There was a police cruiser and another gray sedan at the curb, and she realized the second vehicle was an unmarked police car.

Easton pulled to a stop, then jogged around the Aston and helped her out.

A cold breeze teased her hair that she’d loosely tied back. She hadn’t paid much attention when she’d gotten dressed. She’d pulled on some black leggings and a large, oversized cream sweater.

Easton had shocked her by wearing jeans. Dark denim that hugged his ass in a way that made her mouth water, and he’d topped it with a blue sweater the color of his eyes.

A man in a suit broke away from the uniformed officers.

He was cop-hot. Strong face, with a muscular body and a walk that announced he’d once been military. His brown hair was cut short, and she got a glimpse of a holster under his jacket. A badge was clipped to his belt.

“Hi, Easton.”

“Hunt.”

The men shook hands.

“Harlow Carlson, Detective Hunter Morgan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harlow said.

“I wish it was under better circumstances.” The detective eyed the two of them. “Sorry for ruining your Saturday morning.”

“Was anything taken?” she asked.

Surely if they’d found blood or anything concerning, he would’ve mentioned it.

“Maybe you could tell me. I tried to contact your parents, but I didn’t get an answer on either of their numbers.”

“My mom’s away at a yoga retreat, and regularly turns her phone off. And my dad’s…off on business.”

Hunt’s green gaze was piercing, and she guessed he wasn’t buying that.

“Come on.” He jerked his head toward the house.

He led them in the front door. The scent of lemons hit Harlow. It was a cleaning product the housekeeper had used since she was a little girl. Everything looked normal. Her mom liked the Hamptons style—lots of white with touches of blues and wood.

“They got in through the back door to the kitchen,” Hunt said.

In the kitchen, broken glass was scattered across the floor.

“They have an alarm,” she said.

“Disabled.”

Had this been Antoine looking for her dad? Rhoda looking for her dagger?

“The house has been searched, but they were pretty careful, except in the office.”

Her father’s office was a mess. She gasped, and Easton wrapped an arm around her.

The desk chair was tipped over, things were yanked off shelves, and empty drawers hung open from the desk.

Harlow bit her lip. Behind the desk, the safe set in the wall was open and very empty.

“You know what your dad kept in here?” Hunt asked.

“Some cash, a little jewelry, a few business papers. Nothing hugely valuable.” She looked around. “Not worth all this effort.”

“You know why someone would break into your father’s office, Ms. Carlson?”