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Peter navigated the drone through the house, clearing rooms without putting anyone in danger if Brad was hiding in the house. A drone with video wouldn’t see inside closed closets, but this one had an infrared camera, so they’d see any heat signatures inside. The house was empty as far as they could see. “Okay, that’s the last one.” He stepped back. “I’ll get the drone out, and we can go in.”
Roxie stepped back from the trunk and slipped her earpiece in. “On it.” She headed for the others by their SUV who were already gearing up. “We’re a go. House is empty.”
There were four others with them. Usually, when they did something like this, it would be just her and Peter. These Vanguard employees were here to protect her.
One studied her, a guy who just came off a personal protection job for a singer in Tennessee. “Maybe you should wear a helmet.”
Roxie said, “If you’re worried about a sniper, I should have put it on before I got out of the car.” She turned away. She was all for exercising reasonable caution, but full body armor would only slow her down and leave her without the range of motion she needed when she came face-to-face with him again.
Brad.
Not Mark.
Her heart and mind were still having trouble processing that it wasn’t the man who had tormented her and mixed up her thoughts for so long. Only the benefit of hindsight let her look at it, and she still wasn’t far enough out of it for her mind to have things completely straight.
One day she would get to the point where she would wonder how she ever could have believed what Mark told her. How she had been so thoroughly sucked in and manipulated. It was easier to see how much she’d been deceived from the outside looking in, but in the middle of it, she had succumbed. Things had seemed to make sense that now didn’t.
“You good?” Peter didn’t look up.
She heard the whir of the drone coming down the side of the house. “Just thinking.”
He landed the drone on the lid of the trunk and glanced over. “Don’t think too much. Time to work.”
He’d told her how he’d gone through a lot in his youth, and even recently. “You see the company shrink, right?”
He nodded, a blank look settling over his face. “Clare made it mandatory when she pulled us into Vanguard for community service. I picked it back up for a few sessions recently, but I needed less than I thought I did.”
“I might make an appointment.”
“It’s a good idea.”
“I lived at the Ridgeman Center in Last Chance County for a few weeks after…” She touched the scar on the side of her face. “But I think I need to pick it back up, like you did.”
Peter said, “They do premarital counseling as well, if you want.”
Roxie frowned so hard it sparked pain in her temples. “What?”
“In case.” He shrugged, a knowing look in his eyes.
“Can we break and enter into this house already?” That would be preferable to this conversation. Liam might be another topic to bring up during a counseling session. That was all for right now, as far as she was concerned.
Peter chuckled. “Just you wait.”
Roxie went to the door, but one of the guys stepped in first. They’d picked the lock on the front door half an hour ago to let the drone in, so if there had been a security system, the police would have shown up. Occasionally, Vanguard let the police know they were on an operation. Given the current climate with Liam, she’d said a prayer of thanks that they were farther out of Benson in a secluded cul-de-sac.
The guy behind her tapped her shoulder.
Roxie stepped in with the cover of someone behind her back. They searched the ground level and found a door to a basement. “Yay, I love basements.”
Peter chuckled behind her. “I can go first.”
“I’ve got it.” She headed down steep wooden stairs, one hand on the ceiling above her that was low enough she had to duck her head. “Watch your step.”
“Yep.”
She didn’t look back, just scanned the basement. An ancient washer and dryer, on top of which was a laundry basket overflowing with dark-colored clothes. “We need to search that.” She pointed at it, more interested in the shelving on the other side. Mark had a similar setup in the garage of his house.
It had never been hers, but such was the nature of their relationship. She hadn’t owned anything—not even her sense of self.
