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When the door banged again, she inspected the locking mechanism. The latch was broken, as she suspected, but the freshly splintered area around it was concerning. The door continued to bounce open and closed from the wind.
“Hey, Morgan!” Bash called. “Can you come here? I think I’ve got the water in the bathroom working.”
“Coming,” she called, but stopped short when she noticed two sets of footprints leading into the bedroom where she had put her luggage.
“Bash!” she screamed. Her clothes and toiletries were strewn all over the floor, luggage upside-down.
He came running down the hall and stopped, eyes following her gaze. “Well, shit. I don’t suppose you had a hard time finding something to wear tonight?”
She stared at him. Horrified.
“Sorry. Bad joke. Is anything missing?”
Morgan walked over to her carry-on and found the zip compartment where she kept her cash. Then she searched under the bed but found nothing amiss. “The $500 I withdrew from the bank before I left home is still here, and my phone is on the nightstand. Neither were hard to miss.”
“What about your laptop and handbag? I’m assuming you have those.”
She pulled a mini leather credit card holder out of her pocket and held it up with her electronic car key. “I had my credit card, driver’s license, insurance card, and keys with me. Pops taught me a long time ago to never leave any identification, luggage tags, or car keys in my room when I was out of town. My laptop is in the trunk of my car.”
“Your grandfather was a cautious man.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” she said, blowing out an exaggerated breath.
“Give me your keys. I’ll be right back,” he said, holding out his hand. Then he noticed the floors. “Guess it was too dark to see all these tracks when we came in.”
He stopped to inspect the lock on the front door that was still bouncing from the wind. Slowly shaking his head, he stepped out into the night. A few minutes later, Morgan heard the car door close, and then the trunk slam shut. When Bash came back inside, he was carrying her blue flowered backpack that held her laptop. She sighed with relief.
“The passenger window is busted, but the glove compartment is still locked. So was the trunk. Maybe they heard us coming and fled.”
“By the look of these tracks, there were two of them,” she said. “What could they possibly want with me? If it was burglary, why didn’t they take my money and cell phone?”
“I don’t know. The television isn’t too bad either,” he said, motioning to the 54” flat screen.
He rubbed his chin for a couple of seconds and turned to look at her. “Did you have a fight with your boyfriend? An ugly break-up? An angry parent whose kid didn’t get an A in finger painting?” he suggested flippantly.
Just when she thought her day had taken a turn for the better, it had all gone to poop, and she didn’t need Mr. Moody insulting her or her profession. She would find a way to deal with it. She always did.
Glancing up at him, she plastered on her warmest smile. “You know what, Mr. Bartoli? You have done more than enough tonight. I can’t impose upon you any further. I’ve got it from here. Thank you for getting my utilities on. And for that delicious meal. If you don’t mind, tomorrow morning, I would like to use the landline phone in the house to call for a tow. This trip just wasn’t meant to be.” She wondered if he noticed the more formal usage of his name. It didn’t matter. His irritation with her was clear.
Bash furrowed his brow as he scrutinized her. “You don’t even have a lock on the door. It won’t even fuckin’ close,” he said with annoyance.
“If you leave that little tool kit, I’ll fix it right up. And I can always put a chair under the handle. Have a good evening,” she tried to hint, but he didn’t move.
“They already broke the door. It sure as hell wouldn’t be hard to break in a window.”
“This is my problem, Mr. Bartoli. You wanted a nice private vacation, and all I’ve done is disrupt it by inviting myself into your home-away-from-home. As soon as the morning rolls around, I’ll be a distant memory.”
She wished he would just go before her disappointment got the better of her, but it wasn’t hard to read the indecision on his face. She was offering him a graceful way out. Then she recognized it. Observed it on her kindergartener’s faces every day when they realized they had hurt someone’s feelings. He was feeling guilty about walking away and washing his hands of the whole matter, even though that was exactly what he wanted to do. At least he had a conscience. That was good to know. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.
His eyes flipped back and forth between Morgan and the busted door a few times before he walked back into her bedroom. She followed. He turned her luggage right-side up and set it on the bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Either you repack your bag, or I will. I’m not leaving you here unprotected after a break-in. If you want to leave in the morning after you get your car towed out of the mud, that’s fine. There is plenty of room in the house, as I’m sure you are aware. Please get your shit in the bag, and let’s get out of here. For all we know, whoever broke in is watching us right now. It’s a good thing I locked and set the alarm on the house before we left.”
“I didn’t leave the door unlocked,” she said with a touch of defensiveness.
“I know.”
