Kohl stood outside her apartment all of two seconds before he knocked twice.
She opened the door immediately.
“Can I see you tomorrow night?”
A dazzling smile lit up her face. “Yes.” Then she shut and locked the door again.
He went back to his bike and headed home. He’d fill in the Master tomorrow night. Tonight, he was keeping her to himself.
Chapter 8
Devon stopped at the store to pick up a few groceries and made it back to her place with lots of time to get ready for her date. All she needed was a shower, a change of clothes, and a little sweet almond oil on her hair when she took it down to refresh her curls. She used to spend a lot more time and money on her hair, but with her recent “fuck it all” attitude she’d adopted, she’d let it grow out natural for the first time in…longer than she could remember. And she was surprised to discover she really liked her own hair.
A bag in each arm, she climbed the stairs to her second floor apartment and entered the interior hallway. Her place was about halfway down, and as Devon approached, she slowed her steps. Her door was partially open.
She stopped where she was and set down her bags. Pulling her phone out of her purse, she called 911. An operator answered. Calmly, she told her who she was, where she was, and why she was calling. The woman dispatched a patrol car and asked Devon to stay out of her apartment and on the line until they got there.
Frank appeared from the stairwell, a basket of laundry in his arms. He silently questioned her with both eyebrows raised when he spotted her standing in the hallway talking on her cell.
Devon pointed toward her door, still talking to the 911 operator. Cupping her hand over the bottom of her cell, she asked Frank, “Did you see anyone go in or out of my apartment while I was gone?”
He shook his head. “Your door was shut when I went down to the laundry mat.”
“How long ago was that?”
“About twenty minutes? Just long enough to get my clothes out of the dryer and fold them.”
She relayed the information to the operator who called it in to the squad car on its way. The operator then told her to take her friend and leave the building until the police showed up, so she grabbed Frank and dragged him back out to the stairwell with her, leaving her groceries in the hall. Hopefully, their other neighbors would stay in their apartments.
When they got outside, he set down his basket. “What the hell’s going on, Dev?”
“I think someone broke into my apartment. The door was open when I got home just now.”
“Are they still in there?”
“I don’t know. I called the police as soon as I noticed it and then you came in.”
Frank looked up at the building. “Why the hell would someone break into these apartments? They gotta know we are the brokest motherfuckers in Austin. At least on this side of the highway.”
Devon had a good idea who it was, and it had nothing to do with how much money she made—or didn’t make—and everything to do with what had happened at the club. Swallowing down the rush of horror and mourning that had kept her up most of the night, she just shrugged. “Here comes a police car.”
She and Frank spent the next twenty minutes giving their statements while a female officer went up to check out her place. She came back outside ten minutes later and gave them the thumbs up that it was all clear.
“Okay,” the officer who was taking her statement said. “Let’s go up and have you take a look around. See if anything is missing.”
Devon nodded and led the way back to her apartment, even though she knew in her gut everything would be just as she left it. They weren’t after her stuff. They were after her.
Frank gave her a kiss on the cheek and took his clothes in to put them away after making her promise she’d come get him when the police left.
Devon opened the door to her place and went inside, the two officers close on her heels. It took her all of about two minutes to look around and confirm that everything was exactly as she’d left it. Even her money stash, in a spot that was quite obvious for anyone who knew where to look, was still there. All seventy-nine dollars of it.
She smiled at the officers. “Everything is here. Maybe I just didn’t shut the door all the way.” Bullshit. Devon always made sure the door was closed and securely locked. “I’m sorry to waste your time.”
“No apologies necessary, ma’am,” the male officer said. “We’d always rather be safe than sorry, as the saying goes.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you again.” She shook their hands and showed them out, waiting until they were in the stairwell before she went to get Frank.
He opened the door, and a cloud of skunky smoke preceded him out.
