“Yes, the Canyon Cantina is one of my favorite places to eat,” Charley told him and was rewarded with a grin on his handsome face. “My place is walking distance from the Canyon Cantina. Since parking can be tough to find, if you’d like to go to my apartment we can park there and walk.”
“Sounds good to me,” Sully said.
They chatted as Sully drove to Colorado Springs and eventually headed across town into the Old Colorado Springs neighborhood. There, Charley directed him to her duplex. Perched on the backside of a hill, the two apartments were set up above a corner shop that opened onto a wide sidewalk of Colorado Avenue. Sully turned left onto a side street, drove up the hill, and parked his truck on one-half of a double-sized parking pad.
As Charley unplugged her cell phone, she asked, “Would you mind if we make a quick stop inside my apartment so I can brush my teeth?”
“Let’s go.”
Hopping out of her side of his truck, before he could open the door for her, Charley led the way down the short cobblestone path to her one-bedroom apartment on the left side of the duplex. She typically kept her place in good shape, so she wasn’t concerned about inviting Sully into her home. But today, as soon as she neared the door, she realized it was slightly ajar. The doorknob was askew and the lock was scratched. Pushing the door open, she stepped into the living room and Sully followed her.
“Dear Lord,” Charley whispered.
Both of her white orchids had been swept off the Formica countertop separating her living room from the kitchen. The pots had broken, scattering dirt and petals across the hardwood floor of the living room. Sofa pillows had been tossed and a wingback chair had been turned on its side. To the right of the living room, in the breakfast nook area, her peace lily plant had been pulled out of its pot by the roots and dumped onto the kitchen table. Her sweet little peacock plants lay in broken pieces on the floor and her African violet had been emptied out onto the kitchen windowsill. Without another word, she walked down a closet-length hallway and turned left into her bedroom. There, her parlor palm lay on its side in the middle of her queen-size bed. Her spider plants sat askew in their hanging, macramé baskets in front of the bedroom window.
“Who has it in for you, Charley?” Sully asked, coming up behind her and taking off his sunglasses.
She turned to him, flushed with anger and embarrassment. “I don’t know.”
“Rod Vaughn is a loose cannon, and I could see him damaging your car. Would he do this too?”
“Yes. Maybe.” Moving past Sully, Charley flipped on the bathroom light. Her shower curtains had been slashed into ribbons. “I don’t know what to think.”
“You have to call the cops.”
“No,” she said, leading the way back down the hall and into the living room.
Sully caught her arm and turned her to him. “Yes, you’re in danger, Charley.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“How?” he asked, his hands on his hips. “When you’re raped, dead, or both?”
“Sully!”
“I’m serious, Charley. My dad would say to call the cops right now.” Standing in the living room, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and made the 9-1-1 call. “What’s your address?” he asked and when she gave it to him, he relayed it to the dispatcher. Hanging up, he told her, “They’ll be here shortly.”
“Okay,” she said and nodded.
“They don’t want us to touch anything, so let’s go wait for them in my truck. Come on.” Closing her front door, they first checked the unoccupied apartment next door. It was undamaged. In the truck, Sully rolled the windows down and they waited for the police to arrive.
“This all started right after I met Rod Vaughn,” Charley admitted without prompting while staring at the duplex.
“What started? Vaughn pressuring you?”
“Yes. I met Rod at work when he came in to buy flowers. He said he needed to make up with his girlfriend, Kay.”
“You work as a florist?”
“Yes, at Fleming Flowers, the flower and plant shop directly underneath this duplex. I’m a nature lover and have a degree in horticulture.”
“That makes sense,” he said, having seen the variety of plants in her apartment. “No wonder you knew so much about columbines.”
“My mother owned and worked in the flower shop all my life.” Charley felt her eyes grow wide with dawning. “I’ll bet the shop looks worse than my apartment.”
“Might as well go take a look,” Sully said.
They left the truck where it was parked. Walking down the hill and around the side of the building, they passed a plate-glass window boastingFleming’s Flowers, before reaching the all-glass front door. Since it was Sunday, the shop was closed, with a sign stating such on the door. Like her duplex door, the knob and lock were damaged. Charley knew before she looked, that didn’t bode well for her shop. Indeed, as she pushed open the door, she found the cute little place in shambles. Plants and flowers lay in broken disarray from one end of the shop to the other.
