“I remember you took pictures when the lot was still in New York. I sent over a list of the missing items. Can you see if you have pictures that match the descriptions?”
“I’ll have to see. A lot of them were on my laptop when it was stolen. I had it backed up on a flash drive. It’s in a box I haven’t unpacked. I’ll check as soon as I can.”
“I hate to rush you, but can you do it tonight? I want to file the report myself. Even if I get fired, I can’t do nothing about these thefts.” He sounds distraught.
“What do the police say?” I ask without much hope.
His laugh is bitter. “They say there are no signs of a break-in. Referred us to the same task force that hasn’t done shit to help.”
“You should check your CCTV footage from the nights you have private events,” I suggest. Ozwald Annan was walking around the museum like he owned it the evening of the gala.
“Thanks, Sin. I have to go. I’m sorry. Send over whatever you have as soon as you can. Thank you.”
He hangs up. I stare at my screen helplessly.
More thefts, no one reporting on it, law enforcement is apathetic, the thieves are only going to be emboldened.
I need to look for that drive, but I have no idea where to start and an appointment with my lash lady I can’t be late for.
I’m running late when I get back. I still need to shower and change for whatever Kwame’s got planned for me tonight.
I fumble for my keys and lean against my front door only to have it give way. I stumble inside.
My place looks like it’s been torn apart. My blood runs cold.
I stumble back outside and it’s only then that I notice the picture taped to my front door. I grab it and run back to my car.
My heart feels like it’s trying to break free of my ribcage by the time I’m at my car. I get in and lock the door before I pull out the picture again. It’s me walking up the small path between my driveway and the rear entrance to my house. I’m not sure when it was taken, but I bought the coat I’m wearing at a Black Friday sale.
Someone is watching me.
And they want me to know.
Panic makes me lightheaded. I’m flung back to a time when I was afraid of everything.
Terror builds inside me until I can barely breathe.
I can’t go through this again.
I lean over and fumble to open my glove compartment.
The second my hand brushes the moleskin journal, I’m one step closer to calm and my pulse slows, I breathe in deep and then push all the air out again.
Calmer, I open it and uncap the fountain pen I keep clipped inside. I write my feelings down until they’re not choking me anymore. I use my breath to slow my heart down and by the time I’ve released the fifth one, I can think clearly.
I haven’t worked on this story since Sofia made it clear it would cost me my job.
Why am I getting this now? The day Leon called me, hours after I said I had a flash drive in my house.
My heart trips. Does this mean someone is monitoring my calls?
I text Leon and tell him I don’t have the pictures and can’t help.
For good measure I add that while the robbery is unfortunate, I think he should focus on showcasing the pieces they have. I know he’ll be confused but I don’t dare put anything in writing. I’ll go by there this week.
Right now, I need my anchor. With trembling hands, I call Kwame.
Chapter Forty-Four
