to discover if the tank was tampered with?”
Okay, not accepting that extension of grace either. She sighed. “Depends.”
“Then I’ll make a decision later.”
Ah. That made sense. If it was a direct threat to Caley, he’d want to be close in order to protect her. If it wasn’t, he might opt for a hotel farther away. That sort of stuck in her craw. But then why would he want to be near her for any other reason than to follow Wilder’s orders? Why did it matter?
Caley increased the throttle and headed back to the marina to dock, then they headed to the dive tour facility. According to them, Mary Beth hadn’t been diving with anyone other than interns and Caley. They zipped to the university and dropped off the tank with a reputable researcher in the marine biology department.
“I used my extra bag last night, so do you mind if we stop by my house so I can change?” Caley noticed how cramped Shep’s legs were in her yellow Volkswagen Beetle. She couldn’t help that.
“Sure. So you rent a house and your landlord lives with you? That’s weird.” He took off his mirrored aviator glasses, using his shirt to clean the smudges.
“Well, I rented the whole bungalow until a year ago when Miss Whittle had some health problems and couldn’t live alone anymore. Her only son lives in Montana. She won’t do the cold. He owns a ranch and wouldn’t move here—real nice guy, huh? Anyway, I offered her a room. I mean, it is technically her house. I can look after her and... I don’t know... I like it. Plus she cut my rent by more than half. She reminds me of my grandmother.”
Shep wouldn’t know the love and warmth of a grandmother. He’d never had one growing up in foster care. Her heart ached for the little boy Shepherd once was. No family. No real home. No grandparents to bake for him or dote on him.
“Do you have a single mean bone in your body, Little Flynn?”
Little Flynn. She had to get him to stop using that term. It was annoying. “I don’t care for that term just so you know.”
“Nothing wrong with being a Flynn.” His voice almost sounded covetous. Guess she couldn’t blame him. The Flynns were tight-knit. Demanding and rigid at times, sure, but they loved one another and displayed affection to show it. Dad’s hugs were almost as suffocating as Wilder’s. But she treasured them nonetheless.
“It’s not the Flynn I don’t like. It’s the Little.”
Shep sized her up. “You are little.”
“I’m not a baby.”
“You’re Wilder’s baby sister.”
She heaved an exasperated sigh. “I’m his younger sister. Difference.” She turned right at the traffic light past several tourist shops selling knickknacks, souvenirs, surfing equipment and, of course, T-shirts with Turtle Bay stamped on them.
Shep didn’t respond to her last retort, so she let it go. Besides, they were home. She pulled into the driveway and under the carport to her three-bedroom, two bath, bungalow-style home. It sported banana-yellow stucco with a bright red chimney and a welcoming white door. Palm trees surrounded the home and one stood guard at the yellow concrete stairs leading to her cozy porch.
“Welcome to my house. It’s not much but it’s home.” She put her key in the lock but the door opened. “Well, that’s odd,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“We don’t leave the doors unlocked. I mean, it’s safe here in Turtle Bay but...”
Shep guided her back a step. “I’ll go in first,” he whispered.
“Sure...okay.” Chest pounding, Caley balled her fist and rubbed it against her thigh. “Wait! Let me go. Miss Whittle may have checked the mail and forgotten. With her heart condition, your barreling in could send her into cardiac arrest.”
Shep didn’t look like he was going to let her but then he scooted over. “Just holler. Don’t go in.”
“She’s almost deaf. If she’s not wearing her hearing aids, she wouldn’t hear a train if it roared past her window.”
Heat flashed in Shep’s eyes. “Pray her heart holds up then, because you’re not going in there before me.”
She tamped down on her temper. “Fine, but holler first.”
Shep entered. “Miss Whittle!” Scuffling sounded from inside and something crashed on the tile floor. “Miss Whittle!”
Shep sprinted through the living room and into the kitchen. Caley followed and tripped over a throw pillow from the rocking chair. The house was a wreck! It mirrored Mary Beth’s dorm room. Couch cushions, books and magazines had been scattered across the living room floor. “Miss Whittle!”
Caley rushed into the kitchen. Through the window by the breakfast nook, she spotted a man dressed in dark clothes and a hoodie darting across the backyard toward the road. Shep was hot on his heels.
“Miss Whittle?” Lord, please let her be safe. Where could she be? Panic welled up in her chest.
She rounded the eating bar and gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Miss Whittle lay on the floor, blood trickling down her brow and cheek. Caley grabbed her cell phone. Déjà vu. Feeling for a pulse, she called dispatch for an ambulance and police.
There it was. Faint.
“Yes, she has a pulse, but she also has a heart condition,” she informed the dispatcher. Caley held Miss Whittle’s hand and prayed God would keep her heart working and that everything would turn out all right...even though, deep down, Caley wasn’t so sure she believed her prayers made a difference. They hadn’t protected Meghan, and Caley had prayed daily for the protection and safety of her family.
She continued to hold Miss Whittle’s hand as she fretted for Shep. Where was he? Had he caught the guy this time? Was it the same guy who broke into Mary Beth’s dorm room?
And why would he break into Caley’s place? She didn’t have anything that belonged to Mary Beth.
Once again sirens blared and first responders rushed to the house, where they took Miss Whittle’s vitals. The police arrived, but this time Officer Wilborn wasn’t on the scene. Instead, a man dressed casually caught her attention. Tall. Muscular. Caley had seen enough plainclothes officers to know this was one.
“Miss Flynn,” the man said, “I’m Detective Tom Kensington. A friend of your brother’s.”
Wilder and Shep’s contact at Turtle Bay Police Department. “Yes, of course. Thank you for coming.” First responders left with Miss Whittle to take her to Turtle Bay Hospital. As soon as Caley finished here, she’d call Miss Whittle’s son, then go to the hospital to be with her.
“Can you tell me what happened?” he asked.
They came home.
Shep chased the intruder.
No, she didn’t get a good look at him except to notice he was wearing a black hoodie. In this weather.
“I’m going to be honest with you, Caley. It’s suspicious. Two break-ins. One deceased girl. But there are no real dots to connect. I need more substantial evidence. But since you’re a Flynn and I owe Wilder a solid, I’m going to do what I can, off the books, because Turtle Bay tax dollars won’t let this dog hunt. Her death was ruled an accident and it appears to be so. As far as this isolated incident, they’ll process everything. When I hear something, I’ll let you know.”
She clutched her chest. “Thank you. Off the books is fine.” Especially after what Leo said about a potential scandal.
The kitchen door swung open and Shep trudged inside. He shook his head. “He jumped in a van about three blocks up the beach. I didn’t have time to get the plates.” He spotted Detective Kensington and grinned. “Tom.”
“Shepherd.