Yelling, she said, “Daddy! Someone broke into my apartment!”
The next sound she heard was Kendrick’s booted feet running up the stairs.
Daddy was at her side in mere seconds.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kendrick was trying hard to control his rage.
It wasn’t easy. Someone had invaded his babygirl’s space. What if she would have come home by herself to find her knob broken and her door half open?
Or worse yet, what if she would have been home when they broke in? He could just imagine Little Samantha in bed by herself, waking up to the sound of someone kicking in her door and barging in.
His fists were balled so tightly that his knuckles were white.
He took deep breaths and tried hard to calm down. He’d mastered the art when he was on the Force. The streets were filled with chaos. One had to find a calm center in order to keep from going mad.
It didn’t take too long for the cops to look things over. At first, Samantha had voiced hesitation in even calling them, feeling she didn’t even have enough stuff inside to worry about.
But Kendrick had convinced her of the need to involve the police. This could have been a targeted attack. He didn’t think his Little girl had any enemies. But a stalker perhaps? A guy who knew she was a single—or formerly single—woman who lived on her own?
The intruder had struck at night. That’s when people were usually home. Meaning, if someone broke in at night, they often had the intent of hurting the occupants inside the residence.
Cat burglars preferred the daylight hours when folks were at work. They preyed upon empty houses and loathed confrontation.
This incident seemed personal to Kendrick. His years investigating crimes told him that much.
He didn’t know the officers who responded to the call. That wasn’t unusual. Los Angeles had a huge force. It was nearly impossible to know everyone on it. Especially as you moved up the ranks. Years had passed since Kendrick was a rookie. New people joined every day. There were hundreds he wouldn’t recognize. That number was growing the longer he was away, too.
He found himself unimpressed with these two.
A young man and woman, they seemed more annoyed to be fielding the call than eager to do their job. Kendrick assumed he knew why. A tiny garage apartment in a “bad” neighborhood. Not much stolen. No leads. Probably would never be solved. Just one of the thousands of small crimes that happened in LA all the time. No big deal. Right?
It was a huge deal to Kendrick. This was his sweet girl.
One thing was for sure—she needn’t worry about whoever did this coming back. Samantha would be staying at the mansion.
The officers looked around, took a report, and then gave the line about being in touch.
They’d never be in touch, but Kendrick didn’t tell them he knew the truth.
Once the patrol SUV pulled away, Kendrick said, “They won’t be of any help.”
“I figure this is low-profile,” Samantha said, walking back inside her apartment and looking around. “So weird that they didn’t take much.”
Kendrick nodded in agreement as he silently examined the room again. It didn’t take him long, either. There truly wasn’t much to look over. Just one room that made up the tiny kitchen, living area, and bedroom. There were two doors in the boxy space—one leading to a small bathroom, the other to an even smaller closet.
When he was done, he said, “And they only took some clothes?”
“Yeah.”
“But not from your closet?”
“No. They were in my bathroom.”
He thought about it for a moment and then voiced the question that sent a chill down his spine. “Was it your underwear or anything personal like that? Something a perv would want?”
She giggled. “You don’t want to see me in my underwear?”
