Holding Out for a Hero (Baytown Heroes #9)

Chapter 11

11

Bess swiped at her face, leaving a trail of flour and powdered sugar across her forehead. Since she was closed yesterday, she had spent most of the day at the hospital with Belinda. The doctors were pleased with her recovery, and even Bess had to admit that Belinda’s color was good. Other than the pain at the surgery sites and having to wear an arm brace to stabilize her shoulder, her sister was ready to leave. Of course, that probably had something to do with Aaron spending every moment with her. Bess had a front-row seat to the bond building between them. A tug at her heart occurred when she hoped that someday she’d stop meeting duds and find a hero for herself. Shoving that thought back into the mental box where dreams dwell, she was thrilled for her sister.

At the sound behind her, she jolted back to the tasks at hand and turned to greet her employees, Lottie and Josie, as they walked in. She’d called them the previous day, explained the situation with Belinda, calmed them down when they’d erupted in concern, and then gave them the new plan. She would come in early in the mornings to get the baking started, and they would then open at their regular time, but the shop would close early.

“Oh, honey,” Lottie exclaimed. “You’ve got to take care of yourself. If you run yourself ragged trying to take care of the bakery and Belinda, you’ll end up sick or having a nervous breakdown!”

Bess hugged the older woman. “Don’t worry about me. People are coming by to help Belinda, and since she’ll just be upstairs in her apartment, I’ll be close.” Turning back to the ovens, she added, “Once I get these pans out, then you all can take over while I run upstairs and make sure her place is ready for her to come home today.”

It didn’t take long to get the baked goodies into the display case, and then she wiped her flour-dusted hands on her dish towel. “I’m heading up. Call if you need anything before I leave for the hospital.”

With nods from both ladies, she dashed outside and through the doorway leading to the apartments. At the corridor that divided the space, she bypassed her apartment and moved to Belinda’s door. Using her spare key, she opened it and stepped inside. Their apartments were mirror images of each other, but their decorating styles differed. Belinda favored muted colors and calm patterns. Bess preferred her chaotic, colorful abode.

Closing the door behind her, she turned and gasped at the scene unfolding before her. The kitchen chairs were overturned. The kitchen drawers and cabinets were wrenched open, and their contents strewn about. Her heart pounded as anger flooded her veins. She whirled around to see that the living room looked the same. Racing into the bedroom, she found more senseless destruction where someone must have been searching for something was evident.

As she ran toward the bathroom, something underneath her feet crunched, and she looked down to see glass. Her gaze darted to the window to see where someone had entered from the fire escape. Suddenly, her pulse quickened as fear replaced the shock and anger at the realization she wasn’t sure the intruder wasn’t still in the apartment.

Now, racing back into the hallway, she ran to her apartment and, with shaky hands, managed to get her door opened. Slamming and locking it behind her, she leaned against the solid wood and tried to catch her breath. She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed 911.

“This is Bess Crowder. The apartment next to me has been broken into. It’s my sister’s. Belinda Crowder?—”

Instantly, the dispatcher acted as though she knew who Bess was talking about and made the call for services. “Someone is on their way. Are you safe?”

“Yes. I’m in my place, next door. Please let Aaron Bergstrom know.” She had the strangest desire to also ask for Brad but pressed her lips together instead. Just because he was nice enough to check on me at the hospital hardly qualifies as a reason to involve him further.

“Stay on the line, and I’ll alert the detectives.”

She walked to the window and looked down at the sidewalk and parking lot. Suddenly, remembering the bakery, she said, “I have to go. I have to tell my staff.” She disconnected and ran back downstairs and into the bakery. For once, grateful no customers were around, she shouted to Lottie and Josie. “Stay where you are. We’re closing. Belinda’s apartment was broken into, and the deputies are on their way.” She started back outside, then turned. “Lottie, can you let the deputies into the outer apartment door when they arrive?”

The first sheriff's vehicle pulled up only a few minutes later, and she hurried outside to meet them. “I’m Bess Crowder. I’m the one who called it in.”

