When Silence Falls. Shirlee McCoy
looked frustrated and angry, his mouth set in a firm line.
Grayson looked just as angry and just as frustrated. Jaw lined with dark stubble, his short hair slightly mussed, he was as close to unkempt as Piper had ever seen him. He looked up as Piper approached, some of the anger seeping from his gaze. “Coffee. Just what I needed.”
Piper grabbed a cup and handed it to him. “Why don’t you take it to go? You look like you’ve had a long day.”
“I have. But I’m not going anywhere until I hear what Jake plans to do to keep you safe.”
“What do you expect him to do? Put a guard on me twenty-four hours a day?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“You know that isn’t possible, Gray.” Jake’s words were calm, with just an undertone of irritation. Obviously, they’d been discussing this while Piper was in the kitchen.
“Possible or not, it’s what I want.”
“And I wish I could give it to you, but I can’t. We don’t have enough evidence that Piper’s in danger to justify the manpower.”
“Evidence? She got knocked around at that weight-loss class. Now someone’s tried to break into her house—”
“If he’d wanted to get into the house he would have. Old single-pane glass. Flimsy doors. It wouldn’t take much effort to get inside,” Cade said, his words interrupting the argument. Piper was sure he’d planned it that way.
She glanced at the door and windows, pictured a masked person breaking in, and shivered.
Grayson nodded. “I think you should come stay with me for a while.”
“You’ve got a one bedroom condo. I’d be sleeping in the living room, and I’d have to come back here to teach piano lessons.”
“Then I’ll stay here.”
“Gray, I’ll be fine.”
“Maybe. But your brother’s right to be worried about you,” Cade said, his gaze traveling the room, touching on the windows and the front door. “You don’t have a security system, do you?”
“No, I never thought—”
“A dog’s a better idea, anyway.” Grayson stood and began pacing the room.
“A dog?”
“Sure. They’re more effective than a security system when it comes to scaring people away.”
“I don’t think a dog will fit my lifestyle.”
“One of my men brought a German shepherd to the SPCA a few days ago,” Jake added, completely ignoring Piper’s protest. “Female. Maybe two years old. She was wandering around near the lake. If she hasn’t been claimed she’d be perfect.”
“Why don’t I pick you up after work tomorrow? We can go to the SPCA, see if the shepherd’s still there.” Grayson paused, his brow furrowed. “Wait. I can’t. I’ve got a dinner meeting.”
“That’s all right. I’ll go myself.” Maybe. Though as far as Piper was concerned, Grayson’s unavailability was the perfect excuse to not get a dog.
“Do you know anything about dogs?” Cade’s question caught her off guard, and she shook her head, recognizing the mistake immediately.
She tried to backtrack, think of a good reason why she’d be capable of picking out the perfect guard dog, but came up blank. “I’m sure someone at the shelter will be able to help me.”
Apparently Cade wasn’t. He leaned forward, his steady, reassuring gaze almost masking the humor that danced in his eyes. “Maybe it would be a good idea for one of us to go with you.”
“I wouldn’t want to put anyone out.”
“You wouldn’t be. I’m doing a photo shoot at the new medical clinic tomorrow. It’s ten minutes away. Why don’t I stop by when I’m finished? We’ll go to the shelter together.”
“I’m giving a final exam tomorrow. I can’t be out.”
“It’s your early day isn’t it, Piper?” Grayson knew it was. Just as he knew she wasn’t gung ho about the dog idea. Of course, being Grayson, he focused on the part that coincided with his plans and completely ignored the rest.
“Yes, but I’m not sure—”
“Then it’s settled.” Cade set his coffee cup down on the tray and pulled a business card from his pocket, flashing his dimple and acting like he had no idea Piper would rather not go to the shelter. “Here’s my card, Piper. Call if something comes up. Otherwise I’ll be here at two. I’d better get back on patrol.” He stepped past Grayson and disappeared into the darkness. Jake followed close on his heels.
“I’m staying the night, and don’t even bother trying to talk me out of it,” Grayson said as he stepped out onto the front stoop. “I need to talk to Jake. I’ve got the key. Lock the door. I’ll let myself in when we’re finished.” With that, he was gone, too.
Which left Piper alone, wondering how she’d allowed herself to be railroaded into a trip to the SPCA.
“Men. Can’t live with ’em. The end.”
She grumbled the words to herself as she snagged a cookie and marched to the linen closet. She was half tempted to make Grayson sleep on the sofa, but since it was only a little longer than a love seat and he was just over six feet tall, Piper thought that would be cruel and unusual punishment.
The curtains in her room were open and she hurried over to close them, her gaze drawn to the branches that swayed in the breeze outside the window. If someone was outside watching the house, watching her, she’d never know it. Not until it was too late.
Maybe a dog wasn’t such a bad idea.
She shook her head. No way. Dogs were messy and they stunk. She did not want a dog. Then again, she wasn’t sure she liked the idea of being alone in the house with a snake-tattooed kidnapper holding a grudge against her. She knew she didn’t like the idea of Gray sacking out in her house every night. She loved her brother, but he was overprotective and bossy. One night was about all she could take of him.
She tugged fresh sheets onto her bed, her mind racing with a million thoughts, a million worries. She had a lot to do in the next few months. A book to write. Piano lessons to teach. Finals needed to be administered and graded. She had to plan and practice the music for church. Make sure the collection of musical antiques she’d inherited were catalogued, appraised and ready to go on loan to the Lynchburg Museum of Fine Arts. And she’d offered to help Miriam plan the exhibit’s grand opening to coincide with Music Maker’s twenty-fifth anniversary.
What had she been thinking?
She hadn’t been thinking. That was the problem. She’d been asked and she’d said yes. At the time, she’d really thought she could do it. Now, she wondered if what she’d thought she could do was a little more than what she was capable of.
A few weeks ago Gray had accused her of having superwoman syndrome. Had he been right? Did she think she could do everything? Accomplish everything? Did she jump into things without thinking them through? Maybe sometimes. But not now. Now she was thinking. And what she was thinking was that she definitely didn’t need a dog complicating her life. She’d call Cade tomorrow and tell him she wasn’t going to the SPCA. That would take care of at least one of the problems. Everything else would work out in its time. She hoped.
As Piper finished making the bed, she had the sinking feeling that that wouldn’t be the case, that maybe tonight’s troubles were only the beginning. She shivered, grabbed the quilt off the end of her bed and walked back out into the living room. Huddled on the sofa, gaze fixed on the door, she could only pray that she was wrong.
FOUR
A