Snapshot

by Camryn King

  “These are nice. But you definitely saved the best ones for the Star.”

  Gwen put down her phone. “Alright, enough shop talk. Let’s toast to Kennedy arriving safely back home.” They’d barely finished clinking glasses and getting through half a sip before she added, “Now, tell us what happened? How’d you get robbed?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  She told Gwen the same basic story that she’d shared with Logan, the one that omitted being naked when she woke up. Even with not being sexually assaulted, she was still too embarrassed to share that part of the story. “After wrapping up the police interview at the hotel, the manager and supervisor were brought back in and informed of what happened. We found out that there was no Jack Sutton registered at the hotel. No one at the front desk remembered anyone resembling the man I described. I’d become friendly with a guy named Hank, the concierge. He talked to absolutely everybody who walked either in or out of that lobby. He hadn’t seen him, either. Or so he said.”

  “Why’d you say it like that? Do you think he had something to do with it?”

  “I don’t know what to think. After finding my stuff gone from the room, everyone became a suspect. But in my gut, I think it was the man who called himself Jack. I think he’s an asshole who takes vacations and preys on women and steals stuff.”

  Logan nodded. “I think you’re right. The fact that he lied about being a guest says it all.”

  “So, what happens now?” Gwen asked.

  “I wait to hear from my attorney.”

  Gwen made a face. “Are you talking about Craig?”

  Kennedy laughed. Gwen hadn’t liked Kennedy’s attorney, ever since he had turned down an alcohol-induced invitation to join Gwen for a private party in her bedroom.

  “No, a Bahamian attorney. After the police left the hotel, I contacted the U. S. Embassy. Fortunately, a duty officer is available 24/7. He met with me and provided a ton of valuable information.”

  “Like what?” Logan asked.

  “He gave me an overview of how their criminal process operates. He had shortcuts to reporting my credit cards and driver’s license stolen—”

  “What about your passport?”

  “Safe, fortunately. It was in a zippered compartment of my luggage, which was unlocked. But it didn’t look like he rifled through it much.”

  “Clothes don’t sell as well as phones and laptops.”

  “Spoken like an authority, Logan.”

  “Girl, shut up.”

  Gwen ignored him. “Is that how you found your attorney?”

  “Yes. He had a list of several attorneys. I chose one who dealt primarily with my type of crime.”

  “How much faith do you have in the police conducting a thorough investigation, or in this attorney prosecuting the case if they find out Jack’s real name, or whoever did it?”

  Kennedy shrugged. “The attorney was actually out of the country, so I only spoke with him by phone, briefly, a few days ago. The police seemed concerned, focused on the details of what happened and finding out who did it. They searched the room. I think they dusted for prints and stuff. Blood was drawn to find out what was used to drug me. But I don’t hold out much hope for them finding evidence that could lead to him.”

  “They probably collected dust balls, evidence of how long it’s been since you had sex.”

  “Ha!” Kennedy gave Gwen a shove. “You have no sense at all. I feel as though I did everything I could do. Now it’s time for the authorities and the Bahamian attorney to do what they do. Thank goodness I have a habit of uploading everything to the cloud, especially my pictures, as soon as I finish a shoot, and that I sent the article in before heading out to dinner. It could lead to steadier work from the Star in the future, so having to rewrite it would have been a huge blow.”

  Gwen’s brow raised. “I think the blow is that whoever was in your room has your ID, which means they have your address and date of birth. Identity theft is a nightmare. Be sure and stay on top of your credit reports. No telling what they might try and do as you.”

  Kennedy sighed, shaking her head slightly as she reached for her wine glass. “I know.” She took a long sip. “They have my full name and DOB. But I’ve used an alternative address on driver’s licenses, checks, utilities, and stuff like that ever since reading this book that was written by the owner of a security company. So, if they try and track me down, they’ll find themselves driving into a strip mall and parking in front of Mail, Etc.”