She let them in the door, made sure Lottie was there to keep it open for anyone else, and then hurried behind the deputies as they ascended the stairs. Still shaky, she pointed at Belinda’s door. “I didn’t lock it when I left.”

The sound of more hurried and determined footsteps behind caused her to turn around. Brad. He didn’t stop until he was in her space, his gaze searching her face before darting over to where the deputies stood outside Belinda’s door and then back to her again.

She started to ask why he was there, but from the hard, tight-jawed expression on his face, she decided she didn’t care. The more, the merrier as far as she was concerned when it came to her sister’s safety.

She looked over her shoulder to see the deputies with their weapons drawn as they opened Belinda’s door. “There’s no one still inside,” she said. “I checked.”

“You what?”

Her head jerked around and up to see Brad’s focus now solely on her. Her first thought was that his beard appeared a little longer, probably from the constant activity of the past couple of days. Her second thought was the heat-inducing image of where his face had been last summer and how his beard felt between her thighs… before he turned into a jerk. But the congenial man she’d first met in a bar was gone, replaced by the image of a dragon just awakening. “Um… when I went inside, I checked each room to see what had been messed up. I didn’t see anyone?—”

“Never go inside a room where you know someone might be hiding. Jesus, Bess, that’s basic safety.”

Her hands planted on her hips, she stared up. “Well, excuse me for not following your protocol! I was in shock, not to mention upset that someone was messing with my sister’s things!”

“Where’s your apartment?”

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “There.”

“Come on. I want to check your place while they check hers.”

“My place is fine—umph.” She grunted as he placed his large hand on her stomach and gently pushed her backward.

“This isn’t your show, Bess. This is now a crime scene, and you follow my directions.”

She blinked, hating to admit his take-charge words made her lady parts take notice, but then her brain kicked in, and she gasped. “Crime scene? But my apartment isn’t?—”

“This whole area is until we find out what’s happening.”

With that pronouncement, she pressed her lips together and nodded. Turning, she walked over to her door and went inside. He followed, his large body feeling both protective and invasive all at the same time. It was easy to see her apartment was untouched, so she looked over her shoulder, expecting him to leave.

“Stay here,” he commanded in a voice that no longer caused her girly parts to giggle but caused her brain to want to stab him in the balls.

Before she could respond, he began a thorough search of her apartment, including the closets, her bedroom, and the bathroom. There wasn’t much to see, and he quickly returned to stand in front of her again.

“Stay here,” he repeated. “I’m going next door.”

“You won’t know what might have been taken,” she argued.

“I’ll come get you when we’re ready.” His gaze moved over her head, and she twisted around to see more deputies arriving, as well as Hunter Simmons.

She was familiar with Hunter’s wife, Belle, who often visited her bakery. Belle was as friendly as her husband was taciturn.

“Bess,” Brad said, his softened voice bringing her attention instantly back to him.

Looking up at him, she exhaled heavily and tightened her arms around her middle protectively. His gaze dropped to her stance, and she could have sworn his hard expression softened minusculely.

“I’m going next door. We have to process her apartment. When they’re finished, I’ll get you to go through everything to tell me what might be missing.”

She nodded. “My fingerprints will be all over her place.”

“That’s to be expected. We’ll get yours so we can know what to eliminate.”

Nodding, she sucked in another shaky breath. “I can go downstairs and have my ladies fix coffee for?—”

“No, Bess. You need to stay here and just try to relax. Aaron will get Belinda from the hospital when she’s discharged and take her to his place?—”

“No!” The shout erupted as Bess shook her head. “I want Belinda here with me. I’m taking care of her, and if she’s here, I can do that.”

“We’ll talk later, but it’s best if she isn’t here for now.”

With that, he reached out and squeezed her shoulder before he walked out. She heard his footsteps join the others in the hall and disappear into Belinda’s apartment. She stood frozen for a moment, her mind trying to shift through the tumultuous emotions and thoughts that invaded. She was used to jumping in and doing things, so she felt out of place in her own space. Walking on stiff legs, she went to her sofa and plopped down unceremoniously. Blowing out what she hoped was a cleansing breath, she pulled her phone from her pocket and called downstairs to the bakery.

