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“Talk to me,” he said brusquely, anxious to hear what might have been found in her apartment.
“Good news and bad news, boss.”
“Tell me the bad news.”
“Her place has been ransacked. All the drawers have been pulled out and there’s crap everywhere. Paintings are off the walls, the works. Uh, boss…”
“Yeah?”
“I think it was the Zeppelin brothers.”
Marco caught his breath. “Because…?”
“On the bathroom mirror someone wrote,stop sniffing around or you’ll lose your nose.It was done with red lipstick.”
“Fuck.”
“She’s lucky she’s there with you.”
“No shit. Did anyone see you going in?”
“Not a chance, and the building has no security cameras. We’ve gathered up some clothes and stuff like you asked.”
“What about her laptop?”
“That’s the good news,” Benny replied. Marco heard the triumph in his voice.
“I’m listening.”
“We went into the building through the garage and noticed some storage lockers against the back wall, but there were no corresponding numbers to the apartments. Joe checked in her coat and jacket pockets and found a key in a motorcycle jacket with a tag that saidGarage 129. Sure enough, it opened a locker marked 129.”
“Her laptop was in there?”
“Yep,” Benny exclaimed, “zipped inside a fancy bag.”
“Benny, that’s great. Was there anything else?”
“Just ski boots, shit like that, but she must’ve known her apartment might be turned over. Why else would she put the computer in the garage?”
“Makes sense,” Marco agreed thoughtfully. “Are you on your way back?”
“Yeah, but traffic’s a nightmare.”
“I’m going to text you an address. I think it’s in the village. Drive by and take some pictures.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
“I also need you to stop by the club. There are a couple of things I need you to bring back for me.”
Giving Benny detailed instructions on where he could find the items, Marco ended the call and glanced down at Steph’s phone sitting on his desk. Getting the password for that had been easy, but the laptop might prove slightly more difficult. It didn’t matter. In the end, he always elicited the information he wanted.
* * *
Slowly opening her eyes, Steph stared at the unfamiliar bedside table and lamp, then let out a heavy sigh. Marco Moretti had swept her into a salacious vortex of pain and pleasure. The man was everything he’d been rumored to be, but scarier. She touched her tender backside, then stretched. Every muscle in her body ached.
Reaching for the water bottle, she groaned as she sat up and unscrewed the cap. Taking a long drink and spying a door off to her left, she assumed it was the bathroom. But she wasn’t ready to leave the bed. Placing the bottle back on the nightstand, she slid back under the covers and let out a long yawn.
The dream.
