Page 19 of Cruel Riches

Coming to get it now,I wrote back to Sascha. Have fun on your date!

She didn’t reply, so I figured she was already out with the guy.

By the time I made it back up to the city, it was already half past ten. With a yawn, I headed up to the apartment and let myself in. There were voices coming from the living room, so I guessed Sascha’s date had gone well and she’d brought the guy home to hang out.

When I stepped out of the foyer, I realized the voices were coming from the TV. An old episode of Forensic Files was playing on Netflix.

Sascha wasn’t watching it. She was fast asleep on the sofa in a black midi dress. One stiletto shoe was dangling off her right foot, while the left lay on its side on the floor. Her hair was mussed, and her makeup was partially smeared on one eye. Two Chinese food cartons, several crumpled chocolate wrappers, and an open wine bottle sat on the coffee table in front of her.

I raised an eyebrow. “Guess the date didn’t go well, then,” I murmured to myself.

I grabbed a blanket from the other sofa and carefully placed it over Sascha. Then I tiptoed over to the dining area and retrieved my laptop from its bag. I quickly logged in and emailed the guy at the newspaper about my ad renewal.

“Done,” I whispered, shoulders slumping with relief. I needed a coffee before I headed back to Blackthorne, though, or else I might fall asleep at the wheel and skid right off the road.

I quietly made an espresso in the kitchen. While I sipped it, I wandered over to Sascha’s painting area that stood in a nook just off the living room. She had a new canvas on an easel, and her latest piece was some sort of abstract splashed with red, gold, black, white, and gray. I usually didn’t like abstract stuff very much, but I had to admit that this one was gorgeous.

Cocking my head slightly to one side, I decided that I needed a painting or two to add a splash of color to the bare cream walls of my new dorm. I had a couple of Sascha’s completed pieces in my bedroom, so I figured I might as well go and get them while I was here.

I padded down the hall. When I reached my bedroom, I stopped in my tracks, suddenly feeling cold in a way that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

When I left earlier, my room was neat and tidy. Now it was strewn with papers and open books.

I took a slow step forward, focusing on my desk. Above it, I had a ‘murder board’ with everything related to my dad’s case—photos, Post-Its, newspaper articles, and my own scrawled notes on the whiteboard beneath. If it had red strings connecting some of the photos and notes, it would look like something out of a crime thriller movie.

Next to my desk was a shelf where I kept all the books I’d read over the years while researching the case—true crime books, criminal psychology books, forensic textbooks, medical textbooks, and other relevant works.

Several of them were lying on the floor, and my notes from the murder board were scattered nearby. Some of the photos had been taken down too, and they were haphazardly strewn on my bed.

I dashed back down the hall and poked Sascha’s bare foot, which was sticking out of the blanket. “Sascha, wake up.”

She stirred and opened one eye. “What are you doing here?” she mumbled. “I thought you’d get your laptop tomorrow.”

“No, I needed it tonight. I texted you.”

She yawned. “Oh. Sorry. I’ve been sleeping.”

“Right. Did you go in my room after I left earlier?”’

She sat up a bit and nodded wearily. “I borrowed your black studded purse because it went with my dress,” she said. A guilty expression crossed her face. “Sorry, I thought you wouldn’t mind because you didn’t take it to Blackthorne.”

“Did you mess anything up while you were in there?”

She stared at me for a moment, eyes bleary with a mix of fatigue and confusion. “What do you mean?” she finally said.

“My room is all messed up. My books and notes from the murder board are scattered all over the carpet.”

Sascha sat all the way up, eyes widening. “It was fine earlier.”

“Well, that means someone’s been through it,” I said, heart pounding.

All traces of sleepiness seemed to have vanished from my sister’s face. “Shit. Are you serious?”

I nodded and gestured for her to follow me down the hall. She cast her eyes around the mess in my room and shook her head. “What the fuck? I swear it wasn’t like this when I got your purse.”

“Did you let your date in earlier?” I asked. “Could he have done this?”

“No. I met him at the restaurant. The asshole turned out to be married, and I found out literally two minutes into the date, so I was only gone from the apartment for fifteen minutes,” she replied. “I don’t understand how this could’ve happened. Did I forget to lock the door when I came home?”

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