I invited Jane to come home with me, but she chose to spend the night alone in one of the unoccupied suites down the hall. Eric allowed her to grab only her nightgown and toothbrush from her suite. That was it.
The following afternoon, Eric gave the okay for me to return to Jane’s rooms and help her begin putting her things back in order. When I walked into her suite, I was dismayed to see almost nothing had been put away yet. And even worse, every surface was covered in that nasty black powder residue.
Jane was in the sitting room, standing by the entry to her bedroom. She looked up when I walked in and I was shocked by how pale and vulnerable she appeared.
“Oh, honey,” I murmured, and ran to give her a hug.
“Shannon.” She was shaking and I wanted to kill whoever had done this to her.
Something had occurred to me when I couldn’t fall asleep the night before. How had the intruder known that Jane wasn’t home last evening? Had he been watching the place? Or staying there? Had he been following her?
It was too soon after the break-in to mention my thoughts to Jane, but I intended to talk to Eric and Mac about them.
Jane was able to steady her nerves enough to start putting her rooms back together. I was in charge of wiping away that damn sticky fingerprint residue off the tables and shelves. Jane was in charge of putting her books and knickknacks and clothes back in their proper places. We’d been working for almost an hour when Althea rushed in, out of breath. “I came as soon as I heard. I can’t believe it. I want to help.”
Jane gaped at her. “You heard about my break-in all the way down in Blue Point?”
“Yes.” She tossed her bag and her sweater on the carpeted floor behind the door. “I have a number of customers from Lighthouse Cove. One of them was in this morning and told me about it.” She surveyed the mess. “How awful. You poor baby. What can I do to help?”
“Nobody was hurt,” Jane said, giving her a half smile. “I can’t even tell if anything was taken, so I refuse to wail and gnash my teeth. We’ll just clean up the mess and move forward.”
Althea walked over and gave her a crushing hug. “You are impossibly brave and sweet. Not everyone would be able to go through something as awful as this and still be smiling.”
“I’m faking the smile,” Jane said with a shrug. “But I’m okay. I was pretty upset last night, but this morning I woke up determined to snap out of it and just do what needs to be done.”
“Good,” Althea said, saluting her. “Let’s get to it.”
It was fun having Althea around. She kept up a steady, light conversation and two hours slipped by before I noticed. The easy chatting helped Jane relax a little, too.
“Well, this doesn’t look too bad.”
I glanced up. Stephen Darby and his father stood in the doorway, wide-eyed, watching us work.
“Hello, Ned,” Jane said, and walked across the room to give him a peck on his pale cheek. “It’s so good to see you. How’s Bob doing?”
“No change.” He shook his head. “He’s still in a coma, but they say his vital signs are good, so who knows? He could pull out of it.”
“I’m going to hope and pray that he does,” she said.
“I appreciate it. I already lost Jesse,” he said wistfully. “If I lose Bob, I’ll be one lonesome cowboy.”
He really did look as though he’d lost his best friend. I said a silent prayer for Bob to wake up soon.
Eric walked into the room just then and looked around until he found Jane. “How’re you doing?”
If I hadn’t been looking toward the door, I would’ve missed Stephen’s reaction when Eric strolled in obviously in charge. The man flinched visibly. Was he just caught off guard or did he have something to fear from the cops?
It seemed that Eric noticed as well. He expanded his chest and stared at Stephen for a good, long moment while Stephen pretended to be invisible.
“I’m going to be fine,” Jane said, oblivious of the little drama. She stood up and gestured at me and Althea. “I have lots of great help, as you can see.”
“Anything missing?” he asked, walking with Jane into the bedroom to speak privately.
I already knew the answer. Jane hadn’t found anything missing. All of her important financial documents and legal papers had been placed inside her new safe-deposit box. Her jewelry had been tossed around, but nothing appeared to have been taken, thank goodness. I knew she owned some expensive pieces that her grandmother had given her.
Something occurred to me and I looked up at Ned. “Has Bob had diabetes for a long time?”
“Long as I’ve known him. He tests his blood and gives himself a shot every morning like clockwork.” He sent Stephen a queasy look. “Not sure I could do that myself.”
“You could do it if you knew it would save your life,” Stephen said, rubbing his dad’s arm affectionately.
Despite my wariness, Stephen was a decent son to Ned. The two got along well and Stephen appeared to be taking good care of his dad—even if he wasn’t eager to live in the same house with him.