Love Inspired Suspense April 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 Laura Scott (speed reading book .txt) 📖

capable. You’ve had some bad breaks. Who hasn’t? So get out there and do your job.”

Paige stared at her boss. Shelley had never spoken to her like that before. It shook her down to her core.

“You’re right. I was feeling sorry for myself.” Self-pity didn’t solve anything, and she detested that she found herself falling into that trap. That wasn’t like her.

“You’ve worked difficult cases before. Why are you so afraid now?”

“I’m afraid that I’ll make a misstep and get Liam killed.”

Shelley stared at her with compassion. “Like your fiancé was killed? That wasn’t your fault. You were cleared of any wrongdoing.”

“Whose fault was it then? If I had been faster, smarter, Ethan might not be dead. I don’t think I could bear it if Liam died because I wasn’t good enough, smart enough, fast enough to stop it.”

“What makes you think you’re in control?” Shelley asked. “The last time I checked, it was the Lord who was in control. Not you.”

A cry on Chloe’s part had Shelley saying, “We’d better go. She’s been here all day while Caleb’s been on assignment. We’ve both had it.”

Humbled, Paige acknowledged that Shelley was right. The Lord was in control, not her, but Paige had a responsibility to do her best. What if her best wasn’t good enough? What if her best got Liam killed?

Liam drove home, his thoughts centered on Paige and what she had shared with him about her fiancé’s death. Not for the first time, he found himself in awe of her strength and her faith.

He might never accept or understand her belief in the Lord’s love, but he respected it and even wished he could find it for himself. His thoughts slid to the time when he’d been a believer. He’d been a regular Bible-carrying churchgoer, not just on Sunday but during the week, as well. He’d even taught a youth class, sharing his testimony and praising God at any opportunity. Now he didn’t even own a Bible, much less read from it.

He rolled his shoulders, trying to relieve the tension that had gathered there. Twenty-four-hour shifts, even forty-eight-hour and longer ones, hadn’t fazed Liam while he’d been on deployment. Action made the difference. Now, as he and Paige had gone over the same information again and again, he was beyond exhausted.

Rest was as important as any weapon in a soldier’s arsenal. Over the last weeks, he’d skimped on sleep and was now paying for it. He was ready for a bite to eat and then sleep.

But he wasn’t ready for what he found there.

Crude writings defacing the front door and sprayed on the windows should have prepared him for the ruin inside. But they didn’t. How could anything have prepared him for the total destruction of his home?

It was the senselessness of the act that caused him to see red. Why?

Nails digging into his palms, he walked through the lower level of the house. Pictures of him and Jonah had been torn from their frames and ripped to pieces. Shattered glass littered the floor. Green and purple paint had been splashed over cabinets and counters, the resulting mix somehow obscene.

Plants had been overturned. Whatever lowlife had done this had mixed water with the spilled potting soil, turning it to mud. That, in turn, had been smeared over the walls and furniture, along with streaks of red that resembled blood. Even Jonah’s artwork had not escaped the destruction, with filthy language defacing the pictures.

Liam picked up a picture and looked at what had been a drawing of Jonah and himself. He recalled the day Jonah had brought it home from preschool, so proud that he’d drawn the two of them.

His innocent pleasure in his creation had filled Liam with a rush of happiness and love for his son. There was no way the picture could be salvaged.

What was he to say to his son? How did he explain the unexplainable?

Liam clenched his fists as rage poured through him. Whoever had done this would pay. The silently made promise echoed through his mind.

They’d pay dearly.

Though Liam rarely cried, tears pricked his eyes now. He didn’t wipe them away.

TEN

“Are you all right?” Paige recognized the foolishness of her question. Of course he wasn’t all right.

Liam had called her right after he’d called the police. He’d told her that she didn’t need to come, but she’d ignored that and raced to his house. If he hadn’t been out at the time, he could have been hurt, but she knew it wasn’t that that filled him with rage.

It was the knowledge that his son could easily have been in the house when the vandals attacked. If Liam hadn’t had the foresight to send Jonah to his grandparents’, the little boy might have been hurt. Or worse.

She had arrived to find a police car, lights flashing, outside the house. Inside, one officer was busy taking pictures, while another took notes as he interviewed Liam.

Paige kept out of the way and did her own survey of the devastation. What she saw caused her gut to clench.

Vandalism was always senseless, but this took it to a new level. There’d been no need to destroy precious family pictures and a child’s artwork, no need to write obscenities on the walls, no need to overturn plants and smear the dirt into the carpet.

“What about the rest of the house?” the officer asked Liam.

“I haven’t looked.”

“Maybe you’d better do that right now.”

Liam climbed the stairs to the second floor, Paige right behind him. His bedroom appeared untouched, but when he came to Jonah’s room, he stopped cold.

She stepped around him. What she saw caused her to gasp. The mattress had been slashed, the bedding tossed on the floor with what looked like blood covering it. She sniffed, confirming her guess. It was blood. Aside from being smeared on the bedding, it had also been used to write a message on the mirror: Back off or else.

“Liam, you don’t have to look any further,” Paige said quietly. “Let