“And we don’t know if the groundhog is gonna see his shadow on Groundhog Day, yet we’re still gettin’ out of bed.”
He shook his head.
I clenched my fists. “I’m stayin’.”
Joe cursed under his breath. “You are the most hardheaded woman I ever met.”
I gave him a tight smile. “Thank you.”
He brushed past me and started down the steps. “I’ll send someone out to dust for prints, and I’ll also set up a protective detail to sit out here at night to protect Rose.”
Fury burned my gut. “You should be settin’ that up because the Assistant District Attorney’s home was broken into, not because it happened to be Rose Gardner’s house.”
To my surprise, Joe seemed properly chastised as he turned around to face me. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He looked up at Mason. “Get a safe. And a damned alarm system.”
We watched Joe drive away, and I gave Mason a hug. “Are you okay?”
“He’s right. I’m putting you in danger by bringing my work home.”
I shook my head. “You do that so we can spend more time together. This was a random occurrence.”
“That’s just it . . . I don’t think it was.”
“Does it have something to do with whatever the DA doesn’t want you working on?”
“I don’t think so. Only a handful of people know about it.”
“So I’m going to ask you again: does this have to do with J.R.?”
He rubbed his mouth. “The file I’ve been putting together on him is still there.”
“Then we’ll do what Joe suggested. You just get a safe, and we’ll put in an alarm system.”
He shook his head. “I’m not sure that’s enough.”
“Mason, stop. If you don’t want to bring your work home, I’ll just start hanging out at your office at night. And I’ll bring Muffy to stink up the place.” I gave him a teasing grin. “I just have to figure out how to sneak her through security.”
He smiled and kissed the top of my head. “I love you.”
“I love you too, so enough of that nonsense.”
We went inside and waited for the sheriff deputy, and I couldn’t help thinking that whatever Mason and Joe were hiding reeked of J.R. Simmons, despite Mason’s instance otherwise.
Chapter Sixteen
Apparently, the Fenton County Sheriff Department took a breakin at the county ADA’s house more seriously than the Henryetta Police Department took a breakin at Rose Gardner’s house. The deputies spent a lot of time dusting for prints and looking for evidence, but nothing conclusive was found. But I did hear them murmur that they’d found something in the drawer that they’d determined didn’t belong to Mason—a pocket knife that had been used to pry open the drawer.
Mason kept trying to get me to take Muffy to Violet’s or his mom’s house, but I was sufficiently freaked out over his safety that I couldn’t bear to leave him.
The deputies did a sweep of the second floor and declared it untouched, allowing me to take Muffy upstairs instead of waiting outside in the cold. Mason followed them around like a shadow, and while they checked out the living room, dining room, and kitchen—paying particular attention to the back door, which had been busted open—they spent the majority of their time in Mason’s office.
I sat on the steps for a while with Muffy on my lap, studying Mason as he stood to the side and watched the deputies work.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out, expecting to see Neely Kate’s number. I sucked in my breath when I saw SM instead.
I set Muffy down and walked upstairs to my room—my little dog trailing behind me—and answered. “Did you find something out about Dolly Parton?”
“No, I heard about your incident.”
How had he heard already? But it had probably been on a police scanner. “Do you know who did this?”
“No. But I don’t like it.”
“Well, thanks for your concern.”
“Oh, I’m not concerned for your boyfriend. I think whoever broke into your house was looking for dirt on me . . . maybe hoping to pin the breakin on me too.”
“What?” I shook my head.
“Did they find anything there?”
“You’re asking me to feed you information about evidence, Skeeter.”
“I’m goin’ to ask you one more time: Did they find any evidence there?” He paused a second. “Like a pocket knife?’
“How’d you know?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Because I’m missing my pocket knife and my prints are all over it. It was my grandfather’s, and I carry it with me all the time. I noticed it missing two days ago. Someone close to me must have stolen it and planted it in your boyfriend’s office.”
“How do I know you didn’t break in and leave it here?”
“I’m gonna pretend the woman who accused me of being intelligent this morning isn’t asking me if I left important evidence at a crime scene.”
Crappy doodles, he was right. When I’d been attacked back in July, Mason had convinced Joe that Skeeter hadn’t been behind the attack, that he wouldn’t be sloppy. You couldn’t get much sloppier than this.