Now she slept deeply, peacefully. Fury burned inside him. Who the hell had been in her house, destroying things and terrorising her? He’d rung up the police station first thing that morning when he’d crept out of bed, careful not to disturb Barbie, but there’d been no good news. Apart from damage, there was no sign of forced entry into the house. All the windows on the top floor had been closed, and with the amount of fingerprints everywhere, it was almost impossible to find out if anyone uninvited had been in the house. He knew exactly where this was going. Questions would be asked, it’d be investigated, but unless someone saw anything or the fingerprints turned up someone unknown, there didn’t seem a lot of hope in discovering who had been at the house. Christ, Barbie had been so terrified, and her scream had torn at him. He couldn’t get to her fast enough, terrified himself at knowing she was still in the house, having to cut the connection to call the police station to get help, calling Matt in case Barbie got hurt and needed medical attention. When he’d seen her running into the yard, he’d nearly died of relief, only to have it again turn to worry when he saw the blood on her arms.
