“That’s like practically workplace harassment,” I said, tapping him on the arm so he saw I said it as a joke. “Watch yourself.”
Our Uber driver eyed the conversation from his rearview mirror. We both pretended not to notice when our gazes met. He pulled to a stop at the curb in front of our building without a comment.
“We should check the papers to see if they announced the new hire to the public,” he said as he got out of the Uber and held the door for me.
Wow, that was actually a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that? “That was next on my to-do list.”
Dane opened the door to the condo building’s lobby, letting me walk in first.
“If he wasn’t researching a ghost story, but had something big to share, he must have gotten the job.” He’d want to share the big news with the readers of his blog.
We walked onto the elevator, and Dane hit the button for our floor. “It’s possible.”
His voice didn’t indicate he was super enthusiastic about it.
“You never support my theories.” He had the same lackluster reaction to my ideas on the case we researched in North Carolina.
The elevator jolted as we stopped on the correct floor. “They’re always so…”
“Well thought-out,” I supplied as we ambled off. Someone had left a trash bag outside their door in the hallway.
Dane stopped at my door. “Weak.”
“Wow, that’s rude, D-bag.” Yeah, I was definitely keeping that nickname. It fit him so well.
He shrugged as we walked inside my condo. “What’s the saying? The truth hurts?”
“What in the hell?” I stopped halfway inside the condo in shock. Did we have a hurricane while we were gone?
Dane pushed past me. “What? Oh, hell.”
The unit wasn’t large, meaning I saw the destruction right away. The pretty green cushions from the couch were tossed across the floor. What a mess. The drawers under the television were open. The books previously lined up on the bookcases were scattered around like confetti.
“Stay here,” Dane said as he rushed past me and took the steps on the spiral staircase two at a time to the sleeping area.
A lamp from the end table on the right side of the couch lay on its side. A large dent in the shade marred the country-printed fabric. I turned, my heart pounding, to inspect the door. It looked perfectly fine. How did they get into my room?
What logical thing might have caused this?
“It might have been an earthquake!” I yelled at Dane as he searched the top floor.
He returned a few moments later. “They threw some stuff around up there, but I couldn’t tell if they took anything. It’s clear, so you’ll have to check.”
I stepped over a shattered mug on the kitchen floor. “I better not get charged for that.”
Upstairs, someone had dumped my suitcase on the floor, but nothing was strewn around the room like I expected. Nothing seemed stolen or even touched. Just dumped. Who did that?
It seemed like they’d been looking for something. Or were trying to send a message.
“Everything is here,” I said as Dane joined me upstairs. “This doesn’t feel like a robbery.”
“I assume this is the ‘or else’ part of the message,” Dane said, helping to pick up my clothes and shove them back into my suitcase. “Did you see your laptop?”
“No.” I tossed in the last pair of socks. This is why I never used the dressers they gave you for unpacking.
Dane tossed the bed pillow back onto the bed. “So they took something then.”
“No, I didn’t bring a laptop.” The sleeping area was a small loft above the first floor with only a half wall keeping people safe. “I do it all from my phone.”
