“Not that I know of.”
“All right then. Townsend here will see to the prints, and I’ll check for other evidence. It’ll take a while, so you may wish to call your insurance company in the interim to set up an inspection.”
She took his advice, and went into the hallway to call the insurance company on her cell. After a wait on hold, she got connected to an adjuster who said he’d send an outside person to her house about noon the next day to check the damage.
After she’d hung up, questions and doubts swirled through her mind. She couldn’t think of anyone who’d be angry enough to wreck her house. Sure, Roman had been displeased about her revelation and decision to keep the child, but he had no need to resort to such tactics as tearing her house apart when all he had to do was withhold her pills to get even. Not only that, the timing was way off. He couldn’t possibly have gotten all this arranged on such short notice.
So, who had done this, and why? Could it be a misguided individual who’d seen her commercials and didn’t approve, or a random act from a drug crazed person?
Willowby of the gray temples joined her, interrupting her introspection. She filled him in on what the insurance adjuster had said.
He nodded. “Fine. Let me know if he needs anything and I’ll place it at his disposal.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“No problem. The electronic age does have its advantages. Sure you don’t know anyone who might have done this?”
“No, it’s a mystery to me. Whatever I come up with seems way off base.”
“Tell me anyway, just in case.”
She reiterated her role in promoting Forever Young, but didn’t include her conversation with Roman. That connection seemed too farfetched.
“It’s possible someone traced your whereabouts to your home. People have seen your face and you’re popular, which could make you a target. Who knows the workings of criminal minds. They constantly tend to surprise me, though by now they shouldn’t. I’ve seen almost everything.”
“Maybe it was jealousy. I don’t claim to be Miss America or anything, but the person who did this and chased me in my car had a horrid face, unless he or she was wearing a mask.”
“Hmm, I see mention of that in the report. It’s possible.”
“There are so many nuts out there. One of them ran over my husband in a parking lot in November. The person didn’t even stop to see if Larry was all right, but just sped away.” She shivered at the memory.
He shook his head. “We run into that sort of thing all the time. Human decency is a lost commodity. I’m sorry for your experience. My condolences to you on your husband’s death. Now, I know with all this mess here it won’t be easy, but why don’t we take a gander and see what valuables are missing.”
“I’m kind of afraid to look, but I may as well get it over with.”
With Officer Willowby beside her, Dorrie walked down the hall to the living room. Fighting back tears, she avoided the couch stuffing and the shattered bits of dear objects haphazardly strewn about the floor, end tables and other areas.
Swallowing hard, she picked up the broken pieces of the mother and daughter Lladro figurine which Mom had ordered as a Christmas present a few years back. Knowing that even in Mom’s condition she’d made the effort to find something nice for her daughter had meant a lot to Dorrie. Now the cherished gift lay in shards.
She brushed tears from her eyes, but more followed as she spied the remains of Larry’s last birthday gift to her, a Hummel of a boy and girl which he’d seen her admire at the gift shop and had snuck back later to buy. The statue was hopelessly destroyed, as was her husband.
Sure, insurance might cover the costs of the items she’d held dear, but replacement of such mementos would never be the same as the originals. Their destruction didn’t make sense. Even someone not a connoisseur of collectables could guess these items held resale value.
She took another swipe at her eyes and continued with the inspection. The family room she’d fled from before showed more elements of destruction. Swallowing hard, she took in the broken glass of the television screen, plus the gouged cushions and chairs. The photos from her albums lay torn in tiny pieces on the floor. Those were items she could never replace. A sick feeling settled in her stomach at thought of what she’d lost.
Willowby gave a low whistle. “Seems the perp had an ax to grind. Good thing you got away.”
Dorrie swallowed hard and nodded. She had no idea why anyone would hold such a grudge against her, but the evidence was clear.
