Page 37 of Three Steps Behind

His gun still drawn, he moved for the light, and she moved with him, instinctually. Half because she didn’t want to be alone and half because this was her home and she wanted to protect it.

Deck reached the light, and the switch clicked.

She took in her condo and stumbled back. Someone had trashed the place—plants tipped over, soil tossed across her terra-cotta floor, sofa cushions astray on the floor . . .

“What? Why?”

“I’m going to sweep all the rooms,” Deck murmured under his breath.

She nodded once again, following him until they’d cleared the condo. The entire place was a mess, but the only thing missing appeared to be her laptop. “Why?” she mumbled again. “Who would do this?”

“My guess,” Deck said, sliding his Glock into the back of his pants, “is Big Max.”

“I thought you’d go with Nick because I have Tay’s journal, and it might hold some incriminating evidence, but why would he want to take my laptop? And why would Big Max want it?”

“Who knows.” Deck shrugged. “It holds a lot of information. For Max, it has ties to me and the gang. For Nick, ties to Taylor. It really could go either way, but a bust-into-your-house is more Max’s style.”

“Just like at your place.”

“Right, and that was before we even talked to Nick. And who knows how long ago this occurred. We just happened to find it today.”

“Good point.” She stared around her wreck of a place. “I guess I better start cleaning this up.”

“Don’t you want to call Joel first?”

“No. I’m sure whoever it was wore gloves, but we can at least call and tell him. I mean, you guys are baseball buddies. You can just let him know about it. I’m too tired to do a full report.” She sighed. “I better put my energy into cleaning up.”

“Hang on. I have a better idea.”

Two hours later, the entire MacLeod clan and their significant others had her place sparkling, and true-to-Deckard form, he’d had Sheriff Joel Brunswick swing by and take a look before they started. She just had to drop by the station when it was convenient and file a report.

“Thank you,” she said to Deck when they were the last ones there.

“It wasn’t me. Grey gets into cleaning.”

She surprised herself and laughed. Just for a nanosecond, but it was laughter all the same. “He definitely got into it.”

“Why don’t you grab a bag of stuff you’d like at the house, and we’ll head back to the ranch?”

She bit her bottom lip. “You still want me there?”

“After this, absolutely.”

Valid reason, but not what she was hoping for. “I’ll be back.” She moved into her bedroom and packed some clothes and essentials. Men’s toiletries left a lot to be desired if you didn’t want to smell like a forest. Not that she minded the scent on Deckard one little bit.

“I want you to stay with me.”

She spun around. Deck leaned against the doorjamb. One boot crossed over the other, one hand braced on the jamb. How long had he been there with that soft smile tugging at his lips?

She slipped her hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry, you said . . . ?” He’d actually said it, right? She wasn’t imagining things, was she?

He pushed off the doorjamb. “I want you to stay with me. I—”

The doorbell rang.

Nooooo! She’d say ignore it, but Deck was already two steps from the door with his gun drawn again.

“Who is it?” he called out.