Page 128 of Noel Secrets

“It looks like the dog bit the intruder. I’ll swab his teeth and hopefully get some human DNA.”

“Will that hurt him?” Mia asked him.

“Absolutely not. We have a crime-scene crew inside, gathering prints and any blood DNA. After they’re done, the police will tell you when you can go in.” Mia held Bandit, her arms shaking, while the officer swabbed him then hurried off.

The paramedic cleaned the wound then placed a bandage on Darby’s cheek. “All done.”

Darby hopped down from the ambulance and turned to Mia. “I’m so sorry for this.”

Mia gave her a gracious smile then hugged her. “This isn’t your fault, Darby. I’m just sorry it happened while you were here. He must have been trying to rob the house, and you interrupted him.”

That wasn’t what happened, but Darby didn’t correct her. Something about admitting someone was trying to kill her and she’d brought that drama to her client’s home didn’t seem right.

But Mia would learn the truth eventually, since the police had made a report. She had to do the right thing.

“You’ll likely hear this from the police, but I believe the man who broke in was after me. Yesterday, someone abducted me from my home. I assume he saw me here and tried to grab me. The intruder wasn’t looking for jewelry or electronics. He was after me.”

“You knew you were in danger, and you still came?” Mia frowned, her eyes narrowing as her tone changed from concern to bitterness. “You brought this danger into my home?”

She recoiled at Mia’s anger then scrambled to explain. “I’m sorry. Trudy’s mother had an accident, and I couldn’t find anyone else to cover for her. I had to do the job.”

Mia glanced at her house, its bullet holes in the windows and the police on her lawn and shook her head, her lips pursed and her face firm. “There’s no excuse for this, Darby. I’m sorry, but I can’t let this go. What if my children had been home? What if I had been home? You’ve placed us all in danger. I won’t allow that to happen again. I don’t need your services any longer.”

Tears pressed against Darby’s eyes. She wasn’t surprised by Mia’s reaction, but she’d hoped for a little grace. Only, Mia wasn’t wrong. Mia had a nine-month-old and a four-year-old who attended pre-K in the mornings. How would Darby feel if she and the kids had been home when this man had broken in? If someone had been injured or killed, it would have been her fault.

Not only that, but Mia would share her story, which would hurt Darby’s business. She couldn’t afford another hit to her reputation.

Could this day get worse?

She glanced up and saw Suzanne, standing outside the police line, phone in hand, a big smile on her face.

Whether she took pictures or made a video, it wouldn’t turn out well for Darby.

He hadn’t been quick enough.

Guilt flooded Clay as he finished his conversation with the officers. The dog had saved the day while he’d nearly been too late.

The Sheraton police officers seemed reluctant to share the details of the case with him. Understandable, since they didn’t know he was FBI, and he wasn’t ready to give that away. But he’d seen enough to know this had been a serious attack.

He let Cooper know what had happened then returned to Darby. She stood alone by the ambulance, arms crossed tight against her chest, hands trembling. Her jaw was set, but her eyes—those defiant, glassy with unshed tears eyes—betrayed the fear she tried to bury. The homeowner’s accusations had hit hard, and Clay hated that Darby got hit with fallout from a situation he should’ve prevented.

His throat tightened. He hadn’t failed this bad since Denton. And that failure had cost lives.

Not this time.

Darby looked up as he approached her. “Can we go now?” Her voice sounded steady, but just barely.

He stepped closer, touched her arm gently. She didn’t pull away. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

He glanced at her van, boxed in by police cruisers. “I can drive you home. Ask one of the officers to return the van later.”

“No.” She shook her head, jaw stiff. “I don’t want it sitting here any longer than it has to. It’s already bad enough. My name is on that van, and if someone posts a picture of it …” She pulledthe keys from her pocket. “I need to go before the vultures show up.”

Clay scanned the street. No news vans yet, but the crowd beyond the tape swelled by the minute. He nodded. “I’ll talk to the officer in charge.”

After a quick check, the cops cleared the van, and Clay returned to find Darby already behind the wheel. She gripped it as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

He followed her home, tension tightening with every mile. Vulnerable, exposed—she still drove, still pushed forward, still did ask for help. She was tough, but tough didn’t mean unbreakable.