  “I know that’s right!” Gwen and Kennedy high-fived.

  “Not that I think Jack, or whatever his name is, will do that. He’s probably more of a snatch, grab and go type of guy. Plus, he’d have to spend money to come after me and since he’s stealing, he obviously doesn’t have much of that. As for the phone, it was shut off immediately. That was the laptop used strictly for travel and work, so there wasn’t any extremely personal or confidential information on it. Like I said, I’ve done everything I can do.”

  Kennedy spotted a former colleague at the bar, a quirky Jewish guy with an encyclopedic memory and a wry sense of humor. She waved him over to join them at the table. He was the perfect solution to ending talk about work and burglaries. The four decided to stay for dinner, and afterwards went to an IMAX theater to catch the latest action flick. It was after midnight when Kennedy slipped the key into her condo lock, humming the song she’d just heard in her car. She stopped though, when the steady beeps on her security system that signaled an open door didn’t go off. Her heart seized for a second but just as quickly she threw off the notion that something was wrong. This wasn’t the Bahamas. It was Chicago. She’d lived there for a decade and dating Will was the closest she’d come to having a crime committed against her.

  “Can’t believe I didn’t set it,” she murmured, sliding the leather strap of her laptop bag off her shoulder and stopping just inside the door to take off her shoes. One would think that after what happened last weekend she’d double and triple check locks and systems. She set it, then picked up her heels by the straps and walked through the foyer and down the hallway. Reaching for the dimmer knob she turned it and increased the lighting in the modern, open concept area, then continued into the room. The living space was fine but her office, visible from where she now stood, was not the way she’d left it.

  Drawers were open.

  Papers from her desk top littered the floor.

  Her home computer, the one that did contain personal and confidential information—gone.

  Trembling, Kennedy backed out of the room, then out of her home, dialing 911.

  4

  Kennedy felt drained, robotic, as she walked the officer to the door. It was almost four in the morning—the police had taken almost two hours to respond.

  “Is there going to be an investigation of this?” she asked him.

  “We’ll file the report but honestly, not likely. Unfortunately, there are so many crimes more violent and egregious that we simply don’t have the manpower to follow up on simple burglary claims.”

  “So, if I’d been murdered during the burglary, there would be resources available to try and catch the culprit.”

  The officer looked her dead in the eye. “Yes.”

  “Thanks for being honest with me.”

  The officer placed a compassionate hand on Kennedy’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. There has been a spate of random smash and grab burglaries in the surrounding area. We have beefed up patrol, but without an eye witness or concrete evidence to work with, that’s about all we can do.”

  Kennedy closed the door and briefly leaned against it. She closed her eyes, feeling drained—mentally, physically and emotionally. Footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor and neared her. Logan had been her second call after the police. Firm hands gently pulled her away from the wall. Strong arms wrapped themselves around her. The dam of strength that had kept Kennedy cool, calm and collected from what happened in the Bahamas until now began to crumble. She laid her hea
d against Logan’s chest and allowed the tears to flow.

  “It’s okay,” he cooed, rubbing her back as he walked them back into the living room. “I got you, Kennedy. We’ll get through this. Do you hear me?”

  Kennedy nodded. She pulled away from him and sat on the couch, her knees pulled to her chest. Logan pulled a tissue from a holder on the coffee table and held it out. She took it and blew her nose.

  “I just don’t understand. Does lightning strike twice? Do I have ‘rob me’ on my forehead? What is going on?”

  Logan slowly shook his head. “I don’t know. It does seem pretty weird, though, that you’d get robbed in the Bahamas one week and then get robbed at home just a week later.” He looked at her, his eyes conveying the churning taking place in his mind. “Do you think they’re related?”

  “I don’t know what to think. It appears that once again only electronics were taken—this time my desktop. My laptop was in the car from earlier when I’d decided to work from the coffee shop near Leftovers. It’s not like I live in an exclusive neighborhood. So why was my house targeted? Did they see me leave and know that the place was empty? I just don’t get it. Nothing logical makes sense yet thinking this is mere coincidence seems illogical and unlikely.”