Upstairs in the bedroom, more destruction awaited her, with the mattress ripped, bedding partially torn and thrown across the floor. Dresser drawers were flung every which way, leaving bras, panties and other personal items in plain view of the detective’s eyes. The burglar had seen them also, an even more disturbing possibility.
On top of one pile, her broken jewelry box rested. She bent down to see if anything from inside had been spared. Surprisingly, her dress watch, favorite necklace and rings lay unblemished, as did the charms and earrings.
Every piece of jewelry appeared accounted for and left intact. Strange, you’d think he or she would have grabbed them to pawn or give away. Perhaps the burglar had been too impatient to bother with such small items, or possibly he’d been looking at them when she arrived home.
An examination of other bedroom belongings confirmed everything to be either in the wrong place or broken, yet nothing appeared missing.
She proceeded downstairs to the kitchen desk. Papers lay everywhere, but gone were the notebook computer and the CDs she’d used as backup. More precious photos of Larry and Mom were gone. She’d thought she’d been through crying, but fresh tears welled up. “I can’t believe this.”
Officer Willowby turned to her. “Don’t worry. Insurance should get you a new computer, probably a better model.”
“Insurance can’t buy the pictures and memories they represent. They’re gone, like they never existed, along with the financial records I’ll need to reconstruct. I wish I’d gotten around to backing them all up online, but I thought the CDs were enough.” Her voice trembled at thought of what she’d lost.
“Are you all right, Miss?” the officer asked.
Taking a tremulous breath, she said, “I don’t really know. This whole thing is such a shock. I’ve never had anyone mad at me like this before.”
An understatement to be sure. It chilled her to realize that same mean person had been right here in her home when she’d stepped inside. Anything could have happened to her or the baby. Thank God, she’d made it out in time.
Shivering, she glanced at what had turned into an alien landscape. Her home was no longer a haven. Would it be safe to stay here once the police had left?
The officer waited patiently for her to recover, so they could continue with the inspection. Taking a deep breath, she moved her suddenly wooden legs toward the downstairs bathroom. There couldn’t be anything there worth destroying.
Apparently the burglar thought otherwise, judging from the broken mirror of her compact which she barely avoided stepping on. Mascara and eye liners lay beside it, with the tops thrown into the toilet. Her lipsticks, broken into halves and other dimensions, littered the sink and ceramic floor.
The detective raised his eyebrows. “Not your garden variety crook. Definitely a frustrated perp.”
“Thank goodness this is the last room. I can’t take any more of this.”
She handed the paper to the officer. “Here’s my list. I don’t think I’ve missed anything, but I can’t tell for sure. It’s hard to think with all this going on.”
“As we discussed, I’ll be sure to email a copy of the report, digital photos and other items to the insurance company,” he said, as they left the room.
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
They re-entered the living room.
“Townsend, how are the prints coming along?”
“Done. Let’s hope the perp
didn’t wear gloves, though I suspect otherwise. Not many differing prints.”
Willowby nodded, then turned to Dorrie. “Given we don’t have a clear physical description, you say a Taurus followed you, but you couldn’t get a plate number, unless we get a good match on the prints, this case will be tough to crack. We’ll do our best, but I can’t promise you anything. For safety’s sake and your own peace of mind, I’d advise your staying elsewhere until you invest in a new deadbolt.”
She nodded in agreement.
“Once Townsend gets the rest of the photos done, we’ll be on our way. After the insurance adjuster comes along, you have our permission to start the cleanup. I’ll advise you of any leads.”
“Thanks, officers, I appreciate your assistance. My cell phone will be on if you need to reach me. Let me know, please, if you find anything, no matter how small.”
Willowby nodded. “We’ll do our best, Miss.”
As soon as she’d shut the door behind the officers, ominous silence greeted her. It had to be late.
A glance at her watch surprisingly showed it was only past seven. So much had gone on, she’d thought it would be later. What a horrific day. First, she’d had to deal with breaking the news about the baby to Roman, then this unholy mess. She couldn’t take any more.
