Summer kicked half-heartedly at some of the debris scattered on the rug with the toe of her Adidas and stared forlornly at the mess.She bent down to pick up an overturned plant pot, and he shook his head.“No, leave everything just as it is, so the police can see what happened.”
“Oh, really?”She recoiled and stood up quickly.
“I know your first impulse is to clean up, but trust me on this matter.”
Her cheeks had regained some of their pink quality on the way up the stairs, but now all color again drained from her face, as she took in the utter destruction of her home for the second time.
Mårten laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, the leather jacket butter-soft beneath his palm.She turned to stare up at him.
“Thanks,” she said.“I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t,” he replied as he raked his gaze across the ruined apartment.It was compact.He noted the floor-to-ceiling corner windows would let in copious amounts of light during the day, and even at night still afforded a lovely view over the rooftops and down the street all the way to the bay and the city lights twinkling in the distance.This large room comprised what would have been a cozy sitting area, decorated with natural fibers, and muted, warm colors.But now, all the cushions were scattered haphazardly around the space, smashed glass trinkets lay on the floor, and upturned plant pots had spread dirt in every direction.In amongst the mess he could see a bicycle on a stand had been tipped over.
A full kitchen filled the section to his left as they walked in the door, with state-of-the-art appliances and stone countertops.He also noted a corridor and assumed it led to a bedroom and a bathroom.“Come on, let me make you a coffee,” he offered, steering her behind the kitchen bench, and flicking the switch on the machine.“Where are your mugs?”he asked, opening a cabinet next to his head.
“Up there.”She pointed to the second cupboard along, but didn’t move to give him a hand.She had a glazed, vacant look that so many victims took on.Shock turning to dismay as she processed everything that’d happened.Mårten knew that a hot, sweet drink often helped in cases like this.A dash of something harder also wouldn’t hurt, but after opening a few more cupboards he gave up looking for alcohol.He busied himself making them both a coffee, monitoring her in his peripheral vision.
When he and Jacob had worked together, Jacob had accused Mårten of being the good cop in their partnership.The one who kept a cool head and was always easygoing, while Jacob was the brash, reckless one.Mårten wasn’t sure he agreed with his friend’s assertion; Mårten could be just as uncompromising and even violent if the situation called for it.But he also understood that compassion and empathy got you equally as far in the long run.It was one reason he’d joined the police force, wanting to help people who were in trouble.Wanting to right the wrongs in this world.His older brother, Erik, had once told him he had an unhealthy compulsion to fix other people’s problems, but he preferred to think of it as having a strong moral compass.
He liked to be of service.But really, it was just a nice thing to do—make this poor woman a hot drink and try and take her mind off the terrible catastrophe that was her apartment.
She was still staring blankly out the window a few minutes later when he put a coffee on the bench next to her.“Here you go,” he said.Wrapping his palms around his own mug and leaning back against the countertop.A glint of gold caught his eye from a delicate cross on a fine chain sitting in the hollow of her throat beneath the collar of the leather jacket.He’d noticed that she’d touched the necklace just before she’d stepped through her doorway earlier; a habit or an entreaty to God to protect her, he wasn’t sure which.She wore no other jewelry that he could see; no rings adorned her fingers.She had her hands clasped in front, but she repeatedly rubbed her right thumb across the palm of her left hand in an unconscious movement that hinted at her agitation, even as her gaze finally focused on him.
“Thank you.”For a fleeting second, he was trapped within the depths of her dark eyes as she regarded him seriously.Equally dark lashes framed her eyes, giving them a sensual vibe that was hard to ignore.
Forcing his gaze back to his cup, he took a careful sip, before asking, “Is there someone I can call for you?To come and be with you?Family perhaps?”No one should have to go through this alone.And he knew he must be a very poor second to having kin or perhaps a boyfriend here.
Summer shook her head.“My family all live in San Jose.I moved up here to go to uni, and well…” she gave a delicate shrug that made him wonder if there was more to the story.
“Blast it!I have to get that camera back,” she said, placing her mug on the countertop with a bang.“It’s my primary camera; I need it to carry out my work.”
That piqued his interest.It sounded like she was a photographer of some kind.“Was it expensive?Is that why they stole it?”he asked.
“Yes,” she agreed.“It’s a top of the range Nikon, worth over $5000.”Her shoulders slumped.“I was scheduled to leave on a research trip to Montana tomorrow to help document a population of lynx cats.They’re very rare, practically endangered.I’m going to have to tell them I can’t make it now.”Her eyes became hard and brittle as she stared down at the mess on her floor.“I guess I’ll be cleaning this up instead.And sourcing a new camera.”
“So you’re a wildlife photographer?”he asked, hoping to redirect her anger, but also genuinely interested.“And you earn a living from it?”The only photographers Mårten knew captured weddings or portraits.Not animals in the wild.And they often struggled to make ends meet.
Her focus returned to him, and some of the heat went out of her gaze.“Yes, I generate a good income, actually.”Looking around the apartment, he decided she must be right.He was no guru on rent prices in Seattle, but even he could tell this was a nice place.Perhaps someone targeted her for that reason?Had the thief tried to break into other apartments in this block?He made a mental note to ensure the police checked that out when they arrived.
“At least I had my computer in my backpack with me, so they didn’t have a chance to take that.My life’s work is on that laptop,” she mused.“And I’m insured, so I can replace the camera he stole, but…” she tapered off at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.At last, the officers in blue had arrived.Mårten placed his cup on the countertop and turned to greet them.He wished he’d thought to put his police shield in his pocket before he left the house this evening, so that he might prove beyond a doubt his credentials.As it was, the Seattle cops would just have to believe him.
A female dressed in the traditional dark-blue uniform knocked on the open door and stepped through without waiting for an invitation, an older, more rotund male following close on her heels.
“Are you Miss Pérez?The owner of this residence?”the woman asked in an efficient but not unkind tone that Mårten recognized.He adopted a similar approach when he was attending to victims of crime.
“Yes,” Summer confirmed.
“My name is Constable Susan Moreland, and this is Senior Constable Downy.”She gestured to the middle-aged man behind her.
“And is this your boyfriend?”Moreland asked when Summer looked at her expectantly, forgetting to introduce him.
“Oh, gosh, no,” Summer spluttered.“I only met him half an hour ago.He was on the street when I chased the guy outside.His name is Mårten,” she added.
Mårten wasn’t offended by Summer’s vague description; she was still coping with the traumatic situation.Leaning forward, he offered his hand to the constable.“Mårten Viskten.I’m an inspector with the Swedish police.I’m over here on holiday, and just happened to be standing in the street when everything went down.I pursued the thief, but he eluded me.Then I offered to accompany Ms.Pérez upstairs and waited with her until you arrived.”
Mårten stood up to his full height as both officers turned to stare at him, evaluating him in a new light now they knew he was one of them.He seemed to be acceptable to both, because Constable Moreland reached for her small writing pad and pen in her top pocket, and the senior constable inclined his balding head in Mårten’s direction by way of acknowledgement, then said, “Sounds like it was a good thing you were there.”
Mårten stood out of the way while the constable took down Summer’s statement, and Downy perused the room, his sharp, blue gaze missing nothing.The guy might be overweight, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at what he did.Mårten had met his kind before in the Swedish force, and they always made up for what they lacked in physical prowess with mental astuteness.Mårten waited until the officers had finished collecting their evidence, and the constable was talking quietly to Summer just outside the front door, making sure she had an appropriate description of the thief, before he approached Downey.
