That earned another round of grins, easier this time, but under it all, the tension lingered.
Still, for now, with coffee in hand, pastries on the counter, and these wonderful, steady people in her corner, it didn’t feel quite as heavy.
She could breathe.
Even if someone out there clearly wanted to rattle the windows.
Laurel reached for another pastry, trying to decide between raspberry and cinnamon, when movement near the island caught her eye. Bennett stood barely a foot away, coffee in one hand, the other sliding his phone from his pocket.
The screen lit up with a text. She caught the brief message, “It’s Theo again. You have to hear me out.”before his thumb moved fast and efficiently, deleted the message. No hesitation. No reaction.
He didn’t say anything, just slipped the phone back into his pocket and took another sip of coffee like nothing had happened.
But something had.
Laurel didn’t comment, didn’t want to invade his privacy, but the muscles along his jaw were a little tighter now. His shoulders were a little more squared too.
She tucked that away with all the other things she was starting to learn about Bennett Vaughn.
Chapter Thirteen
After a quick talk with the framing foreman next door, Bennett stepped back into the apartment. The window was now fully secured, the sunlight muted behind newly installed glass, but the memory of that projectile crashing through it last night was still fresh in his mind.
He took in the space at a glance. Laurel was over by the kitchen counter, talking on the phone with Annie, her hands moving as she described something with her usual animation. She looked fine. More than fine, actually. Her hair was twisted up now, a few stubborn strands slipping free to frame her face. Her voice carried with a spark of humor. Definitely not rattled.
Good.
Tyler and Carter were out in the common area by the elevator, finishing up the installation of a new camera, and he’d passed Matthew on his way in. The guy was heading out to help one of the delivery drivers unload the final box for the unit next door.
Bennett turned at the sound of boots on the stairs, his senses snapping into alert mode as Rylee stepped into the apartment. Her stride was confident, her dark ponytail swaying behind her, a file folder in one hand and her phone in the other. No wasted movement. No unnecessary words.
The kind of presence that said something mattered.
“Tell me you have news,” Bennett said, stepping toward her, his voice low and clipped.
Rylee nodded once, calm but serious. “Hunter tracked some light boot prints out near the alley fence line. He followed themfor two blocks before the trail faded. No clear exit point. But it’s something.”
Something was better than nothing.
She passed him the folder, and he flipped it open with practiced ease. Inside were several printed stills, grainy, but clear enough to show the rear corner of a dark-colored SUV. Mud-splattered, no plate visible in the frame, but the taillight shape and roof rack stood out enough to help narrow the make and model.
“This from last night?” he asked, eyes scanning the timestamp.
Rylee nodded. “Yeah. Caught it on one of the building’s external cams right before the window shattered. Not the same vehicle from the diner. Different angle, different timing. Gabe’s trying to pull traffic cam data to get a plate, but we’ve already ruled out the white pickup.”
Bennett studied the still again, a prickle of unease crawling up the back of his neck. “So we’re dealing with more than one player.”
“Looks like it,” Rylee said. “And this one’s more careful. No direct angle, no lingering. Just a toss and gone.”
He studied the photo again, tension pulling tight across his shoulders. Whoever this was, they weren’t reckless. They moved with purpose. Precision. They knew when to strike and how to vanish.
Ghost-like.
Just like the kind of enemies he used to hunt overseas.
Bennett handed the folder back with a short grunt of approval. “Good work.”
Rylee didn’t smile, but the acknowledgment in her eyes said she understood just how serious he was.