It’s so worn, it’s almost unrecognizable, but it’s a beloved stuffed animal that’s probably been with her since she was very young. How did she manage to keep it? It was obviously important enough that she didn’t leave it behind when she escaped her husband.
I add the small brown bear to her duffel and zip it, turning to find Cannon wrapping things up.
He sighs. “I lifted every print I could from the door, the knob, the counter, and the computer. I even did the sink faucet and the bathroom knob and surfaces. I suspect most of them are hers.”
“A few will be mine. I was here last night. I didn’t use the bathroom, but I touched the doorknob on both sides as well as the sink.”
Cannon nods. “I can certainly identify yours back at the office. I can identify hers in the obvious ways—either nefariously by pulling her prints from your apartment or intentionally if you’re interested in telling her directly that we need her prints. If you don’t like either option, we can surmise by the size which ones are female and assume the person or people who broke in were male.”
“I’ll tell her. I just didn’t want to inform her about any of this over the phone. Plus, she’s sleeping. When I get back, I’ll talk to her. I know she’ll be upset, but I’m certain she’ll agree to let me get her prints.”
“Perfect. I’ll head back and work on this. Let me know when you have hers, and I’ll run up and get them from you.”
“Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
Cannon nods. “I’ll talk to Colton, too. Maybe he can do some digging and ensure this break-in doesn’t have anything to do with the attack on June and Simone.”
I rub my jaw. “Yes, that’s kind of important. I don’t want the police to find out we’re involved in this, of course. It’ll be tidier in the long run if they never know. It seems unlikely because though the media splashed Simone’s and June’s faces all over the fucking planet, they did not name them. June’s ex would have recognized her and been able to use that information to figure out which apartment was hers. The gang of assholes involved in the women’s attacks do not know their names. At least, as far as we assume.”
“Agreed.”
I blow out a breath. “Still probably a good idea to have Colton do some snooping with the force if he can.” Colton used to be a police officer, so he has some clout with the station and sometimes pulls strings for us.
Cannon lifts his equipment bag onto his shoulder. “Anytime. You know that. And, Blade, I’m fucking happy for you.”
I smile. “It was unexpected, but I’m fucking pleased, too.” I glance at the kitchen table, wondering if I should bring June’s computer, but it’s not there.
Cannon points toward his bag. “I bagged it. Is that okay?”
“Yes. I’m sure Mace has a computer lying around that I can borrow for June so she can teach her class tonight. Hopefully, everything she needs is in a cloud and she doesn’t need that particular one to log in to teach.”
“Let me know if it’s a problem. I can process this computer quickly if June needs it back. I just wanted to be certain we didn’t need to do a second print pull before I touched it.”
“I’ll let you know.”
I open the door cautiously and peer around the hallway before we exit and lock up. “She’s not going to like this,” I mutter.
“Who would?”
Nine
June
* * *
I’ve been awake for about ten minutes when I hear the door open and close. I would push to sitting, but it’s too much work. Even though I slept hard, I still feel heavy and tired.
“Hey, honey…” Blade has one of my duffel bags slung over his shoulder, and he sets it on the floor near the dresser before coming to me. “Did I wake you?”
“No. I woke up a few minutes ago. You were gone a long time.” I’ve seen the clock. He’s been gone a little over three hours. I didn’t expect him to be away that long.
He sits on the edge of the bed. The first thing he does is rest the back of his hand on my forehead and frown. “You’re flushed. Do you feel okay?”
“I hurt all over, but I don’t feel sick if that’s what you mean.”
“Maybe you just got too warm under the covers.” He busies himself fussing over me, pulling the comforter away and leaving me under just the sheet.
My hackles rise. “Blade…”
