Moving into the bedrooms and bathrooms, I found the same scene. I checked the closets, under the beds, the laundry room—nobody was here. “You can come in,” I yelled to Peyton. “But don’t touch anything.
Her prints were certainly all over the place, but I didn’t want her to smudge any print the thief or thieves had left.
Her hands went to her face as soon as she entered. “Oh my God… How… Who would…?”
When she started to sob, I took her into my arms and rubbed her back. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.”
“But why?” She sniffled.
I didn’t have an answer to that. “Often, it’s either kids or a junkie looking for things to sell.” Statistically, that was true in general, but a lot less likely in a multi-story condo building.
She pushed away. I hated it, but let her go.
“At least they didn’t tear up the place or destroy any of the artwork. I couldn’t afford to repay the Hartfords if they’d damaged things.”
I followed her to the kitchen. “Do you have anything valuable they could have been after?”
She closed a drawer and leaned back against the counter. “Only these.” She touched her diamond earrings.
“Nothing else?” They were pretty and probably expensive, but I was no expert in the value of women’s jewelry. This had not been a smash-and-grab or run-of-the-mill jewelry heist.
No, they had searched the drawers in the kitchen in addition to all the bedrooms. The thieves had been looking for something in particular, something that would naturally find its way into a drawer, something small.
If they wanted jewelry, they would have concentrated on the master bedroom and bathroom. No, this was targeted, but they weren’t after a set of earrings.
Suddenly, Peyton rushed out.
I chased after her.
She searched both sides of the bed.
“What?”
“My backpack. They got all my…” Her eyes went watery. “I had some money in it.” From the tremor in her voice, it likely wasn’t a small amount.
“Very much?” I asked.
She nodded and wiped under her eyes.
I tried one more time to console her and brought her in for a hug.
This time, she accepted the gesture, and true water works started as I held her. It wasn’t merely lunch money they’d gotten.
“Cash?” I asked.
She nodded against me.
With one hand, I pulled out my phone. “I’m calling the cops.”
She pulled quickly away. “No. I told you, no cops.”
“But they can dust for prints.” I desperately wanted to know who these assholes were, so I could track them down and give them a little street justice.
“No. You can’t. They’ll have to contact the owners, and I’ll get kicked out. I’ll have nowhere to live. Please don’t.”
“Okay.” I put away the phone. Her argument made sense.
She started putting things back in place.
