I glance over at Lily, and her eyebrows are pressed together in distress. Looking back at the cop, I say, “Okay, thank you. We’ll take a look around. But I promise we won’t compromise the scene.”
When they go back to their vehicle, Lily and I get out of mine and walk to the door.
“You good?” I ask as we climb the stairs leading to her porch.
“Yeah, I think so.”
I take her hand again, and we step inside. She gasps and her hand flies up to cover her mouth as we take in the entryway and living room. Every drawer and cabinet is open, the contents smashed and thrown about. Cushions are cut open, the stuffing spilling out all over the floor. Lamps are broken, which seems completely unnecessary since that would be an unlikely hiding place, but whoever this was, they were apparently leaving no stone unturned. We wander through the rest of the house. Every room is exactly like the first.
When we get to her bedroom, I ask, “Do you want to check to see if there was any jewelry they stole?”
She shrugs and stares at the room. “All the jewelry that means anything to me is at your place. The only thing here would be a pair of diamond earrings and my engagement ring. But I don’t think valuables were what these people were looking for.”
I cross my arms and take in the mattress flipped off the bed and cut open along with the box spring. “No, I don’t think so either.”
Her inhale is shaky. “I need to call work and let them know I won’t be in for the rest of the day.”
When she’s left me alone in the room, I wait a few minutes, and when I hear her voice from downstairs, I pull out my phone to take a picture of the carnage.
Pulling up my email, I type out a quick message and attach the picture.
Vern,
Any chance you know what they were looking for?
Chris
The chance of him answering is low, but I figure it’s worth a try. I’m desperate at this point.
And desperate times call for begging assholes for any information that might help, or whatever the hell that saying is.
30
Lily
Standing in my house for the second time, as it’s filled with cops investigating a crime, wasn’t something I could have predicted.
Well, really, the third, if you count the attempted break-in, but that was much more subdued than this fiasco.
“Excuse me? Ma’am?”
I turn to find one of the younger cops standing behind with an expectant expression.
“Yes?”
“You did say you didn’t think anything was taken, correct?”
I suppress my sigh. Both Chris and I have explained to them multiple times that we don’t think they broke in to steal anything. But that concept seems to be a difficult one for them. They also seemed confusedabout them breaking in during the day, and while I agree it’s not the smartest move, they were probably banking on me being at work.
Instead, I force a smile. “That is correct.”
“We’ll take it from here,” a voice calls out from across the room, and my muscles immediately tense.
Barrington and Wilcox stalk across the room, their gazes locked on me. Honestly, I’m surprised it took them as long as it did to show up. I wish Chris were with me, but he wandered off to take a phone call.
“Detectives,” I greet. I didn’t intend for it, but my tone is flat and cold.
The uniformed cop leaves us with a nod.
