It wasn’t as though theywere going to go allCSIover a home invasion where no one had gottenhurt and it was difficult to tell if anything had been taken.
The desk, though, caught myattention as I looked over the mess from the relative safety of the kitchenarea, which was untouched. Files again. Fileseverywhere, and it mighthave been impossible to tell which ones were missing, if any.
The bookcase being knockedover struck me as weird, too. Why knock it over, knowing how much noise it’d make?
“You said you heard thefront door close,” I said, still piecing things together in my mind. I wasn’tany kind of detective, but I liked puzzles. Logan used to give me hell for howmuch time I spent playing puzzle games on my phone.
“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure ifthat was whoever it was coming or going,” Miles said behind me. The scent ofcoffee grounds hit my nose as he opened the pack, strong enough to make mewince.
“But they were going, right?You didn’t hear anything after that.”
“I didn’t,” he said.
“So… how did you not hearthe bookcase falling? And why did they knock it over at all?”
“I think the bookcase waswhat woke me,” Miles explained. “I… as far as knocking it over goes, I guessthey were looking for a safe?”
“Isthere a safe?”
“Yeah, but it’s under thesofa. Which, as you can see, they didn’t even try to move. So I’m guessingtheir insider knowledge was minimal. And as much as I hate to say this, I don’tthink it was random.”
The telltale sound of aceramic mug hitting the floor and shattering cut off any response I might havebeen about to make. I turned to see Miles staring at the broken remains of whathad once been a cheerfully-striped mug, shoulders slumped.
My heart clenched in mychest. He wasn’tokay, and I had no idea what todoabout it. His hands wereshaking. His hands were shaking so badly he’d dropped a coffee mug,which weremadeto be easy tohang onto.
“You sit down,” I said.Taking charge in a crisis, I could do. “I’ll clean this up.”
“I…” Miles looked up at me,pretty amber eyes pleading. He glanced down at the ex-mug again, and then up atme, and then over at the front door.
Without finishing whateverhe’dbeen about to say, he rounded the counter and sat down on one of the stools.Sitting there in just pants and a shirt—no shoes, no tie—he looked impossiblyvulnerable.
Every fiber of my beingwanted to go to him, kiss the top of his head, and tell him it was all going tobe okay. Growing up like I had, my protective instincts had always been strong,and he was setting every one of them off right now. Trying desperately to keepit together, but clearly in need of a hug and someone to take care of him for awhile.
Instead, I crouched down topick up the biggest shards of ceramic and tossed them in the trash. Searchingfor a dustpan and brush turned out to be futile, and I didn’t want to haveto ask Miles where he kept his, so I dampened a piece of paper towel and usedit to pick up the smaller shards. It was a trick my mom had taught me forbroken glass.
There’d been a lot ofbroken glass when I was a kid.
By the time I was done,Miles had folded his arms in front of him and was resting his head on them. Ithought for a second he might have been crying, which probably would have beengoodfor him at this point, but no. He was breathing deeply, back rising and fallingas though he was counting the seconds between breaths.
I realized after a momentthat hewas.
This time, I wanted to reachout and stroke his hair. Or run my hand up and down his back, soothe along thefaint ridges of his spine, work the knots out of his shoulders. Anything tomake him feel better. Anything to remind him that life went on, and as long ashe was alive, that was all that mattered.
But he was myclient,notmy goddamn boyfriend, and I couldn’t.
A knock on the door made usboth jump.
“Sacramento PD,” a womancalled through it. “Got a report.”
“I’ll get it,” I said,seeing the haunted look on Miles’ face as he looked over at the door. It seemedto ease up once he knew he wasn’t going to have to answer it, and I was proudof myself for that.
He might not have been myboyfriend, but it was still my job to make his life a little easier.
If that was all I could dofor him, that was okay for now.
NINE
MILES
