Forte eased back from his anger a little. “I think it’d be best if she left town after tonight. Get her out of harm’s way.”
Ky studied him. “I can’t detain her. She’s the victim in this situation, and we can’t stop her from leaving, but I’d prefer if she stayed to provide any additional information to help the investigation.”
Forte set his jaw but didn’t say anything.
After a moment, Ky sighed. “I’d appreciate it if you maintained contact. Off the record, what did you see when you looked into her room?”
Ah, Ky. Good man.
“Whoever it was, they tossed her room. They weren’t looking for anything, and if they took anything, it was probably just to make it look like a robbery. But her most valuable belongings are in the kitchen.” Forte glanced through the door at Sophie, her new cat now curled in her lap. “But they went through her bedroom like a hurricane. They went out of their way to break picture frames and anything that looked like a keepsake. They wanted to upset her. Make her afraid.”
“Our forensics team will need to come and investigate the apartment.” Ky straightened and spoke at a normal volume. “It’d be good if Ms. Kim had someplace to stay for the next few nights until we can finish looking into this.”
At least the next few nights, maybe longer. Forte had the feeling this hostile was going to be somewhat harder to track down than the average thief. The local law enforcement was excellent, with good resources. But they weren’t equipped to handle the kind of people Forte, Cruz, and Rojas may have pissed off in the past year.
Forte would rather plan for the worst.
“Ask your questions.” He gestured toward the apartment and Sophie. “After tonight, she’ll be out of reach.”
*
Sophie’s tea had gone cold. It didn’t matter; she still kept her fingers wrapped around the mug. It gave her something to hold onto so her hands didn’t shake. She was honestly afraid she’d crush her new cat if she tried to hug the sweet feline at the moment.
The initial scare had been the worst. There’d been someone in her home, waiting for her. Panic had stabbed her heart, and her lungs had contracted hard, making it impossible for her to get any air.
But Brandon had been there, gently moving her to the side and putting himself between her and her potential attacker. He’d gone to face whoever it was. And he hadn’t even let Haydn go ahead of him. Watching, unable to call out or argue with him, her initial panic turned to fear for him.
And that was Brandon, damn it. He was the one to go head on into whatever was in front of him. He didn’t let anyone face those challenges with him. She was going to ask, because she wanted to understand, but right now she wanted to be mad at him.
Mad was so much better than scared. For him. For herself.
Whatever this was, it was about her and she had no idea why. The police had asked. She didn’t have any new information to give Ky. And no matter how comforting his bright smile was, she didn’t feel it.
There was something about having your home invaded. Your belongings pawed and pried into. It was going to take her a long time to go through what was in her bedroom once the police let her in there.
“Here’s a fresh mug of tea.” Brandon gently pulled the cold mug from her hands and pressed a new one into her grasp. “I brewed the tea strong, then cooled it down with a splash of cold water. It should be drinkable.”
She looked up at him. “I picked a second-floor apartment because it was supposed to be safer. Less likely to be a target for robberies because it’d be harder to get in the windows.”
The invader had gone out the window in her bedroom. Two stories hadn’t been any kind of deterrent.
Brandon set the mug on the breakfast table and kneeled down next to her. “It was a good decision. Your reasoning is sound in most cases.”
She laughed. The brittle bitterness sounded harsh even to her ears. “Most cases. But not this one.”
Brandon smoothed her hair away from her face. “No. Not this one.”
She leaned into his palm, drawing as much comfort from his steady touch as she could. His hands were rough from the work he did, but his touch was gentle, for her. “Thank you for being here.”
Even after she hadn’t believed him. Even after she’d hidden from the reality he’d wanted to prepare her for. Someone else might’ve left her to her fate.
Not Brandon.
“I’m glad I was here.” His voice had turned gruff, and there was that odd note of emotion.
She closed her eyes and tried to draw in air past the knot in her chest. It was a swirling, ever-changing mass of fear and anxiety, relief and joy in his presence. She might be going insane because the joy rose to the fore. He was here, with her, when her life depended on it. It buoyed her for a whole moment before the fear set claws into her and dragged her back into the thoughts of what could have happened.