“The police will do that.” Ashley puffed out a breath. “Thank God you weren’t home last night, Vienna. I know you’re probably feeling angry and sick to your stomach, but whatever they took can be replaced. You can’t be.”
As she left to make Dane coffee, he settled on the sofa beside me and slid his arm around my shoulders. He didn’t say anything to comfort me. Didn’t need to. I felt better just having him, all solid and strong and steady, right there with me. Which was dangerous. Worrying. Annoying.
Soon, Ashley returned and went into a full-blown rant about how many “thieving little bastards” roamed the streets these days. It was during that that the police finally arrived.
The officer who took my statement was sharp, respectful, and thorough. He also seemed a little intimidated by Dane, who stayed beside me while I was questioned, watching the officer with that unblinking stare.
“What happens now?” asked Dane.
Officer Griffin straightened in his seat. “We’ll look for fingerprints and footprints, conduct some door to door enquiries, and check the footage from the building’s security cameras. If we’re lucky, we might be able to ID the culprit. But I can’t say I’m hopeful. We’ve had a string of burglaries in the area recently—the thieves have been careful not to leave evidence of themselves behind.” He looked at me. “I’d like it if you could walk through your apartment with me and tell me what you think is missing.”
“I’m coming with her,” Dane declared.
Griffin nodded. “That’s fine.”
Still feeling somewhat dazed, I followed Griffin into my apartment. As I got my first look at the mess that the burglar had left behind, I wanted to cry. There wasn’t a lot of damage, mostly just pure chaos. But the things littering the floor were my things. They might simply be books, cosmetics, clothes, and cushions, but they had value to me.
“Looks like they were going to take the TV but then struggled to carry it,” mused Griffin.
I had to agree. The widescreen TV had been taken off the wall but then dumped a few feet away with wires still attached to it. It was possible that it had been accidentally dropped, because there was a long crack running through the screen.
“Do you have any other electronics that might have been taken?” Griffin asked me. “Laptops? Tablets? Phones? Video consoles?”
“I had my laptop, tablet, and phone with me during my trip,” I replied. “I don’t own a video console.”
With Dane close behind me, I continued walking through my apartment, checking every room, almost choking on anger.
“All the obvious places that someone might hide money have been searched,” said Dane, peering into my open sock drawer, which had quite clearly been rummaged through.
“I don’t hide clumps of cash in my apartment.”
Griffin settled his hands on his belt. “What about credit cards? Your passport? Any other forms of ID?”
“I took my passport, driver’s license, and credit cards with me to Vegas.” I yanked open my closet door, and my heart sank. “Looks like whoever broke in thought they could sell my clothes.” Bundles of it were missing, including the gown I wore to the gala. Several pairs of my shoes were gone, along with some bags and purses. I hissed out a breath.
“What about firearms?” asked Griffin. “Do you own any that could have been taken?”
“No. My large suitcase is missing. It was probably used to carry most of what had been stolen.” Glancing at the pretty porcelain bowl on my vanity desk, I sighed. “My cheap jewelry is gone.” None of the pieces had been real gold or silver—just accessories for me to wear while clubbing so I didn’t have to worry about losing them.
I took my keys from my purse, pushed aside my nightstand, and bent down to the plug socket there.
“What are you doing?” asked Dane.
I didn’t answer. I inserted a key into the top right earth hole of the socket and twisted it sharply. There was a brief snick, and then I pulled open the white cover, which was actually a door to a hidden safe.
“Clever,” said Griffin.
“My foster father bought it for me online and installed it.” I carefully checked the contents. “Everything’s in there, including my real jewelry and spare set of car keys.”
A look in the bathroom cabinet confirmed that all the prescription drugs had been stolen. It was lucky that I’d taken my migraine medication with me on my trip. I didn’t have migraines often, but when I did … well, they were horrible.
Finally done searching the apartment, I rubbed at my arms. “So what now?” I asked Griffin.
“As I told your husband, we’ll search for evidence and make some enquiries. You’ll be kept updated. My contact details are on here.”
I took the small card he held out. “Thank you.”
After a few more minutes of speaking with us, the officer walked away.