“We need to talk,” he said, his eyes searching her face thoughtfully.
She merely nodded, wondering what there was to talk about. She certainly had no answers for the craziness of the day.
“I think it’s fairly obvious that the break-in at the pawnshop and this one are somehow connected.” He began to pace in front of her. “It seems curious to me that nothing was stolen from the shop. It’s filled with televisions, stereos, VCRs and such, yet the only thing you could find missing was your daily ledger.”
“But the police seemed to think that the thieves must have been interrupted before they could take anything. Or that it was kids and the ledger was taken by mistake or thrown away.”
“I can’t buy either of those explanations, especially now. It’s too much of a coincidence that both your pawnshop and this apartment have been broken into.” He stopped pacing and looked at her once again, his dark gaze so piercing, he seemed to be trying to see into her very soul. “What could they have been looking for?”
“How should I know?” she asked. “I told you before, I don’t have anything of real value. Certainly nothing worth all this trouble.”
“Somebody apparently thinks you do.”
“That’s their problem,” she retorted tiredly.
“For the moment, it seems to be your problem,” he returned. “That pawnshop of yours… You haven’t borrowed any money from anyone lately…you don’t happen to have any high-finance backers or anything like that?”
For a moment she stared at him incredulously. “Are you asking me if I have a connection to organized crime? Don’t be ridiculous.” She eyed him with a sudden misgiving. “How do I know you don’t have something to do with this? My life was very quiet and manageable until you began following me.” Her gaze narrowed suspiciously.
“I guess we’ll just have to trust each other,” he finally said with staid calmness.
“Guess so,” she quietly agreed after a long moment, too tired to sustain her suspicions and realizing Tony’s involvement in this mess made no more sense than her own involvement.
As exhausted as she was, she roused herself from the couch, unable to stand the disorder around her for another moment.
“We should call the police and report this,” Tony said, picking up a Navajo blanket from the floor.
“No. I don’t want them here,” she protested, pointing to where the blanket had been hanging on the wall. “I don’t want anyone else pawing through my things, poking into my life.” She shrugged. “Besides, what could they do? Ask me a million questions, then tell me it was the work of bored kids or dope addicts.” She was aware that her voice sounded as hollow as she felt. She returned to the cleanup work, not even protesting as he began to work alongside her.
“I guess I’m going to owe you another meal,” she said, trying to smile in spite of her chilled fatigue.
He smiled at her, a touch of humor back in his ebony eyes. “I have a feeling that before this is all over, you’re going to owe me a hell of a lot more than just a meal.”
