Rattled (3 page)

Mitchell squeezed Erin’s shoulder, causing her to wince against the pressure on her bruises. Mitchell’s gaze stayed on Drew. “Erin has been through enough today. She needs her rest. Goodbye.”

“Mitchell, really.” Erin tried to shrug off his hand. “He saved my life—”

Drew rose. “It’s all right. I’ll be on my way.” He held Erin’s gaze for a long moment. “I’m glad you’re all right.” He smiled at Camie and headed for the door, calling back over his shoulder, “I’ll see you ladies around.”

Erin sighed and looked down at her hands. “Honestly, Mitchell there was no need to be rude.”

He sat in the vacated chair. “I’m just looking out for you. And you can’t possibly believe there’s anything behind that ridiculous idea. Who would want to hurt you?”

Erin shook her head. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would. She wasn’t the type to make enemies. She worked hard and didn’t cause trouble. People were more likely to forget her name than to hold a grudge against her.

“You see?” Mitchell nodded. “He was just showing off, trying to impress you.”

That seemed equally unlikely, but Erin said nothing. Camie settled on the edge of the bed, across from Mitchell. She didn’t speak, but Erin noted the narrowing of her eyes and hoped she wouldn’t cause more trouble.

“Let’s just forget about it,” Erin said. She didn’t want to remember the details of the accident. It was horrible enough without worrying about what exactly the driver had done. Mitchell was probably right anyway. Some drunk driver had swerved and run her off the road. Maybe he’d stopped and gotten out, but then been so scared by what he’d done that he drove off. Nothing else made sense.

“Where were you going, anyway?” Mitchell asked.

“What?” Erin looked at him and tried to put aside her other thoughts. “Oh, to see Camie.”

Mitchell smiled. “Any particular reason?”

Erin frowned, trying to remember, though she couldn’t see why it mattered. Oh right, the clue. It seemed ages ago that she’d been so excited about her discovery. She tried to recapture the feeling, but it stayed out of reach.

“Do friends need a reason to see each other?” Camie drawled, sweet as honey.

“Of course not. I was just making conversation.” Mitchell turned his gaze back to Erin. He was awfully good-looking, with his sun-streaked blond hair and trim build in the well-tailored suit. Erin had been shocked at first when such a handsome man started flirting with her. But now she couldn’t help comparing his polished, professional look to Drew’s ruggedness and feeling a bit disappointed.

“Just trying to get Erin’s mind off of the accident,” Mitchell added. “So, how’s the treasure hunting? Any progress?”

Camie’s hand brushed Erin’s arm, a silent warning. Erin had talked about the treasure hunt with Mitchell, but she’d always been careful to keep specific details of her investigations secret. At the start, it has been mostly a game, as if she and Camie were little girls whispering secrets at a slumber party. She hadn’t believed it would ever matter. Then Erin had developed new theories, followed a fresh path. She knew well enough that if she was right, plenty of people would love to get their hands on the treasure. She and Camie had to keep their secrets, if they wanted to be first.

Erin gave Mitchell a smile she hoped was casual. “Oh, you know, you follow a lead and then it turns out to be nothing. But I’ll keep looking.” She held up her injured hand. “I guess I’ll have plenty of time for research while I recover.”

“Of course. Let me know if I can help. I’d enjoy seeing your research.” He leaned forward and stroked a hand down her arm. “Plus, it’s a good excuse to spend more time with you.”

She nodded. At times, she had wanted to tell Mitchell more, if only to show him that she could be interesting. She had even briefly considered inviting him to join her on the search. It would give them something to do together, forge a bond that went beyond the occasional dinner date, help her feel less awkward.

