’re okay. No one’s here.” Not that she was taking any chances. Lori dialed 911 and held her breath until a male voice answered.
“This is Lori Love of Love’s Garage. Someone broke into the garage. Or maybe just vandalized it. I don’t know.”
“Are you still at the site?”
“Yes.” She recognized the voice of Ben’s newest officer, the one assigned to dispatch until he racked up some seniority. She wished it were someone a little older and more experienced.
“Okay, are you somewhere safe?”
“I think so.” A faint crackle of voices came over the line.
“I’m dispatching officers right now. Tell me where you are, so they don’t mistake you for the trespasser.”
She nodded. “I’m in my truck in the lot.”
“Can you see the suspect?”
“No. I don’t think anyone’s here. I don’t know. Should I check? I didn’t think—”
“No, stay in your vehicle. The officers should be there any moment.”
Before he’d finished speaking, the faint whine of a siren filtered through her closed window. Within seconds, blue flashes of light were bouncing off the side wall of the building across the street. These guys were good. Or the town was just small. Hopefully both.
The first officer on the scene ignored her entirely. He parked his SUV, unholstered his weapon and started prowling around. When the second vehicle screeched to a halt, Ben jumped out and headed straight for her truck. Lori fought the urge to rush out and throw herself into his arms. Undignified and probably uncalled-for. She rolled down her window instead.
“What happened?” Ben demanded.
She explained as quickly as she could, and then everything was moving at a comfortingly fast pace. Ben ushered her out of her truck and into his, speaking what seemed to be gibberish into a little radio at his shoulder. He switched on a spotlight, and then locked her inside. After a quick conference with his officer, the two men split up and disappeared from Lori’s view.
Secure in Ben’s truck, Lori began to feel a little silly about her fear. Her heartbeat slowed and, as her blood pressure decreased, all the creepiness dissipated from the scene before her, helped along by the unflinching brightness of the spotlight. The garage had been vandalized, that was all. The house looked secure. No doors or windows stood open, as far as she could see. No dead animals nailed to the wall. No stalkers creeping along in the shadows. Just two dented garage doors.
Well,onedented door and one completely smashed, crooked door.
“Crap.” That was going to cost a pretty penny. When she got her hands on the asshole who’d done this…Apparently there was a thin line between fear and anger, because Lori felt suddenly furious. She wanted to strangle someone, beat the living daylights out of them. Power rushed into her muscles, signaling the fight part of her instincts. But flight returned with a fury when the door jumped beneath her elbow. Lori screeched.
“Sorry,” Ben said as he swung it open. “Just me.”
Once she’d detached her nails from his leather upholstery, Lori jumped down from the truck and rubbed her sweating hands against her skirt. When she remembered she wasn’t wearing panties, she frantically smoothed it back down. Jesus, had she flashed Ben getting into his truck?
“We didn’t find anyone,” he said, seemingly unfazed by any dirty bits he might have seen. “You said you saw nothing except the damage, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay, let’s survey it together, and then I want to walk your house with you. We’ll take some pictures of the vandalism and fill out reports, so I’ll be here for a while.” He flipped out a notebook and his eyes flicked down to her heels. “Were you returning from someplace close?”