Fighting an urge to plunk down and engage in a bout of wailing, she instead searched for where she’d put her purse. It had to be around somewhere. She had no intention of staying in this place any longer than necessary. Any minute the nut who’d made this horrible mess might pop back inside.
Dorrie found her handbag on the end table at the end of the hallway. She must have put it there after calling the insurance company. Now she had to make another call. She should have done so sooner, while the police were still present, but her mind had shut down somewhere between Roman’s attitude and finding the house ransacked. Right now, she craved sleep and would do almost anything to get it, except stay here.
After Dorrie explained what had happened, Kelly said, “Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll pick you up, lend you a nightgown, whatever you need.”
“I’m capable of driving. I’ll be right there.”
She left the lights on and immediately jumped into her Hyundai. As she drove out of the garage and onto the street, she glanced in the rear view mirror, but this time no one followed her. Even so, she couldn’t get away fast enough. Though an innocent victim, she still felt like a criminal on the lam. How long would the paranoid feeling last?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Kelly met Dorrie at the door and led her into their family room where a dark haired hunk lay sprawled on a chocolate colored couch in front of the television. So that’s why Kelly preferred her husband home instead of working at night.
He stood up. She reached to shake his hand. “This must be the elusive Doug. You’re usually on duty when I come over.”
“That’s me. I’m the culprit,” he said with a friendly smile.
Kelly placed her hand on Dorrie’s shoulder. “I told Doug what happened, and he’s volunteered to join us tomorrow for the cleanup brigade.”
“Thanks,” Dorrie said, stifling a yawn at thought of the massive undertaking awaiting her.
Taking note, her friend said, “You have to be exhausted. I’ll get you situated for bed.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that. You don’t know the half of what went on today. I’ll clue you in later.”
Mid morning on Tuesday, after a fortifying breakfast of ham, eggs and toast cooked by Kelly, Dorrie sat in the front seat beside her friend, while Doug drove the moving van he’d managed to reserve at the last minute. The cheerful music emanating from the radio counterbalanced the seriousness of the situation.
Dorrie dreaded what awaited her at the home she’d fled from the night before. Frowning, she wondered how anyone could hate her so much as to violate her space. Had the actions been random or intended? Either way seemed too distressing to ponder.
She would not think dark thoughts, but instead concentrate on the enormous chore of getting the house back in order. Fortunately, she’d not face the task alone.
They pulled into her driveway and stepped out, with Doug right behind them.
Dorrie stopped suddenly right before the door.
“Don’t you have your keys,” Kelly asked.
“I’m sorry. My mind’s off in different directions. I just remembered I didn’t call Roman to tell him I can’t be in today.”
“Darn, I didn’t call in either.”
They dialed out from their cell phones. Fortunately, Dorrie got voice mail, so she didn’t have to speak to Roman in person. She left a brief description of what had happened, and promised to be in the next day. Maybe he’d think she was lying and had made up the story. If so, she’d show him a few pictures to convince him.
“What about those keys now, Dorrie?” Doug reminded her, with a smile.
“Sure, they’re here in my purse somewhere.”
Doug gave a mock groan. “Oh, no. I hope you don’t have a black hole in there, like Kelly, or we may as well leave and come back tomorrow after you’ve found them.”
Dorrie knew he was trying to cheer her up and she appreciated his effort. She dug into the side pocket of her handbag and finally was rewarded by the feel of cold metal on her fingertips. Triumphantly, she jangled the keys in the air. “Here they are. Please don’t leave, kind officer. I really need your help.”
“Glad to be of service, Miss”
Kelly patted her on the back. “That goes for me, too. Remember, you’re not alone. We’re your friends.”
“Thanks, Kelly. I owe you one. No, really more like ten. This will be a major undertaking.”
When they stepped into the living room, Doug frowned. “It looks like a family of wolves made camp.”
