Page 39 of Landry

She nodded, her arm encircling his waist, holding tightly. “I am now.” She laughed. “Remind me to never go boating in the bayou after dark again.”

“Never go boating in the bayou after dark,” he said. “Especially with a former Navy SEAL who can’t say no to a pretty woman and her adorable little girl.”

She leaned back and stroked her daughter’s back. “I feel bad that we didn’t find Billy Ray. I should’ve been more observant when Ava talked about him. I would’ve realized sooner that he wasn’t all in her imagination.”

“We live and learn every day.” He glanced down at Ava. “Let’s get her to bed.”

Camille stepped out of the curve of his arm.

Landry immediately missed the softness of her body pressed to his.

When he turned toward the cottage, Camille reached for his hand.

Landry’s chest filled with warmth and a sense of rightness. As they walked up the hill, all he could think was that this was what a family did. What a family looked like. They spent time together, accepted each other for their strengths and balanced each other’s weaknesses.

They didn’t abandon their loved ones to chase after the best business deal. They didn’t dump their kids with a nanny for months at a time, missing the important milestones of childhood—first steps, first words, first homerun, first touchdown, last game, graduation and reading a bedtime story.

Ava was a lucky little girl. Camille was a good mother who would do anything for her, the most important thing being that she loved her unconditionally.

As they approached the back porch, Camille’s steps slowed, her hand in his pulling him to a stop. “I closed and locked the back door, didn’t I?”

Landry’s arm tightened around Ava. “Yes, you did. We talked about it.”

“And I left the light on.”

The porch light wasn’t on. Nor were any lights on in the house. His gaze swept the immediate vicinity, returning to the back door shadowed by the overhanging porch. If he wasn’t mistaken, the door stood slightly ajar.

“Someone’s been in my house,” Camille whispered.

Landry couldn’t go into the house and check it out without leaving Ava and Camille in the yard. Unprotected.

“Come with me,” he said and hurried around to the front of the cottage.

Only his truck and her car stood in the drive. That didn’t mean they were the only people there.

He fished in his pocket for his keys, unlocked his truck and held the passenger door for Camille. “Get in,” he said.

She slid into the seat. “Where are we going?”

He handed Ava to Camille. “We aren’t going anywhere. I need you and Ava to stay here with the doors locked while I clear the house.” He handed her the keys and his phone, then reached across, opened the console and took out his Glock.

Her eyes widened. “Are we in danger?”

“I don’t know. But if the front porch light doesn’t come on in three minutes, or I don’t step out on it, call 911 and drive to the sheriff’s office as fast as you can.”

She raised the cell phone he’d handed her. “Shouldn’t I just call 911 now?”

“You can, if it makes you feel better. I’m going to see if the person who was in your house is still there. Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’s only a ten-year-old boy.” He closed the door and tapped the window. “Lock it.”

She hit the button on the side of the door. Locks clicked in place.

Landry pulled back the slide, chambering a round, and approached the house. He climbed the steps and reached for the doorknob. They’d locked it earlier.

The knob turned easily.

Standing to the side of the entrance, Landry pushed the door inward. He waited a second. When nothing happened, he slipped inside and moved out of the doorframe immediately, crouching low.

Muted starlight illuminated the living room just enough that he could see almost everything in the room. He searched the shadowy corners for movement. When there was none, he moved silently through the room and into the hallway.

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