  “I agree. Hmm . . .”

  The two remained quiet, lost in their individual thoughts about a possible explanation for what had happened to Kennedy, not once, but twice.

  “Kennedy.” Logan’s voice was low as his eyes pierced her.

  “What?”

  “Do you think it was Will?”

  She shook her head. “Will is a lot of things but a burglar . . . I can’t see it. I also can’t think of why he’d want my desktop. He’s a gamer and has a top-of-the-line system. No, I don’t think it’s Will.”

  “What if it wasn’t about the computer? What if he wanted to do something to interfere with your career? In the Bahamas, most of what was stolen had to do with your work—camera, computer, cellphone. Last night, same thing. Work-related stuff. Maybe he’s getting back at what you did to him personally by trying to sabotage your professional career.”

  Kennedy shifted her legs and sat up, her back against the sofa. “It’s what he did to me that ended our relationship. I was always the one giving, compromising, sacrificing.” She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s him.”

  “What about another ex?”

  Kennedy pondered the question. “I can’t see anyone I’ve dated wanting my computers. Maybe it was random and I’m just having a streak of bad luck.”

  “The officer did say burglaries have increased in the neighborhood.”

  “Yeah, and I had no idea.”

  “What about a colleague? Can you think of somebody who might be angry that you got a job they thought they should have, or have it out for you for professional reasons?”

  “Right now, I’m too wiped out to think at all.”

  “I hear you. It’s late. Why don’t you go lie down, try and get some sleep?”

  “You’ve been up all night, too.” Logan’s lips took a slight upturn. “No, that’s not an invitation.”

  His smile widened.

  “Will you be okay driving home?”

  “I’m good. Will you be okay here alone?”

  “We’re about to find out.”

  Kennedy walked Logan to the door. When he turned to embrace her, she welcomed it. Independent and self-contained, Kennedy never felt she had the luxury of a shoulder to lean on or depending on a man. But given what she’d been through yet again, it felt good to be in the grasp of a man’s strong arms.

  “Call me later, alright?”

  “Okay. Thanks again, Low. I appreciate you.”

  Kennedy crawled into bed. She took tossing and turning to a new level, but managed to catch a few winks amid the chaos in her mind. When she woke up around two o’clock, she roused herself out of bed. While taking a long, hot shower she pondered the Bahamas break-in, last night’s burglary, what it all meant, and what she was going to do to stop the madness. One thing she wanted to do, but knew she couldn’t, was to call her mom. Karolyn Wade would be on the next thing smoking to Chicago waving a one-way ticket for Kennedy’s return home. She hadn’t been a fan of her moving there in the first place. “Nothing in big cities but big trouble,” she’d told her. Kennedy and her brother Karl had experienced the ease and relative security of growing up in the small Kansas town of Peyton where her mother had been born and still resided, along with Kennedy’s grandmother and much of the extended family. Karl had gone to UMKC and lived in Kansas City, Missouri’s largest city. They were two of the few who’d flown the coop and returned home only to visit—never to stay.

  Even though it wasn’t yet five o’clock, she did call Gwen. Her normally flippant friend remained quiet as Kennedy relayed last night’s events. Not even a joke when Kennedy said she’d called Logan and he’d come over and stayed through the night.

  Instead, this sincere comment when Kennedy went silent. “I’m scared for you.”

  She’d voiced the words Kennedy hadn’t dared. She was frightened, too.