But it wasn’t just her project, it was Camie’s too. Erin might be doing the historical research, but Camie listened to her ideas and put things together. She was inventing a gadget to help them find the specific location, once Erin had the right area—a gadget to see through rock. And most important of all, she provided courage. Erin knew she would never have been able to take the hunt seriously without her friend’s encouragement. Sometimes it astonished Erin that she and Camie had become friends, when they were so different. But Camie was the best friend she had ever had, and she would never betray that. The details of the hunt were their secret. She smiled at Mitchell and wished he would go away, so she could let down her guard and rest.

Drew stood just outside the door, out of sight. He’d met enough scoundrels in his life to suspect that Mitchell was up to something. Was he really just possessive about his girlfriend and trying to protect her from worry? Drew thought he’d caught some other weird undercurrent in the room. Nothing he’d overheard since slipping out had changed his mind.

The treasure hunt intrigued him. Erin didn’t seem like the type. Of course, he’d hardly seen her at her best, lying injured in a ditch and then pale and bruised in a hospital bed. But the way she spoke, her voice soft and precise, the way she kept looking down at her hands, blushing under his gaze—it all suggested someone shy and serious. A bookworm, not an adventuress.

He couldn’t figure her out. He knew women who were rough and ready fighters, working in a man’s world and holding their own through sheer determination and guts. He could almost see Camie that way, despite her blond curls and soft curves. She’d been ferociously protective of her friend, and her movements were quick and confident.

Erin didn’t seem to fit that category. But she certainly wasn’t like the women who hung out at bars, just about the only place he met young, single women, in his line of work. Women threw themselves at him, and he knew why—he was good-looking, and he was a helicopter pilot, which automatically meant cool. He tried not to let it go to his head, and he didn’t go around breaking hearts, if he could help it. He was good at telling which women would be up for fun times with no strings attached. In his work, moving around every few months, it was safer to date women who wouldn’t put up a fuss when it came time for him to leave.

Erin was fairly young, not quite 30, he guessed. He thought she would be pretty once her scrapes healed and the exhaustion left her eyes. But he couldn’t imagine her flirting at a bar. She wore her dark hair short and tidy; her tailored T-shirt and denim shorts didn’t reveal much of the slim build underneath. She almost reminded Drew of the practical, middle-aged women who ran most of the company offices where he’d worked. The ones who knew every minute of the schedule and never made a mistake, yet didn’t seem to notice that they were underpaid and underappreciated. And yet, Erin didn’t quite fit that category either.

Drew shook his head. Why was he getting caught up in this? Of course he was interested in her welfare; after rescuing somebody, you wanted to make sure they really were okay, and if they were a great person who would go on to live a productive life, so much the better. Even when he was called on for search and rescue flights, he got interested in the victims. And when he had to retrieve a body, he felt a pang of regret for the person’s lost future and for the grieving family and friends.

But seeing Erin hadn’t sated his curiosity. It comforted him to know she wasn’t badly injured, but he still felt oddly protective. He didn’t like that. It was safer not to get involved.

He shook his head again, trying to tell himself it was just how pale and fragile she looked, and it didn’t matter—she had Camie to look after her. And that guy, for whatever he was worth.

The man was still asking questions about the treasure hunt, and the women were still dodging. It was funny how clear you could read between the lines when you only listened to the voices and didn’t see the faces.

“All right, that’s enough chatter,” Camie said. “Erin needs her rest.”

“Of course.” After a moment, Mitchell added, “Why don’t you take off, and I’ll sit here with her until she falls asleep.”

Drew could picture the fire in Camie’s eyes as she growled, “I’m not going anywhere until I can take Erin with me.”

Drew grinned. Now that was a friend worth having. He heard the chair scrape and Mitchell grumbling, so he slipped away down the hall.

Erin submitted to pokes and prods from the medical staff until finally they declared her fit enough to go home. When they returned her belongings, she told them they could throw away the ripped and stained shorts and T-shirt—she didn’t want to see them again. The sight of her waist pack brought a vague anxiety. She fumbled through it and found her wallet intact, complete with money and credit card, plus her keys, phone, and odds and ends like lip balm. She told herself she’d just felt nervous having it out of her sight for so long. If she still felt uneasy, it was probably the painkillers and the headache they couldn’t quite hide.

