Stolen by Jordan Gray

vanished almost as soon as her words escaped her lips.
    Michael peered at the road that wove through the landscaped grounds. The trees came to a stop within forty feet of the main house.
    The drive circled in front of the manor, then wound out around the garage and the small house where Irwin and Iris lived in separate quarters. Lights were on in those buildings, as well.
    Michael glanced to Irwin. “The cars, do you think?”
    â€œThey would be the most valuable asset to seize, sir, but they would also be hard to escape with, given the road conditions around Blackpool.”
    That was true. Blackpool remained somewhat removed from other cities and towns, and the highways and roads definitely lacked hospitality.
    â€œUnless the thieves intended to get them away by boat.”
    Michael frowned at the caretaker. “It bothers me that you’re so quick with that answer.”
    Irwin permitted himself a sliver of a grin. “One’s mind does tend to wander while polishing an auto, sir.”
    â€œTrue.” Michael gripped the iPhone and took a breath. “I’m going to assume that whoever was here has already gone. And found a way out. Let’s have a look at what they did.”
    Thankfully, Molly stayed slightly behind him as he and Irwin headed toward the house. Michael’s stomach lurched as he crossed the distance to the main door. Surprisingly, it was locked. He reached into his pocket.
    â€œPermit me, sir.” Irwin stepped forward with his key ring and quickly unlocked the door. The mechanism clicked hollowly and echoed in the large room beyond.
    Cautiously, Michael entered the house.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    â€œS O THE INTRUDERS WERE IN the house seven minutes?”
    Taking a deep breath to ease his frustration, Michael nodded at the inspector. “We’ve got some nice footage of a couple blokes in ski masks trashing the house, but not much else.”
    â€œI’ll need a copy of that.”
    â€œOf course.” Michael looked past DCI Paddington into Molly’s office on the first floor. She occupied a large suite just off the grand ballroom. Normally that office was kept neat as a pin. Iris Dunstead never stepped foot into the place to clean, although she was a frequent guest there. The room was entirely Molly’s domain.
    Bulletin boards, dry erase boards and computer equipment covered the walls as if placed there according to an architect’s design. Color-coded folders, always kept in filing cabinets, now lay strewn across the floor like scattered plumage from an enormous and multihued bird.
    Molly’s large Victorian desk sat on the other side of the room, its drawers overturned on the Persian rug.
    Unbelievably, Molly kept herself under control as Paddington’s crime scene team—such as it was—tramped through the office. She stood to one side with her arms crossed and fury in her eyes. Michael was relieved that he wasn’t one of the people who had caused the room’s destruction.
    Paddington carefully stepped through the debris. “Seven minutes, you say.”
    â€œThey were here at least seven minutes. They tripped one of the interior alarms. I’m not sure when the outer alarm was breached.” Michael kept himself detached from the fear that quivered inside him. He couldn’t help thinking what might have happened if Molly had been home at the time of the break-in. He wanted to believe the thieves simply would have waited for the house to be empty.
    â€œWhat?” Paddington paused with his pen above his notebook.
    â€œWhoever broke in set off a security alarm.” Michael spoke slowly, working through the possible scenario in his mind. “But they might have been here awhile before they set the alarm off.” He focused on Paddington. “In fact, they could have been prowling around my house while you had us cooling our heels at the police station.”
    Paddington ignored the jibe. “If they got