Page 35 of Valor (Long Hot Summer: Christian Romantic Suspense #2)

GIBSON

“This is what you called me in for?” I demand as I glare at the broken window of the diner. “You couldn’t have handled this alone?”

“I wasn’t sure what the protocol was for this.” Deputy Poland replies. He’s young, fresh out of training, but my frustration is very real. Even if I know I’m only annoyed because I’d had to end my date with Lani early to be here.

“Did you take a statement?” I ask, gesturing toward Conner and Talia Matthews, the diner owners, who’d called it in.

“I did.”

“Did anyone see anything?” I press.

He checks his notepad. “No. They were at home when the alarm company called them to let them know the glass shattered. They arrived on the scene a few minutes before I did.”

“Okay. Pull security footage from the outside and the ATM across the street. See if you can find anything, okay?” I looked to Matthews. “Was anything taken?” I ask.

“No,” Conner replies. “We checked the till and everything in the back. I doubt anyone even came in. Maybe it was just a rock kicked up by some passing car?”

Maybe. Good news is it wasn’t a robbery.” I turn to Deputy Poland. “I’ll call Mr. Hunt and see if they have any plywood lying around until the hardware store opens tomorrow. The brothers are out of town, so take Deputy Lenson and head that way. I’ll call you if Mr. Hunt doesn’t answer or doesn’t have any on hand we can borrow.”

“Yes, Sheriff,” he says, then heads toward his patrol car.

“You really don’t have to go through all that trouble,” Talia tells me.

“No trouble at all,” I tell her with a smile. “Glad to help.” I withdraw my phone and tap on Tommy Hunt’s phone number. He answers on the second ring.

“What can I do for you, Sheriff?”

“Hey, Mr. Hunt, something shattered the front windows of the diner. I was wondering if you have any plywood lying around? We could use some sheets to board it up for the night.”

“Oh no, are Talia and Conner okay?”

“They’re fine. Weren’t here when it happened.”

“That’s good. Yeah, I have quite a few sheets lying around for a couple of projects. Let me get some boots on and I can go load it in the truck.”

“That would be great, thanks. I sent two deputies out your way just in case. They’ll be there to help load it up.”

“That is very appreciated,” he says with a light laugh. “I’ll get the truck ready to go so we can load it as soon as they get here.”

“I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime. Have a good night, son.”

“You too, Mr. Hunt.” I end the call but keep my cell in hand. “Tommy Hunt is going to loan you some plywood.”

“That is so wonderful. Thank you.” Talia takes a deep breath and turns toward the diner.

“We’ll find out what happened. And if someone did this, I’ll find them.”

“I know you will. Would you like a cup of coffee? I need to do something, or I’m going to lose my mind.” Talia laughs nervously. I can see how stressed she is—it’s written all over her face and painted by her body language.

It hurts my heart. These are good people.

I glance down at my phone. It’s only been about fifteen minutes since I dropped Lani off. Is she in bed yet? “That would be great, thanks.” I open up the phone and fire a text off to Lani.

Me: Someone shattered the front window of the café. It’s handled for now; your dad is loaning them some plywood to board the broken window. I’m heading in for a cup of coffee and was wondering if you’d like to join. I can come and pick you up?

When she doesn’t immediately respond, I shove the phone into my pocket and head up the steps. She’d said she had patient charts to go over, but I can’t help but wonder if she’s not already asleep. And if she is, tomorrow is soon enough to spend more time with her. “If you get me a broom, I’ll start sweeping some of this glass up,” I offer.

* * *

Lani is all I’ve been able to think about. From the time I got home last night to the time I woke up this morning, she’s been on my mind. Her smile, her gorgeous eyes, the sound of her laughter.

The sight of her in that gorgeous green dress that absolutely stole my breath.

That kiss.

I can still feel it on my lips.

Her shift doesn’t start until seven this morning, so I’m standing on the doorstep of her apartment, two coffees in hand, by six fifteen. It’s ridiculous, the nerves dancing in my stomach. I’ve known the woman my entire life, but after last night she’s no longer Lani Hunt: best friend. She’s Lani Hunt: the woman I hope to spend the rest of my life with.

With the tray of coffees in one hand, along with a brown paper bag containing one of my mom’s blueberry muffins, I raise my fist and knock.

No answer.

I knock again.

A few minutes later, there’s still no answer. Strange. Leaning forward, I press my ear to the door. Lani always blasts music as she gets ready, but there’s none playing. Something twists in my gut.

“Lani?” I call out, knocking again.

No answer.

That twisting in my gut turns to dread, and I reach down to check the knob. It turns—slowly. Alarm bells screech in my head as I set the coffees down on the ground beside her door, my hand instinctively going to the butt of my weapon. I don’t draw it yet.

Maybe she’s running late.

Maybe she overslept.

Maybe she went out for a run this morning and forgot to lock up behind her when she came home.

A lot of maybes.

But my instincts are telling me none of them are the truth.

I open the door. “Lani? It’s Gibson, the door was unlo—” I trail off the moment the door hits broken glass. My heart begins to pound. I shove it open, and every single warm feeling I’d had when I first woke this morning vanishes.

Before I go in any further, I pull out my phone and dial the station. “It’s Gibson,” I tell Deputy Brown when she answers. “Get everyone to Lani Hunt’s apartment now.” After rattling off the address, I end the call and stick it in my pocket.

I draw my weapon, knowing there’s no way I’m waiting until backup arrives. If she’s here, I’m going to find her. I’m going to save her. If she’s still alive. I shove the thought aside because it’s too horrific a thought to even process. God, please let her be alive. “Lani!” I call out.

Her coffee table is smashed, and blood has pooled on the floor beneath the glass. Fear ices the blood in my veins as I follow a trail of blood to the kitchen. It’s empty, aside from some broken glass.

I head down the hall to her bedroom, checking the bathroom as I move past it. The drawers have all been opened and turned upside down onto the floor. The shower curtain was ripped down and is missing. I try to ignore what that could mean and focus only on the scene before me as I head back into the hall and toward her bedroom.

Clothes have been strewn all over the bed and floor, her closet ransacked. Dresser drawers are pulled open, their contents spilled out.

My stomach churns, bile rising up my throat. Panic threatens to consume me, but I shove it down. Lani needs me clearheaded.

She needs the sheriff, not the man who’s in love with her. So even as it kills me to do it, I bury my feelings.

I let my gaze travel around the room. There’s no blood in here, but her jewelry box is open, all of her earrings and bracelets gone.

A robbery?

But if that’s all it was, then where is Lani?