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“No?”
“No,” I repeated, pointing downward. “It was a chunk of paver.”
Sure enough, a jagged piece of grey-white paver lay off to one side of the mess. A second one rested nearby, appearing equally responsible.
“Two pavers, two windows,” I said.
Oscar scratched at his head. “But those… those pavers are from—”
“The courtyard,” I nodded. “Yes.”
We were deep into the back end of the manor now, clear on the other side. At a place where the only things outside the broken windows were gravel and grass.
“So they took these pieces from the front entrance,” said Oscar. “Carried them all the way around the house, to throw them in the back.”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
I shook my head sadly. “To break these windows specifically,” I said. “They’re stained glass.”
“Shit.”
I sighed heavily. “You’re not kidding.”
The windows in question were more than a century old. They’d been poured by master artisans into lead frames, then annealed and assembled into beautiful patterns that would catch the morning sun.
“These are irreplaceable,” Oscar shook his head disgustedly. “The people who did this—”
“Or person,” I interjected.
My foreman frowned. “There are two chunks of paver, though.”
“Sure,” I agreed. “One for each hand.”
He spat angrily, losing his train of thought. I couldn’t blame him.
“I’ll tell the guys,” I said. “See what they want to do. In the meantime, do me a favor and get this cleaned up?”
He nodded, and I patted him on the shoulder.
“Thanks Oscar,” I smiled wearily. “What would I do without you?”
My foreman grinned and kicked at a few shards of red and blue glass. They tinkled noisily across the tiled floor.
“A whole lot of sweeping.”
Sixteen
KARISSA
It wasn’t the thunder that woke me up, so much as the lightning. But once I was awake…
WHOA!
The scene outside my window outdid the screen from any movie. Even the fantasy ones, where anything usually goes.
What in the—
