Porter moved to the closet and threw it open. Only the tan and white clothes remained.
“What the hell kind of place is this?” I growled as my mood veered sharply from unease to anger.
“Looks like there is a thief on the island.” Porter pulled out the phone from his pocket.
“Who are you calling?” I asked.
“Thaddeus.”
I rested my hand on his arm. “Don’t you think you should check your hiding spot, first?”
Porter tossed his phone onto the bed and moved across the room with determination in his steps. He moved the chair and undid the grate and peeked inside. “Still safe and sound.”
I nodded, thankful that our thief hadn’t thought we might be hiding things. “I could tell you who did this if I leave you and step out of our boundaries.”
“Thaddeus will get to the bottom of this.” Porter picked up the phone again.
I left the bedroom and walked out of the residence, looking on the ground for any evidence that would point the finger at our thief. Just outside the sliding glass door, I found a footprint in the dirt.
Careful not to disturb it, I snapped a picture and then walked back inside and called out to Porter, who was already off the phone. I showed him my find, and he went outside and put his foot near it and took a picture to measure the size. My guess was about a size 7 or 8. A small shoe size for a guy or a normal-sized shoe for a girl. The size wouldn’t tell us much, but maybe the shoe print striation left behind might.
I focused on the pattern, committing it to memory.
Thaddeus, Wanda, and the gun-carrying guards showed up within ten minutes.