“Bess! What’s happening?” Lottie asked.

“Belinda’s place was broken into and trashed. I wish I could let you go home, but I’m sure the police will want to talk to you to see if you heard anything. I’m so sorry?—”

“Stop that,” Lottie cried. “Josie and I are fine. We’re cleaning the kitchen, and we’ll prep for the morning. Just let us know if you need anything.”

Tears pricked her eyes. When she’d first opened her bakery almost a year ago, her shoestring budget was used for the best locally roasted coffee she could serve and her signature pastries. Belinda’s photography business was starting to bloom, but it was rare that she needed to be out in the early morning unless it was for taking sunrise photographs that she would sell online. Belinda offered to work the early morning hours at the bakery. Lottie was the next hire and was happy to work the full day. Josie came along next when the shop became busier, and now Belinda only worked a couple of mornings a week. Bess knew she needed to hire someone else, but with Belinda out, she would need to find someone who’d work a few hours each morning.

Dropping her chin to her chest, she sucked in another deep breath. “Thank you, Lottie,” she whispered, trying not to cry.

“Sweet Bess, don’t you worry. Belinda will be fine, and the police will figure out what the hell is going on!”

Bess barked out a small laugh. Lottie didn’t curse often, but even hearing the word hell from the older woman always made Bess smile. Disconnecting, she once more breathed deeply, then stood with purpose. Stepping back into the hall, she looked around, shocked at the number of people moving about. Uncertain what to do, she breathed easier seeing Brad’s familiar face as he walked out of Belinda’s apartment, even though his expression was still thunderous.

“What can you tell me?” she begged.

His face softened as he moved to her. “They’re still processing. Let’s go into your apartment, and I’ll get your statement.”

She nodded and walked back in, noticing Hunter came along with Brad.

“I’ve seen you around, Ms. Crowder. My wife likes to come into your shop. I’m Detective Hunter Simmons.”

“I’m from the shore and remember Belle from school, although she was several years ahead of me. It’s been lovely to become reacquainted when she comes into the shop and at American Legion Auxiliary meetings. She’s such a sweet person.”

Hunter’s smile emerged, completely changing his countenance, and she could see how Belle fell for him.

“Bess, we’d like you to walk through your steps from when you first came in. Don’t leave anything out, and don’t be afraid that something’s unimportant,” Hunter instructed.

She glanced at Brad, wondering why he wasn’t the one asking questions, but turned her focus back to Hunter. She went through everything she could remember when she came upstairs and walked into the apartment.

“You used her key and didn’t notice anything about the door?”

“I have a key to her apartment, yes. But her door was locked as always. I didn’t notice anything until I stepped inside.”

“Why didn’t you call the police immediately?” Brad asked, his scowl back in place.

Shrugging, she said, “You know when you watch a scary movie and someone always walks into a dark room and all you can think of is wanting to tell them to get out because it’s dangerous?”

Brad held her gaze but didn’t say anything.

She suddenly remembered their conversation about scary movies and wondered if he had the same thought. Continuing to blunder forward, she said, “It just didn’t hit me that someone could still be there. It was totally quiet. I wanted to see if someone had been in each room. When I was in the bedroom, I saw the broken glass from the window and realized someone had come in from the fire escape. I think that stepping on the glass and hearing the crunch jolted me out of my initial shock, and reality hit. That’s when I ran back to my apartment and called 911.”

“Besides the place being a mess, did you notice anything missing immediately?”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t focusing, but I know her place and possessions as well as my own. If you let me back in there, I can tell you if anything was taken.”

Brad looked like he wanted to deny her access, but Hunter stood and nodded. “Let’s go. The sooner you can do that, the sooner you can get out of here.”

The two detectives shared a look, but it went over Bess's head. Not wanting to waste time trying to figure out the secret man-code language, she followed Hunter out the door, aware that Brad was right behind her.