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"Well, you should know you can call me Kade," he drawled. "And you should know your mother trusted me."
"Maybe she made a mistake," Dani said.
"Dani, please," I interrupted. "Everything will be fine. Kade is trying to help. And he knows Mom's house better than either of us. I need him to look around with me."
"Fine. I give up," Dani said. "I'll go, but you take care of this, Brynn, and then you go to a hotel and call me from there. I want a photo of your room."
"Got it. Drive carefully and text me when you get home."
I walked with her to her car. She paused before getting inside. "I know you like to believe the best in people, Brynn, but you don't know that man. Kade Beckham could be anyone. He could have an ulterior motive for helping you. You don't know a thing about Mom's life or the people in it. You can't trust anyone."
"I understand what you're saying, but sometimes you have to take a chance, and I think Kade is okay. He's normal."
"He's a crazy, dark artist. I doubt he's anything close to normal."
"Even if you can't trust him, you can trust me. Drive safe." I gave her a long hug and then stepped away as she closed the door and started the engine.
After she pulled out of the driveway, I walked back up the steps. Kade was waiting by the front door. He gave me a grim look.
"What?" I asked, not liking his expression.
"I just took a look inside. You're not going to like what happened in there."
"I haven't liked anything that's happened in the past twenty-four hours, so I'm ready."
"I doubt that."
He was right. When I stepped into the house and saw the ruthless destruction, I felt completely overwhelmed. There was a part of me that wanted to run outside, jump in my car, and follow Dani back to Carmel.
"It's not too late to leave," Kade said, drawing my gaze to his.
I thought about that. "It is too late. It was too late yesterday when I saw my mother for the first time in twenty years. This is an awful, terrifying mess, but I can't run away from it."
CHAPTERTEN
As soon asI saw the destruction in the living room, I wanted to change my mind and run away as fast as possible. The cushions on the couch had been slashed with a knife and tossed to the floor. Pictures had been ripped off the walls. It looked like someone had put a sledgehammer through various sections of the walls. "Why would they do this?" I murmured.
"I'm guessing they thought there might be a safe hidden in the walls."
"Or something hidden in the couch cushions. But what would that be?"
"No idea." He pulled out his phone. "I'll call a locksmith. I'll have my locks changed, too, just to be on the safe side. I don't want my place to end up like this." He stopped, frowned, and then hurried down the hall.
I ran after him. The family room was as bad as the living room. And Kade's beautiful, dark, troubling painting was face-down on the ground. He walked over to pick it up.
I let out a breath when I saw that the canvas was intact. "Thank God, it wasn't slashed," I said.
Kade's lips were hard and tight, the pulse in his jaw beating fast. He nodded and then put the painting back on the wall, covering up the broken drywall.
"I'll make some calls," he said, a rough edge to his voice. He walked out the kitchen door to the back deck.
Looking through the window, I saw him brace his hands on the railing and take several deep breaths before looking at his phone. He'd certainly had a powerful reaction to the possibility of his painting being damaged. I guess I could understand that. It was his art. It was a piece of him. But it also seemed a little extreme.
Dani's warning not to trust Kade rang through my head. But I couldn't distrust him because he cared about his art.
I looked away from the window and saw the violin sticking out from under the sofa. My heart leapt into my throat. I squatted down and pulled the instrument out with trepidation, expecting to find it in pieces, but it was intact. I felt immensely relieved.
Pressing the violin to my chest, I closed my eyes, imagining my mother playing it, hearing the melody in my head, feeling my only real connection to her. There was so much chaos all around me, but in this moment, I could feel a measure of peace. I opened my eyes and put the violin on the coffee table, realizing I'd just had the same reaction to the violin that Kade had had to his painting. It wasn't just the violin I'd been reacting to, but what it represented, the connection to my mother.
