on the lights in the living room. “Shit. What the fuck happened here?” he said, echoing my thoughts. “I don’t suppose you left it this way?”
I stared blankly, trying to take it in. My mind kept fighting me. Finally I said, “No. I may not be Martha Stewart around the house, but I usually manage to keep the cushions on the sofa and the TV off the floor.”
“You stay here. I’ll check the rest of the place.”
No argument from me. If whoever had done this was still here, I was in no hurry to meet him. A minute later he was back. “It’s the same upstairs. The stuff I keep in your guest room is all there. You’ll have to check your room and see if anything is missing. Come on.”
I followed him reluctantly. When I got to my bedroom door I froze, sucker-punched again, even though I was expecting what I saw. My comforter and sheets had been ripped from the bed and strewn on the floor, my clothing yanked from hangers in the closet, my underwear pulled out of my dresser drawers. Bile crept into my throat at the thought of some stranger handling my intimate apparel.
Billy laid a hand gently on my neck. “Hey, you okay?”
I wasn’t, but I nodded anyway. “Why would somebody do this?” On top of everything that happened in the Bahamas, it seemed a little much to just be bad luck.
“Obviously whoever did it thought you had something he wanted.”
“But I don’t have anything. My furniture is all secondhand. My TV and stereo are crap. I don’t even have any good jewelry.”
“How about a computer?”
“My laptop!” I rushed to the desk and rustled beneath the scattered papers. “It’s gone.”
“Anything vital on it?”
Say, like backup copies of confidential client files? Oops. “Uh, no, of course not. Well, maybe a few … never mind, it doesn’t matter. It’s password protected.”
Billy snorted. “Oh, now we can rest easy. Please don’t tell me you used the security software that came with it.”
“Of course not—I’m not stupid. Mark set something up for me when I got it.”
“Should be okay then.” Approval, if somewhat grudging.
I looked around at the mess, trying to survey it dispassionately. “What do we do now? Call the police?”
“No. We’ll call Mark and let the spooks handle it. I suspect whatever this is, it’s more up their alley. Besides, I’d prefer Mark to run interference between us and anyone official. But first let’s look around and figure out what else is missing.”
After a thorough search, I said, “My diary.”
“The green suede one, or the cute little pink one with unicorns?”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten under my breath. “Green,” I ground out. I hadn’t used the pink one since middle school, which I was sure he knew darn well.
“Well, you shouldn’t keep a diary if you don’t want people to find it,” he said, without an ounce of shame. “Anyway, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. If I couldn’t decipher your mumbo-jumbo, I doubt our thief can.” That was some consolation, at least. I’d developed my own secret code at an early age. Growing up with three brothers and a very annoying pseudo-cousin will drive you to extremes to ensure some privacy.
“It’s not like I wrote anything important in it, anyway.” Unless you think schoolgirl fantasies about a certain spook are important.
Billy wanted to make the call, but I told him it was my condo so I should be the one to do it. Mark answered after the first ring, sounding alert in spite of the late hour. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Somebody broke into my condo, trashed the place, and took my laptop.”
“Shit. Is Billy still with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Put him on.”
“No. You can talk to me.”
“Ciel, I need to ask—”
“Ask me ,” I insisted.
“Never mind. I want the both of you out of there now. Tell Billy I said to use full caution. You know where I am.” Click . Didn’t anybody say good-bye anymore?
“Well?”
“We’re supposed
I stared blankly, trying to take it in. My mind kept fighting me. Finally I said, “No. I may not be Martha Stewart around the house, but I usually manage to keep the cushions on the sofa and the TV off the floor.”
“You stay here. I’ll check the rest of the place.”
No argument from me. If whoever had done this was still here, I was in no hurry to meet him. A minute later he was back. “It’s the same upstairs. The stuff I keep in your guest room is all there. You’ll have to check your room and see if anything is missing. Come on.”
I followed him reluctantly. When I got to my bedroom door I froze, sucker-punched again, even though I was expecting what I saw. My comforter and sheets had been ripped from the bed and strewn on the floor, my clothing yanked from hangers in the closet, my underwear pulled out of my dresser drawers. Bile crept into my throat at the thought of some stranger handling my intimate apparel.
Billy laid a hand gently on my neck. “Hey, you okay?”
I wasn’t, but I nodded anyway. “Why would somebody do this?” On top of everything that happened in the Bahamas, it seemed a little much to just be bad luck.
“Obviously whoever did it thought you had something he wanted.”
“But I don’t have anything. My furniture is all secondhand. My TV and stereo are crap. I don’t even have any good jewelry.”
“How about a computer?”
“My laptop!” I rushed to the desk and rustled beneath the scattered papers. “It’s gone.”
“Anything vital on it?”
Say, like backup copies of confidential client files? Oops. “Uh, no, of course not. Well, maybe a few … never mind, it doesn’t matter. It’s password protected.”
Billy snorted. “Oh, now we can rest easy. Please don’t tell me you used the security software that came with it.”
“Of course not—I’m not stupid. Mark set something up for me when I got it.”
“Should be okay then.” Approval, if somewhat grudging.
I looked around at the mess, trying to survey it dispassionately. “What do we do now? Call the police?”
“No. We’ll call Mark and let the spooks handle it. I suspect whatever this is, it’s more up their alley. Besides, I’d prefer Mark to run interference between us and anyone official. But first let’s look around and figure out what else is missing.”
After a thorough search, I said, “My diary.”
“The green suede one, or the cute little pink one with unicorns?”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten under my breath. “Green,” I ground out. I hadn’t used the pink one since middle school, which I was sure he knew darn well.
“Well, you shouldn’t keep a diary if you don’t want people to find it,” he said, without an ounce of shame. “Anyway, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. If I couldn’t decipher your mumbo-jumbo, I doubt our thief can.” That was some consolation, at least. I’d developed my own secret code at an early age. Growing up with three brothers and a very annoying pseudo-cousin will drive you to extremes to ensure some privacy.
“It’s not like I wrote anything important in it, anyway.” Unless you think schoolgirl fantasies about a certain spook are important.
Billy wanted to make the call, but I told him it was my condo so I should be the one to do it. Mark answered after the first ring, sounding alert in spite of the late hour. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Somebody broke into my condo, trashed the place, and took my laptop.”
“Shit. Is Billy still with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Put him on.”
“No. You can talk to me.”
“Ciel, I need to ask—”
“Ask me ,” I insisted.
“Never mind. I want the both of you out of there now. Tell Billy I said to use full caution. You know where I am.” Click . Didn’t anybody say good-bye anymore?
“Well?”
“We’re supposed
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