  After talking to Gwen, Kennedy tried to put the burglary behind her by focusing on photos. The Bahamas spread in Sunday’s paper had generated more interest in her work. She sent digital portfolios in response to two email inquiries on her availability and fee—one for an organic farm’s marketing campaign and website, and a very promising one from the Chi-Town’s Convention and Visitor’s Bureau. Securing a position with the latter organization could mean steady work for years. She also sent a resume to a new regional publication seeking an art director. After finishing up emails checking social media and freelance sites, she filled out another Apple insurance claim and fully expected to receive a phone call from a representative suspecting fraud. If two burglaries hadn’t happened to her in less than two weeks, she wouldn’t have believed it either. Midway through filling out the online claim, the doorbell rang.

  Probably Gwen.

  Kennedy opened the door. Not Gwen.

  “Logan, hey. What are you doing back here?”

  “Taking care of business. Can I come in?”

  “Sure.”

  Kennedy stepped back and watched Logan’s long, sure strides through the foyer and down the hall, slipping off a backpack along the way. She followed behind him.

  “Did you just come from work?” Logan worked at a warehouse. Maybe there was a camera inside.

  “Naw, I was off today. Come check this out.”

  Kennedy walked over to the sofa, watching as Logan pulled out several items from the bag. “What’s all this?”

  “Security. It’s a four-camera system.” Logan looked up and around. “I think that’s enough for here.”

  “You went out and bought a security system?”

  “Well, obviously the one you have now doesn’t work.” Logan stood and began walking as he talked. Kennedy followed behind him, speechless.

  “One for your front door, the outside of course. One for the office. One for the bedroom and one for your patio. What do you think?” Into the silence he added, “or maybe we should place one in the garage, by your parking space. Yeah, I think that might be a better choice than your bedroom since to hear Gwen tell it, there’s little chance of anyone going in there.”

  Kennedy gave him a look. “Oh, my bad. I should have said, given my own experience . . .”

  She play-punched him. “Shut up!”

  Logan dodged her punch and walked back into the living room. He picked up the set of four cameras enclosed in hard plastic. “Can I get a pair of scissors?”

  “Do you really think this is necessary?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “I very much want to believe that it’s definitely not necessary. I want to believe I’ve had the uncanny luck of being targeted here just like I was in the Bahamas.”

  “I spent the day thinking about that, wondering what were the chances that someone would get robbed in a whole other country, come h
ome, and get robbed not even a week—or barely a week—after the last incident. Those odds have got to be pretty low, don’t you think?”

  Without answering, Kennedy turned around and went for the scissors.

  Two hours later, the security camera software had been downloaded to Kennedy’s laptop and her cellphone.

  “So how the video operates,” Logan said while holding the instruction booklet, “is that the device is both motion and heat sensitive. So, you can have it videoing all the time, or you can set it up to turn on only when there’s motion or heat, which is what I recommend.”

  “Why not have it going 24/7?”

  “You can, but to me that would be just filling up a lot of storage space with worthless footage. But if you have it turned to the sensors, you’ll get an alert when the video turns on.”

  “Okay, let’s do that.”

  Logan finished the setup. He handed Kennedy the instructions. “Here you go, Ken. I think you’re all set.”

  “Thank you so much, Logan. How much do I owe you for this system?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Oh, no. I want to pay you the money so I don’t end up owing you some other kind of way.”

  They both laughed.

  “I’ll send you an invoice for my services.”

  “Please do. The equipment and the installation.”

  “Girl, I’ve been trying to install my equipment ever since I met you!”

  “Boy!”

  Kennedy couldn’t ignore how good Logan made her feel. The hug at the front door was a bit longer than the last time.

  “Alright, then. I’m out.”

  “Okay, Low. See you later.” Kennedy began to close the door, then jerked it open. “Logan! Wait!”

  He turned and followed her back inside. “What is it?”

  “I just thought of something.”

  Kennedy walked into her office and over to a black file cabinet. She opened the top drawer, reached behind the folders it contained and pulled out a box.

  “Hold on to this for me.”

  Logan took it. “What is it?”

  “Insurance.” She closed the cabinet and leaned against it. “There’s a flash drive in there containing the backup of my premium photos, a digital portfolio of sellable prints I’ve either already edited or plan to.”