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“Thanks, Rhy.” Steele nudged her forward. “Sorry to bring danger to the homestead.”
“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.” Rhy smiled at her. “Ms. Crane, I’m Rhyland Finnegan. That’s my wife, Devon, and our daughter, Colleen.”
She’d noticed the pretty dark-haired woman sitting on the sofa, cradling a baby in her arms. Seeing the young infant made her realize why Steele had apologized for bringing danger to their doorstep. “It’s nice to meet you, please call me Harper.” She frowned, then added, “We shouldn’t stay. I didn’t realize you had a young baby here.”
“We won’t be here long,” Steele said. “And we found that tracker in your shoe, so we should be in the clear.”
“In her shoe?” Rhy’s brow arched. “That’s a weird spot to plant one.”
“Tell me about it.” Steele frowned. “There may have been one in her purse too. We didn’t bother to check, just left it behind with the shoes. And her coat for extra measure. The running shoes she’s wearing are new, as is the sweatshirt.”
“That’s good,” Rhy agreed.
She tried not to gape at the beautiful interior of the Finnegan home. It was huge, bigger than any other house she’d ever seen. She wished she could sit beside Devon to talk about pregnancy and babies. She hadn’t had the ability to talk to other young mothers since her last church meeting.
“Come sit beside me, Harper.” As if reading her mind, Devon patted the sofa. “Looks like you need to get off your feet for a while.”
“Thanks.” She sat on the edge. “Colleen is beautiful. How old is she?”
“She’ll be three months old in another week.” Devon smiled. “We have been blessed with a wonderful baby. She doesn’t quite sleep through the night, but she’s made it five hours, which is amazing.”
It was hard for Harper to take her eyes off the baby. It was all too easy to imagine holding her own child the same way.
“Harper?” Rhy’s voice drew her attention. “Can you help us understand how anyone was able to get into your apartment to plant the tracking device in your shoe?”
She frowned. “I have no idea. I can’t stand knowing someone had been in my apartment when I wasn’t there.”
“Tell us about your routine,” Steele suggested. “Other than working Monday through Friday at the law office.”
“I often work from home on Fridays,” she corrected. “And I grocery shop on Saturday mornings and attend church on Sunday. Sometimes I attend church meetings after our services, but lately I’ve been too tired.”
“So anyone watching you for a week or two would know when it was safe to sneak inside,” Rhy said.
“Without a key?” She found that difficult to believe. “How would anyone get in?”
“Many of those older buildings aren’t as secure as they should be,” Steele said. “I’ve seen your eight-family building from the outside. I don’t think it would take much effort to gain access to your apartment.”
That was a horrifying thought. Yet there also wasn’t much she could do about it. She couldn’t afford to move. For all she knew, she might not have a job once this mess was over.
Not that Trent Gibson would be cavalier about letting her go. But she needed to get back to work as soon as possible.
“This makes me wonder if my clothes have devices sewn into them.” She looked down. “Although I’m only wearing my own slacks at this point.”
“You know, I have plenty of maternity clothes. We’re about the same size,” Devon said. “Rhy, hold the baby, will you? Harper, come with me. We’ll get you set up with more comfortable clothes in no time.”
“Oh, really, that’s not necessary,” she protested.
“Yes, it is. Please let me help.” Devon smiled. “I want you to feel comfortable.”
“Okay.” She gave in, partially because it seemed rude to keep refusing. And because she genuinely liked Devon. “Thank you.”
The second floor was full of bedrooms and bathrooms. Devon pulled out several maternity outfits, and there was one in particular in cream and green colors that looked soft and warm. When Harper ducked into the master bathroom, she checked her underwear for anything unusual but didn’t find anything. After changing into the borrowed clothes, she instantly felt better. Maybe it was psychological, shedding her dress maternity slacks for something nicer. Or maybe it was just being the recipient of Devon’s kindness.
Tears pricked her eyelids, and she grabbed a tissue. Her hormones were completely out of whack these days. She’d never been a crier until recently. Time to pull herself together. She stepped out of the bathroom. “Thanks, Devon. This is sweet of you.”
“You look adorable.” Devon smiled. “I’m happy to help. Do you want another change of clothes for the road?”
“No, this is fine.” She wouldn’t be greedy. “Thanks so much. I thought the large sweatshirt would be fine, but it didn’t really fit right.”
