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“Yeah…”
I shake my head. “No, I left all the lights on when we left. I don’t ever turn off all the lights anymore.”
Terror builds in my gut as he looks at me. He turns back to the sliver of space that’s open into my apartment. He slowly, quietly closes the door and takes a step back.
He doesn’t say anything as he walks me back toward the elevator, pulling out his phone out of his shorts pocket. He’s talking to the police, explaining there’s an open investigation, a stalker, and a possible break-in, and they need someone down here to check it out. Hearing Wade relate all this to the dispatcher, it really hits me.
He was in my apartment.
Oh my god, he was in my apartment.My body starts to vibrate with uncontrolled fear. Still on the phone, Wade wraps his arm around me like he’s trying to ease my shaking.
What if he’s still in there?
I cover my mouth with my hand, thinking about the photos that were moved, all the feelings of being watched, my missing pj’s.
Wade ends the call but starts texting. I assume he’s keeping Link and everyone updated.
“Officers are on their way. They want us to meet them in the lobby. They don’t want us to wait around in the hall.” So we step onto the elevator, and I fall into Wade and cry.
He soothes me, enveloping me in his embrace. We don’t wait in the lobby for long before we’re joined by two police officers.
They tell us they’ve contacted Detective Green, and he’ll be here shortly. They say to wait for him down here, and they’ll go up and check the apartment. The elevator dings and closes as they head up to my floor just as Detective Green, a forty-something man who has clearly seen some stuff in his days, joins us. He’s dressed in plain clothes, just as he has been the other two times I’ve met with him.
The minutes tick by slowly. Wade holds on to me tightly. Some chatter comes over the radio in Green’s hand, but I don’t understand it. I’m not up to par on my police lingo, but Green looks at me with hard eyes. He pulls out a cell phone from his pocket and takes a few steps away from us, talking quietly into the phone. He takes a few steps back toward us as he pockets his phone again.
“Do you want sit down over there?” He motions to the small group of couches and chairs. Our lobby isn’t massive, but it’s comfortable. My brows scrunch as I stare at the seating area. I don’t really feel like sitting, but I also don’t want to be standing here.
“Ms. Ross, your apartment wasn’t just broken into. The perpetrator is still there. The officers have him in cuffs, and they’ll be bringing him down shortly. Do you want to come over here and sit down before that happens?”
My heart nearly stops as I choke on my breath. My hands down to my toes turn cold, and I’m not sure I could move if I tried.
“He was in her apartment?” Wade hisses, his body instinctively shifting in front of me.
“We can talk through this, but I’d like to do it over there.” He nods his head toward the couches again. With Wade’s help, I find myself sitting on the couch, facing the front of the building. Wade sits on the other side of me, and the detective stands between us, where we had been standing in the middle of the lobby. The elevator door slides open.
After that night in The Bar, I’d recognize him anywhere, and I’ll never forget his face. The man that has been tormenting me through letters and emails and calls for weeks stands between the two officers, hands behind his back. Wade starts to stand just as a low rumble vibrates though his body, but my hands grip his tightly. I need him here with me, not doing whatever his protective state of mind wants him to do right now as the man from my apartment draws his eyes toward us.
When his eyes find mine, they flash with awareness. He starts to speak, but the officer handling him yanks him and mutters something to him. They don’t stop but walk right on through the lobby and out of the building. The lights from the police car shine bright, but I only just now notice the red and blue rotating lights that shine through the large glass windows of the front of the lobby. It’s not until they’re out of the building that my tears start falling.
“Oh my god,” I squeak.
“Bernadette,” Wade whispers before he kisses my temple.
“Ms. Ross. I know this is probably a lot, but we’re going to have some officers and myself go upstairs and take in the scene. I know it’s going to be hard for you, but we need to have you come up and help us record any damage or missing items.” He has taken a seat in the chair across from us.
I nod absentmindedly.
“Ms. Ross, do you think this is the man who has been stalking you?”
My eyes go to him, and I remember that we didn’t get to give them the information on him. I nod again. “ Yes.” My answer cracks in my throat.
“I’ve got my team on their way, and then we can head up there.”
Twenty minutes later, Wade leads me into my apartment. There are three other people inside, taking notes and photos. Confused at the reason for the camera, I jerk my head around my apartment at the same time Wade growls out a curse.
My apartment has been trashed.
Heat burns at the back of my eyes as I look around. Kitchen cabinets hang open, and nearly all my dishes have been yanked out of them, most in shatters on the floor. Following the line of discretion, my fern lies on its side, dirt everywhere. It’s probably dead. Wade pulls me a little deeper into the dining room, when I notice that my couch cushions have been ripped, or rather slashed, with a knife. My TV screen has been shattered.
