“That sounds more like theft.”
“Except they didn’t steal it. They dumped it on site. And they smashed the windows on the office side, knocked over the portable johns, which created a sickening mess, and spray-painted the walls with...I’ll just say...unfriendly messages.”
“Geared toward who or what?”
“‘Keep your crazies in the lower forty-eight,’ that sort of thing, only with slightly more explicit language.”
“So it was directed at me.”
“Since one word began with a ‘C’ and was used repeatedly, I can only assume whoever did this wasn’t directing their remarks to the men involved in this project.”
“I see.” She rubbed her arms, feeling chilled even though it wasn’t cold. Some of the people in Hilltop were leery about the kind of facility she was building in their backyard, but it was primarily Sergeant Amarok who’d revealed express opposition. Did that mean anything here? It certainly jumped out at her right away. He’d lobbied against the prison—quite vocally—until the mayor and a handful of other key citizens managed to convince him to back off for the sake of the jobs Hanover House would create.
At that point, Amarok had gone silent, as if he’d considered himself outvoted, but Evelyn wasn’t under the illusion that he’d changed his mind. He didn’t want her in his town. He scowled if they ever happened to bump into each other, or had occasion to attend the same meeting—and there’d been several instances when she’d found it necessary to sit down with the mayor and the city council, as well as various prominent Hilltop “influencers.”
Once, when she’d gone to eat at the local diner, Amarok had been there too. She’d thought he might approach her, as a professional courtesy if nothing else, but he hadn’t. He’d remained in his own booth, watching her as if he didn’t trust her a whole lot more than she trusted the psychopaths she studied.
“Do you have any idea who might’ve done it?” She wondered how much it was going to cost, and if this would mean they’d have to delay the opening. That certainly wouldn’t help her new venture get off to a smooth start.
“’Fraid not.”
She was trying to decide if he was taking any pleasure from this unfortunate occurrence, but that wasn’t easy to determine over the phone. “Interesting...”
“Why would it be ‘interesting’ as opposed to some other word?” he asked.
“Because the only person I can name who hasn’t been excited about the benefits of having such a tremendous influx of federal money injected into the local economy is...” She caught herself before she could actually accuse him. She was reacting to the sting of rejection she felt as a result of that graffiti, and the fact that she didn’t want someone she was attracted to knowing—or telling her—that she wasn’t wanted. It wasn’t often she experienced the kind of sexual awareness Amarok evoked. At least 6’2”, with broad-shoulders, a muscular build, thick black hair and the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen, he was beyond handsome. All he had to do was look at her to make her weak in the knees. But she had no romantic notions where he was concerned. She hadn’t had sex with a man, with anyone, since Jasper. He’d ruined her in that way, made it impossible for her to overcome the memory of his abuse long enough to become intimate.
Besides, if she had to guess, she’d say Amarok was only twenty-seven or twenty-eight. That meant he was nearly ten years her junior, which made even dating him unlikely.
“Because the only person you know who isn’t excited you’re coming to town is...” he prompted.
She could tell he wasn’t fooled, that he knew exactly what she’d been about to say. “Never mind. Are you-are you going to look into it? Will you try to find those responsible?”
“Of course.” He sounded offended that she’d even ask. “Whether I’m excited to have Hanover House as my new neighbor or not, it’s my job to protect it now that it’s here. I’m calling you to suggest you get some security, though. It’s a miracle whoever trashed the place didn’t take that copper.”
Suddenly far more fatigued than she’d been a moment earlier, she rubbed her face in spite of her makeup. “Since they left it, I’m guessing they were trying to make trouble, not money.” And if the press printed something about it, maybe they would be successful. Sometimes it only took a spark to start a firestorm, which was why she’d been so worried that what Hugo had done would reach the media.
That could still happen, and now she had to worry about this too. But she’d known, when she first set out to establish Hanover House, that it wouldn’t be an easy undertaking.