Page 20 of Armed ’N’ Ready

Couldn’t be. She must have imagined it.

“Andi, then,” he said unexpectedly. She’d have bet twenty cappuccinos that he wouldn’t have embraced such informality. Not a take-no-prisoners kind of cop like him.

A warm breeze whispered through the trees, bringing with it his clean, citrusy aftershave mixed with the smell of freshly oiled leather. An entire day in this heat and humidity and the man still smelled great and looked all clean and pressed. The only evidence of the long day he’d had was the faint growth of beard on his jaw.

No fair. With her shorts and shirt sticking to her, she must look worse than something the cat dragged in.

“Agent Cox,” she said, quickly holding out her hand to Mr. FBI, which he shook. “I need to apologize for my rude behavior over the phone. I realize now that you had nothing to do with this.”

“No need for apologies.” He held up his other hand, stopping her from continuing with more contrite explanations. “You’ve had a rough day.”

Ya think? “I definitely have. When this is all over and you unfreeze my account and stop believing that I’m part of a criminal organization, I’d like to extend an invitation to both of you to stop by the DPC for lunch. On me, of course.”

Cox smiled, then shot Nick a conspiratorial look. She narrowed her eyes. What’s up with that? “Thank you for the invitation,” the agent said, his smile gone now. “Someday, perhaps. Now let’s go inside and have a look.”

She led the way to the front door and pointed out the scratch marks near the lock. When they entered the house, it was worse than the brief glimpse she’d gotten earlier.

There wasn’t one piece of furniture in the living room that remained unscathed. Splintered wood lay everywhere. Cushion filling hung from the hallway chandelier. As they walked into the dining room, she sucked in a breath. Joe’s beautiful wood dining table had deep cut marks over most of the surface.

“I’ll call it in.” Nick clicked the microphone on his shoulder and reported the break-in to the Ludlow police department.

“You won’t be the investigating officers?” She looked from Nick to Cox. Not that she totally trusted them, but she had to admit that, under the circumstances, they’d been fair and courteous in their dealings with her.

“At this point, we can’t be sure this has anything to do with our investigation,” Nick said. “Even if it does, burglary isn’t a federal crime. Local police will retain jurisdiction on this.”

Cox took a few photos with his cell phone. “Don’t worry. We’ll maintain contact with the locals. They’re already aware that we served a search warrant here today. In fact, two of their officers were here with us this morning.”

She hadn’t known that, although when she thought about it there had been several different uniforms present during the warrant.

“Let’s check out the second floor.” Nick led the way as she and Cox followed him up the staircase and into the master bedroom.

“Oh no.” She covered her mouth with her hand. The sheets and duvet had been torn apart, the mattress upended, padding and springs spilling out from a deep gash in the center. The box spring had been destroyed, its fabric cover ripped off. Every drawer in the bureau and bedside tables had been pulled out, their contents scattered. Even her small suitcase had been dumped on the floor, her clothes thrown everywhere.

Nick turned slowly in a three-sixty, his eyes constantly moving as he took in the damage. “They were looking for something.”

Cox took more photos on his phone. “The only question is whether they found it.”

“Found what?” she asked. “You guys served a search warrant less than twelve hours ago. Didn’t you find everything there was to find?”

Nick turned on her. “We didn’t find your boyfriend’s laptop.”

“For the last time”—she clenched her hands—“he’s not my boyfriend. And don’t you think this is too big a coincidence? A search warrant and a break-in all in the same day?”

“Yeah,” he said flatly. “I do.”

Cox put his cell phone to his ear and headed for the door, turning at the last second. “I have to make some calls.”

Nick slipped a small pad from his breast pocket. “What time did you get here?”

“Around five o’clock.”

He scribbled on the pad. “Was the front door locked?”

“Yes, but I noticed those scratch marks on the door and a cigarette butt on the front stoop that wasn’t here when I left this morning.”

“You’ll have to point out the butt to the evidence collection team. We might be able to get a DNA hit.” He paused from making notes on the pad. “There’s an alarm system installed in the house. It wasn’t on when we served the warrant this morning. Did you activate it when you left today?”

“No,” she admitted, realizing if she’d been in the habit of setting it, she would have known the second Nick and the other officers had gotten in that morning.