With a scan of the lot and the building she spoke.“Johnny Porciello got angry you dumped him at the altar and is stalking you.He’s escalating, isn’t he?”
I bit my lip.The pain voided out the little jitters that had started working their way from my spine to my knees.“I wouldn’t know.”
Her approach stopped short of the little fence, giving me the illusion of safety.But in reality, I was trapped.“You’ve been staying with one Ringo Devlin.”
“You make him sound like a perp.”I laughed, trying to make light of it.
“Isn’t he one?”
“Why did they fire you again?”
The calculating look on her face froze.“Invite me in, I’ll tell you all about it.You won’t even have to get me drunk this time.”
“Ah, a cheap date.Gotta love that.”
“I’m serious, Ellie.You may think you know what’s going on, but it is a lot bigger than you realize.”
There was an art to smiling without artifice when your entire body wanted to run.I’d perfected it by the time I was ten.“Invite you in… I don’t know.Don’t you need a warrant?”
“I’m jobless.That doesn’t mean I can’t warn you.In fact, I’d say I’m in a unique position to warn you about the mistake you’re making.Your call.”She motioned to the door.
Reluctantly, I stepped over the fence, swiped my card over the reader and entered the lobby with Bridget on my heels.I stopped at the door.That had crime tape on it, too.“Is it even legal to go in?”
“For the owner of the building and the tenant, yes.”
Well.Both of those peeps were me.“Fair warning, I don’t even know what I’m facing here.I bet the house is a mess.”
Bridget put a hand in the space between me and the door.“Hang on.”She pulled a small revolver out of a concealed holster.
I took two steps back.My hands shook, and my knees threatened to buckle.The memory of Johnny pulling a gun on me overrode all the other times I’d seen one.Ringo’s friends thought they were must-have fashion accessories.That didn’t make me like them any better.At least they never pointed them at me.
“Relax, this is my personal firearm.I’m licensed.”
My hands were in the air.“I don’t like guns.”Or knives, or garrotes, or anything else Ringo and his friends carried.Even flame throwers.
“Just wait here until I clear the unit, okay?Trust me.”
There was too much gibbering in my head to reply.I handed her the key and let her do her schtick.She returned a few minutes later.
“Well?”I didn’t want to look.My home had been violated, not once, but twice.
“Looks fine.Other than the window, I don’t see a thing wrong.
It took an act of will to step over the threshold.No wonder Ringo hadn’t told me about any of this.He must have figured out I would freak.
Inside, I took a breath.A lot was out of place.It looked more like a show home than the place I’d adopted, nurtured, and smeared my thumbprints all over.My non-PG cross-stitched pillows were gone.Someone replaced them with artfully coordinated teal pillows.
Teal.
I wanted to puke.
My mug collection?
At least some of them were still on the shelves.But there were books strategically placed between the more mundane pieces.
As if I read books that color-coordinated with the furniture?“This isn’t my home.”
“What?”Bridget asked.She looked around.“What’s wrong with it?I think you have a nice house.”