Twenty minutes later, Camie pulled her Jeep into Erin’s driveway. Erin gazed at her cute little two-story house and smiled. One of the advantages of small-town living was being able to afford a whole house all by herself. It might be a rental, but at that moment it felt like home. She wanted nothing more than to stagger upstairs and collapse in bed, safe and cozy, and forget about her aches for a while.

Camie opened her car door and then glanced back at Erin. “You need help?”

Erin sighed. “No. I just need the energy to move.” She reached for her seatbelt, wincing when the finger brace smacked the clip. She switched to her left hand and fumbled with the belt, then reached across her body to open the door. She had to injure her dominant hand, of course. She let herself out of the Jeep slowly, trying not to jar her aching body.

Camie rounded the Jeep and stayed by Erin’s side as they went up the walk. “Home,” Erin whispered as she dragged herself up the three steps to the porch.

Camie dug Erin’s key out of her waist pack and unlocked the door. She pushed it open with a grin. “Your castle, my lady.”

Erin took two steps through the doorway, glanced left into the living room, and froze. A pile of sofa pillows half hid the overturned coffee table. Soggy flowers lay in a mess of glass shards from a shattered vase. The little pictures and knickknacks from the fireplace mantel had been scattered across the floor.

Erin spun toward her office, to the right of the front door. Her vision blurred from the quick move and she staggered until she could grab onto the door frame. She blinked back tears as the room came into focus. Books had been pulled from the shelves, her desk drawers pulled out and emptied, the contents of her file cabinet dumped in a pile. The room was a mess except for the top of her desk, which was unnaturally empty.

Erin moaned and leaned against the door frame. Her house had been ransacked and her computer stolen.

Erin sat on the porch steps, trying to tune out the faint sounds in the house behind her. She’d made no protest when Camie had dragged her outside and called the police. Her mind felt too tired to handle any more. Finally Camie came out. “Come on in now. It’s safe, if messy.”

Erin rose stiffly. She felt like an old woman as she made her way into the house that no longer felt quite so much like home. The police officer was taking photos in her office. Camie led Erin to the living room and replaced the couch cushions so they could sit.

“The good news,” Camie said, “is that the upstairs isn’t nearly so bad.”

Erin just nodded.

“I’m going to make a pot of tea,” Camie said. She flipped the coffee table upright and left the room.

Erin leaned back and closed her eyes, refusing to look at the mess around her. Later she would have to clean up everything, would probably cry over the little treasures that lay broken. They were just things, she knew that, but some had been gifts, and all held memories. When she was stronger, she would deal with it all. But not yet.

Camie came back with a tray full of tea things. Erin felt a sudden surge of relief at seeing the pretty china pot she had inherited from her grandmother, still in one piece. Camie put the tray on the coffee table, knelt on the floor across from Erin, and handed her a mug. Erin wrapped her hands around it and sipped, savoring the warmth. It had to be 75 degrees outside, but still she felt chilled.

The police officer came in and sat at the other end of the sofa. He shook his head at Camie’s offer of tea, though his gaze lingered on her before he turned to Erin. “I understand you were gone all night, in the hospital.”

“That’s right.” Erin’s stomach clenched as she looked at the officer. He looked strong and capable, and she knew he was on her side, but seeing a police uniform in her living room felt wrong. It made the burglary more real.

“Your friend helped identify some of the things missing,” he said. Erin wasn’t so out of it that she missed the admiring look he gave Camie. “I don’t want to tire you out after your accident, but if you discover anything else missing, let us know.”

Erin nodded. “I can’t take it in right now. Maybe in a day or two.”

“Take your time. I’ll be honest with you, it’s unlikely that we’ll recover anything or catch the thieves, unless they do something stupid—which does happen. But unless they do, we just don’t have any useful clues.”