Across the parking lot, Victoria sat on the curb of the road, one arm around Baloo and one hand on her forehead. Jeff wanted to be with her when they broke the news about the bomb. Only a couple of hours ago she’d voiced the worry that someone wanted her dead, and he hadn’t believed her. Would any of this have been avoided if he had? The policeman assigned to her was speaking rapidly. No doubt, giving her the same lecture Jeff had just received about leaving the scene.
An hour later, the officer finally gave Jeff the okay to go into his town house. No explosives were found inside. He prayed they hadn’t missed anything. Taking the stairs, Jeff hoped his intruders hadn’t been there to rob. With his car gone, his mountain bike was his only mode of transportation, and they better have left it untouched.
What if the intruder had discovered the fire safe he kept underneath a spare blanket? The safe contained not only his important documents but also his stash of emergency cash, a total of two thousand dollars. Thanks to Uncle Dean, Jeff didn’t believe in banks for emergency uses. Emergency cash needed to be accessed in a heartbeat, not after a long line during bank business hours. It had taken Jeff a year and a half to save his emergency funds before he thought it prudent to start squirreling away toward his dream business. The seed money for that, at least, was tucked away in a savings account.
An officer walked out of his front door as Jeff took the last step onto the landing. “So far we’re under the impression that nothing was stolen. You want to confirm that before we leave?” The officer stepped back into the apartment, allowing Jeff enough room to slip through the doorway.
Sounds of footsteps behind him prompted a look over his shoulder. Drake followed him into the living room and slapped a hand on his shoulder while the officer beside Jeff wrote on a tablet. “Dude! This is nuts. They didn’t even have the decency to learn how to pick a lock. Your door is messed up, man.”
A glance confirmed Drake’s proclamation. Shards of wood splayed out from around the lock. Jeff knew what he’d be doing the rest of the day. A new door wasn’t cheap or fun to install, not to mention a new doorknob and a strong bolt would be on the list. He turned around and nodded at the officer. “Did they get any other apartments, too?”
“So far, just yours,” Drake answered. “That’s what the dude downstairs said.” Drake held up a finger. “I’m getting a phone call. Hello? Yeah, you got my text? Can you believe it?”
No, Jeff couldn’t believe it. His friend seemed to be enjoying the drama. He needed to instruct Drake to stop spreading the news among his friends. Jeff wasn’t even sure if he was telling people that Jeff knew personally, but the officer interrupted his intention. “Sir, we need you to check your room.”
Jeff followed the directive but still burned with curiosity. He entered his room with apprehension. Everything looked different, but he couldn’t pinpoint anything wrong. Perhaps it was simply the knowledge that a stranger had invaded his privacy. The navy comforter lay smooth, just as he had left it that morning. He fingered the top of the red oak dresser. Jeff had made the piece of furniture when he was seventeen years old. He knew where every nick and sloppy corner could be found within its four drawers. His comb and the small basket where he kept unrecorded receipts still sat in the middle, seemingly untouched.
He flung open the closet and breathed a sigh of relief. Underneath the thick comforter, folded neatly on the ground, sat his fire safe, untouched.
“They take your television?” The officer jotted notes on his clipboard.
“Uh, no. I don’t own a TV.”
The officer tilted his head. “Then they were after computers. I’ll need the make and model.”
Jeff spun around. “I did have a laptop. Left it in the living room.”
“Yeah, that’s gone.” The officer blinked slowly and then looked around the room. “Okay, so we know what they were after.”
Drake groaned, somehow having caught the tail end of the conversation. “That had all our skydiving video footage on it, didn’t it? Our clients are gonna freak.”
Jeff stared at the carpet. First, his car, now his laptop; it would take a long time to save up that kind of money again after paying the insurance deductibles.
“Are you sure that’s all?” the cop asked. Jeff followed the officer’s gaze around his room. With nothing on the walls, he supposed it did look bare bones to most. But the simplicity of his decor gave him plenty of room to do his morning stretching exercises before running or biking.
“Everything seems to be here,” Jeff acknowledged.
The officer nodded, and Jeff followed him back into the living room. Drake bumped into his shoulder, texting. “Drake!” Jeff often felt he needed to compete with Drake’s phone to have even the shortest of conversations. “What are you doing?”
“Texting what they took. Your computer. And that big batch of beef jerky you made yesterday. I only got to eat one piece. That was your best batch yet, and pretty pricey to make, too. Primo beef, man.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Thanks for noticing, Drake.”
“What flavor?” the cop asked.
“Jalapeño,” Drake answered for him.
The officer shook his head, jotting notes. “Animals.”
Drake held his hands out toward the officer. “This is what I’m saying. Thank you.”
Another officer walked into the apartment with Victoria at his side. “You done here?” With an official nod, the second officer directed Victoria to the couch in the living room.
“We need to ask you both a few questions.”
Jeff sank into his couch next to Victoria. Except, he felt anything but comfortable. Her eyes were brighter than usual, as if she’d been crying. He wanted to give her a hug, but it didn’t seem appropriate, and he got the sense she didn’t want any comfort from him. Victoria had always seemed to have an invisible wall up whenever they had a conversation at work, but it appeared the wall had grown stronger. He grimaced. She had come to him for help, and he hadn’t been able to fix anything.
The police interrupted his thoughts once more with their questions. He listened as Victoria repeated all that had happened over the past twenty-four hours. She included all her suspicions at work, and that’s when Jeff saw it. Skepticism was written all over the officers’ faces. Victoria turned her gaze to the ceiling.
“Why didn’t you take your suspicion to the FBI?” the lead officer pressed.
“I made an appointment for this morning,” she said, meekly. “Clearly none of this would’ve happened if I had insisted they see me yesterday, but it was almost after hours and wasn’t an emergency.”
“Who’s the appointment with?” the second officer asked.
“Agent Doug Brunson.”
The officer stood and pointed at her. “Make sure you get to that appointment.”
As the officer walked away a large hand slapped onto his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay.” Jeff looked up to see Drake hovering. “I guess there are some benefits to being poor, if all they took was a laptop.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. Why’d Drake have to say stuff like that in front of Victoria? “I’m not poor, Drake. I choose to put my money elsewhere.”
“How about you use that money to call us in some Chinese food, then? I’ll wait here while you run to the hardware store.”
“It’s only nine in the morning,” Jeff responded, but his stomach betrayed him by choosing that moment to growl.
“See what I’m saying?” Drake pointed at Jeff while he walked backward to his kitchen. “I’ll find us some grub.” Drake’s phone vibrated, and he automatically answered. “Yeah, Dude. Bomb squad and