Page 71 of Courting Gossip (Courting)
She wrapped both arms around her waist. ‘Don’t worry. I know what to do.’
Sometimes she had to role play for clients, but it wasn’t difficult to draw on the tears. She just stopped fighting them and let her fear take over. Her steps slowed as she approached the house. She truly did dread where this was going to lead. Someone in the crowd finally spotted her. She heard a reporter call her name and cameras started flashing. The explosion of light momentarily pushed the night away.
Morgan kept her moving. Out of habit, she reached for her keys but the police were already inside. A patrolman opened the front door and let them in.
‘Thanks,’ she said quietly. She recognised him as the young cop from the hotel. ‘Hi.’
What had his name been again? Simpson? Simmons? No, Simons.
He blinked in surprise, but ushered her into the entryway.
Genieve looked around the lower level of her home, and the weight on her shoulders lightened. ‘It really isn’t that bad.’
The detective scowled. ‘Just don’t look at your back door.’
She immediately took a step in that direction, but Simons held up his hands. Behind him she could see people wearing MPD windbreakers moving about her kitchen.
The detective touched her between her shoulder blades again. ‘We’ll make sure you have help getting it secure for the night. You’ll need to work with contractors and insurance from there. Your friend Brody can probably get all that moving for you.’
She pressed her lips together. At least it would give Brody something to do. He didn’t like stepping back and being useless.
‘Let’s go upstairs.’
She wiped her eyes and swallowed her tears. They’d been for the crowd, but they’d allowed her to get the fear out. Now that she was here, she could see that the boogeyman hadn’t done this. No, somebody had come into her home without permission. They’d damaged her property and were trying to intimidate her. Anger rose up in fear’s place. They had no right.
‘OK.’ She could do this. She wanted to help catch whoever had done this and make them pay.
The detective nodded in approval.
She led the way upstairs. More people wearing MPD shirts were working inside her bedroom. They were poking into her things, too, but they stopped when they saw her. The detective watched from the doorway. He wanted to know what was missing or out of place. Genieve recoiled. Her home felt dirty now. Overrun by the presence of strangers. She pushed her hands into her pockets, not wanting the grime touching her. She looked around slowly, trying to catalogue everything, but the missing spaces were what jumped out at her. There was one on the wall and more in her closet. The doors stood open, and her dresser drawers looked like a Dr Seuss staircase. She looked into the jewellery box a forensics tech had been dusting.
She moved back to the centre of the room. ‘Well, that’s easy enough. Everything that Samuel ever gave me is gone.’
‘Samuel?’ the detective said sharply. ‘As in Gunderson?’
She turned in a full circle. ‘The artwork, jewellery, clothes and fake fur? Gone. All of it.’
* * *
Brody waited at the Apple Tree Grille for the detective to drop off Genieve. He looked at his phone for the time and then again for messages. He hadn’t made a fair trade. He’d dropped off Nina at her penthouse over an hour ago.
He picked up the phone to text Jenny again. ‘Everything OK?’
Her responses had been too short and vague for him to pick up any clues. He didn’t know what she was dealing with over there. How badly off was the place? How long had it been like that? Had she kept anything incriminating?
No. He took another drink of coffee to get caffeine to his brain. That house was her sanctuary. She hadn’t even liked inviting him inside the last time. There was nothing there that she’d need to hide.
Except her entire personal life. He knew how many cops had been on the scene at the Emissary. How many were in her home? How many reporters were waiting outside it?
He flipped back to the internet. There were already pictures of her posted, arriving on the scene. They’d talked briefly about how she should behave in front of the reporters, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that those were real tears on her cheeks. The camera flashes had probably made her skin seem paler. At least Morgan was at her side, keeping the scavengers at bay.
So why wasn’t the guy getting her out of there more quickly? How much information did he need?
The door to the Grille swished open, and he looked up quickly. It was late enough – make that early enough – that new customers drew attention. He shoved his phone in his pocket when he saw the gleam of red hair.Finally. ‘Hey,’ he said softly.
‘Hey,’ she said tiredly.
He turned on his stool, and she walked right into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her protectively.
