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Shiloh shook her head. “Looks okay,” she said in that same strange voice. A flicker of hope lit up her eyes, but Tran shook his head.
“I know this is hard, but you need to see the rest.”
She nodded again, and we followed him into the shop that was dim.
“Responding officers made their initial inspection and dusted for prints, though, to be honest, there wasn’t much to dust.” He looked at Shiloh with a kind, sympathetic expression. “Brace yourself.”
He flicked on the light and Shiloh made a sound I hoped to never hear again as long as I fucking lived. Her hands flew to her mouth and she stared.
Letitia let out a little cry and Rudy threw his hands up. “Good goddamn.”
I said nothing, the rage burning me from the inside out. I could hardly breathe, never mind speak.
Motherfucking sons of shit-licking assholes…
Glittering under the pot lights Shiloh had installed during the shop’s renovation was an ocean of shattered glass. Every single display was smashed, including the front-facing glass on the cabinet that served as her cash register desk, the rings glittering with shards. The walls and floors were tagged with black spray paint in random zigzags and lines, the faces of the women in the artwork blacked out, and what was left of the display boxes were marked with haphazard sprays.
Shiloh had been so careful with every penny of the start-up business loan, keeping costs down and using her own talents to make simple things beautiful. She let me pay for a fraction of what I wanted to spend of my inheritance, insisting on doing as much as she could by herself.
And now she stood in the center of the rubble of her dreams that had, a few hours ago, been perfect.
I moved beside her, glass crunching under my boots, not knowing what to say or do.
“Who would do such a thing?” Rudy asked.
“That’s what we’re hoping you’ll be able to tell us,” the other cop—Murray—said, his notepad out. “Did you remove all your items from the window displays before close of business?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Anything else look taken?”
She stared blankly at the jewelry in the smashed and sprayed displays, covered in glass, some pieces shattered too.
“Don’t know,” she said dully. “Don’t think so.”
He frowned. “Not a robbery, then. Just straight mayhem. Whoever the perp was, they only wanted to cause damage.”
And then a ball of pure ice seemed to slam into my chest, making my blood run cold.
We’re not done with you, a voice screeched in my memory. You’ll pay. In the way that hurts you the most.
I looked at the woman beside me. Hur
ting Shiloh was how to hurt me the most.
Fuck… Oh fuck, no…
“How did this happen?” Shiloh said, looking and sounding so damn lost. “I have security. Cameras and a company. They’re supposed to call me…”
“I grabbed your phone,” Letitia said, rummaging in her bag. “Thought you might need it.”
She handed it to Shiloh, who stared, disbelieving, at the screen. “I muted it. I took a few selfies behind the register and of the crowd…and then I went to work.”
Over her shoulder I saw a bunch of missed call notifications from the security monitoring company she’d hired.
“I wouldn’t blame yourself for that,” Tran said. “Typical smash-and-grab. They’re usually long gone before we show up. Can I take a look at your security footage?”
Shiloh nodded absently as she pulled up the security camera app, and we gathered around to watch.
