Shakily, she followed Ben to the back of the house. Everything was gone, even the machinery Connor and his men were using. Empty space, when there’d been piles of neatly stacked flagstones and wood, glass panes and bricks. Ropes, scaffolding...everything.
Who would do such a thing? Deep gouges in the dirt at front and back of the manor showed they’d come quickly, Ben said, with two large vehicles. There must have been several men to do the heavy lifting.
Connor gesticulated near the shed, banging his fist and swearing profusely and she felt like cursing alongside him. A fresh message in black and red graffiti scrawl coloured her newly cleaned walls.
“Fuck off back to England, bitch,” Ben read out.
He returned Anjuli’s sharp look flatly. Sliding her gaze away, she hugged her arms into her chest. The theft seemed personal, not just the random act of opportunistic criminals. Suddenly, she felt more afraid for her safety than she’d ever felt in cities like London or New York. Whoever had stolen from her must have known she’d be out and they were safe from discovery.
Creepy. Just like the time a fan had stalked her in London. He’d left her love letters and flowers, flooded her with emails and posted marriage proposals on her fan sites. After he’d camped out in front of her flat, the Metropolitan police had cautioned him, and she never saw or heard from him again. Anjuli scowled at the graffiti. She hoped they’d catch the thieves and throw away the key.
She could hear Connor telling Rob he’d just reordered everything they needed on the company account, assuring him her house would be finished on schedule. Why hadn’t she let Mrs. P. guilt her into getting the insurance? Nobody would come all the way out to Castle Manor and steal building materials, she’d decided, so why pay for something she didn’t need? Only householders with mortgages were obliged by law to have homeowners insurance, and she’d purchased Castle Manor in cash.
The policy on a listed building was hefty, and she’d decided to insure once her bank loan came in. But now...She had to stop Connor from ordering what he needed. Tell him something, anything plausible. Take herself to Edinburgh first chance she had. Camp in front of the bank like her stalker had in London until they gave her the money. Then ask for more.
Anjuli leaned against the back wall and rubbed her temples. Where was she going to find the money to pay for the same materials all over again? Connor walked up and, bypassing Ben’s outstretched hand, he passed the mobile to Anjuli. “The boss wants a word, Miss Carver.”
Ben frowned, and she turned around to avoid his glare.
“Are you okay?” Rob asked.
“Peachy.”
“I don’t want you to be alone out there. Stay with Mac or Ash until I get home.”
Home. Such a small word, encapsulating such an intimate meaning. With four letters he invited her to be safe—with him—and made her feel she was finally where she belonged.
“I won’t be alone,” she said. “Damien’s coming over later.”
“Oh?”
“Reiver’s having an operation tomorrow and he’s coming to pick him up. Not staying or anything.”
Why had she felt the need to clarify that? Now he would say something possessive and macho and—
“Make sure he checks the windows and doors before you leave for the night.”
Anjuli narrowed her eyes at the graffiti. “I’m not running away from anybody.”
The smile in Rob’s voice sped straight to her heart. “Glad to hear it.”
While Ben talked to Rob, Anjuli did some quick maths. She would approach a different bank for more money. That’s what she’d do. Then she could complete the inside restoration work, cornices, fixtures and fittings, wages and—
Shit and double shit.
She’d gone from Prada to nada in the space of one year, but she’d never regretted her lack of financial savvy more than now. Everything was spiralling out of control, taking her along with it. Morosely, Anjuli dragged her body to the front door, with Ben behind. Reiver padded over to greet her, his big brown eyes as mournful as she felt. She scratched him behind the ears and he let out a soft whine.
“Poor boy, you’ll feel better soon.”
Ben let Reiver sniff his hand. “I didn’t know you had a dog. He doesn’t look too happy.”
Was that censure in his voice? “He’s having an operation tomorrow,” she said, then clasped her hands nervously. Ben’s partner was at the car, talking into his police recorder. “Would you and your partner like a cup of tea or coffee?”
A hard, flat look. “The only thing I want from you is a promise you’ll leave my brother alone.”