They picked their way around the mess and discussed what needed doing. Before long the doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the insurance adjuster. He surveyed the damage, took his own photos, and assured Dorrie she’d get reimbursed.
After he’d left, Doug measured and checked the doors to see what locks to pick up, and then set off for the hardware store. While he was gone, she and Kelly started picking up and cleaning up.
They hadn’t even made it through the kitchen when Doug returned. He set to work installing the deadbolts, while she and Kelly continued in their efforts. Much had been broken beyond repair and had to be discarded. They swept, vacuumed, and straightened what was left. Before long, Doug joined them.
By afternoon, the house looked decent enough for them to set off for replacements. In deference to the upcoming arrival of her baby, Dorrie decided to be frugal and look for reasonably priced items which matched the drapes and carpeting already in place.
They trooped to a nearby furniture store, where Dorrie found two suitable couches, plus a comfy looking mattress for the bed. After those were loaded into the van, they headed to the department store where Dorrie picked out new dishes, glasses and a television set.
Once everything was hauled inside, Doug went down the hall to set up the bedroom while she and Kelly set to work again on the kitchen.
On the stool by the cabinets, Dorrie turned to Kelly who stood beneath her. “Doug seems like a really nice guy. It’s so sweet the way he looks at you.”
“He’s a darling. As soon as I saw him, I knew he was the one,” Kelly said, smiling smugly. She handed over a clean dish to Dorrie for the top shelf.
“That’s the way it was with me and Larry, too. At the time, I’d been dating this nice guy named Steve, whom I really liked. Then one day his brother, Keith, had this barbecue where he introduced me to his best friend, Larry. One look and I forgot all about Steve. I still feel sorry for dumping him, but I had no choice. One good thing, the friendship between Keith and Larry could have made the situation awkward; but Steve, being the great guy he is, wished me and Larry the best of luck. He’s still a friend, though I feel kind of awkward around him.”
Thinkin
g of Steve made her sad. It seemed everything worthwhile carried a price.
“Well, hopefully, in time you’ll find someone else again, maybe someone like your friend, Steve. I know the new one can’t be Larry, but maybe he’ll be special in his own right.”
Dorrie shook her head. “I don’t know. The situation is really complicated, considering I’m a real handful now. Remember, I’m actually fifty-five, masquerading as a twenty-four year old.”
“You never know, Dorrie, stranger things have happened. Lots of people get second chances at love. As far as the age difference is concerned, who can tell what the future might bring. Maybe by then lots of people will be taking the young pill and your concerns won’t exist.”
Dishes arranged, Dorrie smiled and stepped down from the stool. “You are a hopeless romantic, Kelly, and I can see why. Hold onto Doug. He’s one of the good ones.”
“You’re darned right about that. They’d have to pry him away from me.”
“Oh, with everything else going on, I forget to tell you, Kelly, why I came home early yesterday.”
She went on to relate how she’d told Roman about her pregnancy and his disappointing reaction to the news. “I know we don’t mean anything special to each other. It was only a one-night stand, or whatever else you might call the fiasco, but to suggest destroying our child was so callous.”
“Maybe he was worried about your safety. Childbirth is dangerous at any age; and, given the circumstances of your real age, who knows what might happen.”
“That part he glossed over, saying I’d be safe if I stayed on the pill. No, he didn’t sound as concerned about me as he was about losing customers. He may be the Angel Man, but he certainly isn’t perfect.”
***
With the major work accomplished, Dorrie nodded in satisfaction at the results. The new couches looked inviting and the thick mattress on the bed even more so. She could hardly wait to collapse on it. Hopefully, the deadbolts would hold. She had a feeling once she fell asleep, she’d not awaken even if a burglar shouted in her ear.
After they celebrated with an evening pizza feast in front of the new TV, Dorrie followed her rescue crew to the door. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you two. You’re better than any Home and Garden fixer-uppers.”
Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy) Page 11
