“You don’t wanna know,” she said grimly. “You ready?”
Damn, this girl was tough. I guess that was a prerequisite if you worked with chain saws all day.
“I’m ready,” I said.
“ ’Kay, we’re going in.”
I nodded firmly. “Let’s roll.”
She used her foot to push the door open and we walked inside. Or tried to, anyway.
I groaned. “No, no, no.”
“Shit, man. This place is a mess.”
That was putting it mildly. My studio was a shambles. Tools and brushes were scattered every which way on the worktables and the floor. Paper was torn and thrown everywhere. Piles of marbled endpapers and rolls of cloth and leather used for making new book covers were tossed across the room. Hundreds of spools of thread that had been neatly sorted by color and size into narrow shelves on the walls above the wide sideboard that ran the length of the room were now skewed every which way all over the floor.
“Oh no!” My carefully mapped diagrams and pieces of the medical treatises I’d been working on were shredded and tossed on the floor. I took one step into the room to rescue my work, but Suzie pulled me back by the collar of my jacket.
I fell against her and she wrapped me in a hug. “Easy, girl. Let the police take care of that.”
“But it’s all ruined.” Tears stung my eyes. I was so angry. Who would do this? But I knew, and I literally felt my blood run cold.
“Let’s make sure they aren’t hiding somewhere,” Suzie whispered. “Then we’ll call the police.”
“No, let’s call the police first.”
“Yeah, okay.”
I was shaking badly and probably sinking into a state of shock so I handed my cell phone to Suzie.
“They’ll be a while,” she said after ending the call.
“Okay. I’m going inside.”
“I’m right with you.”
But I allowed Suzie to take the lead as we moved furtively inside, then down the hall to my living area. I knew it was bad when Suzie tried to block my view.
“I need to see.” I broke from her grip and took a step into the living room. The first impression was of complete disaster. The heavy glass coffee table was upended but not shattered, thank God. Sofa pillows were tossed on the floor and magazines were scattered about.
Then I saw the delicate ceramic vase smashed on the floor. Robin had made it for me as a housewarming gift.
“Bastards,” I mumbled. We looked in both bedrooms, but there was no obvious damage back there. On more careful inspection, there was not much damage anywhere but the studio. Nothing appeared to be out of place or missing.
Whatever the burglar had been looking for, he’d apparently confined his destructive spree to my studio. Had he been scared off too soon? Maybe he’d seen my car pull up and escaped as I was talking to my dad. I scowled at the thought that I might’ve caught him in the act if I’d only come upstairs a few minutes sooner.
Of course, I might’ve been dead by now if I’d come home sooner.
As Suzie looked around, I felt my eyes water. This had to be the last straw in a truly sucky day.
First, the confrontation at lunch with Ian, then finding Enrico’s body-after spending time in a dark closet with another intruder who turned out to be Derek, then being stalked by yet another intruder who turned out to be Ian.
I couldn’t forget almost getting caught by Minka at Enrico’s, then her surprise smack-down, followed by the summons to show up at Homicide headquarters to be interrogated. Oh, and being left to wait alone for two hours while my mother was being arrested for a murder she didn’t commit.
I had to wonder if my father was currently confessing to the same crime that got Mom arrested. Oh God.
And now this.
I stared at my ravaged studio. I knew I could clean it all up and put things away, but someone had been here, touching my things, creating havoc. Someone evil, who had killed two people. I could only assume he was now focused on me.
“I wonder if anyone else in the building was hit,” Suzie mused.
“I’m pretty sure this was personal, but we should-”
Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall. Suzie shrieked and clutched my arm, then cursed out loud when Vinnie stepped into the room.
“Mercy, Brooklyn!” Vinnie cried as she grabbed my other arm. “You are all right?”
“I thought I told you to stay put,” Suzie shouted, as she jerked my arm possessively.
Vinnie’s eyes narrowed on her. “You are not the boss of me.”
Suzie shot back, “Well shit, somebody ought to be.”
Vinnie pulled me closer. “You are disturbing Brooklyn with your foulness of speech.”
“No, it’s okay,” I said, easing away from both of them. I’d never seen them bicker before and didn’t want to be the cause of it now. And gads, my arms were starting to hurt. “We’re all a little shaken.”
“Did you lock our door?” Suzie asked in a slightly more subdued tone.
“Of course, you silly squirrel,” Vinnie said crossly.
I traded looks with Suzie. We burst out laughing and I grabbed both of them in a fierce hug.
“Thank you for being here,” I said. “I’m so lucky to have you as my neighbors.”
“We are the lucky ones,” Vinnie said.
“Cops should be here any minute,” Suzie said.
Despite her warning, at the sound of another set of footsteps tapping against the wood floor, Vinnie yelped and threw herself into Suzie’s arms.
Robin entered cautiously, clutching a brown grocery bag. She wore high-heeled boots that made her appear a foot taller, a red cashmere sweater and black pants.
“What the hell is going on here?” she asked, looking around at the damage. Then she focused in on the worst of it. “Oh, shit. My vase.”
“I know, I’m so sorry,” I said miserably.
“It is not her fault,” Vinnie said staunchly. “There has been a burglary. We have barely escaped with our lives.”
Robin looked at me, puzzled. I shook my head. “It’s not that bad.”
“But it could have been,” Vinnie insisted. “We are all in mortal danger.”
“No,” I insisted. “Your place is safe. I’m certain this was a deliberate attack on me.”
“That sucks,” Suzie said.
“I’m so sorry, Brooklyn,” Vinnie said.
“It’s okay,” I assured them. “The police will sort it all out.”
“You’re staying at my house tonight,” Robin said, then held up the brown bag. “I brought wine. I’ll pour you a drink while we wait for the police.”
I was surprised to see Inspector Lee show up at the door with two uniformed officers. They walked into the studio, carefully skirting the mess. One cop pulled out a small digital camera and started taking pictures. The other had a clipboard and began to write up a report.
Inspector Lee took out her cell phone and made a call, then joined me and the girls at the bar that separated my kitchen from the living room.
Lee raised an eyebrow as Robin offered her a glass of wine.
“Thanks but no thanks.” She turned to me. “Fingerprint guys are on their way. You want to tell me what happened?”
She wrote in her small leather notebook as I talked. Since I’d just finished relating the whole story to Robin and my neighbors, they all took turns jumping in to fill in any details I’d forgotten.
Lee finally held up her hand to stop the chatter. “Is anything missing?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “Nothing seems to be missing back here, but I haven’t checked the studio yet. I didn’t want to disturb anything before the police had a chance to do, you know, whatever they need to do.”
“I know,” Vinnie piped up. “They will diligently search for fibers and hairs that may reveal the DNA of the perp, then dust for fingerprints, which will later be processed through IAFIS to find a match. After this, they will go door-to-door in the building and around the neighborhood, conducting interviews in order to find any eyewitnesses, but no one will come forward to squeal like a pig.”
Inspector Lee frowned at her.