Page 145 of Traces Of You
The heat in Clay’s gaze when he turned his head told Ford to shut the hell up and not challenge his brother. “They knew they were made when I saw them scoping out the gate. That’s how we found out who they were, because I knew exactly when ithappened and pulled them up on the camera to get the van and find out who it was rented to.”
Clay was right. They wouldn’t have found out who at least one guy was if his brother hadn’t remembered the suspicious van, then gone back to see when it was on the property or how many times it’d driven by.
Clay’s truck halted next to Ford’s. Reenie was outside standing by it.
“You didn’t do what I said,” he shouted.
“I’m not leaving,” she said. “There is no one here. I’ve seen messes like this before. It’s almost the same as the one I left behind in Florida. This is desperation in a coward’s form.”
“Yeah, well, Oliver had no problem taking it out on you too,” he said. Not just faking the break-in at his place to have it look as if someone stole the drugs that Randy had hidden there.
“I’m not that person and this wasn’t them.”
“We know,” Clay said. “My mother has been here since then, and no one touched the place.”
Ford and Clay moved past Reenie to walk in. Reenie was right behind him. She didn’t leave when he told her to; she wasn’t going to again.
The couch cushions ended up on the opposite side of the living room. The chair turned over. The kitchen cabinets were open and everything was on the floor smashed as if someone swiped their hand across the shelves.
This wasn’t the case of someone looking for another thing, it was meant to destroy. It was an emotional breakdown.
“I didn’t go further inside,” she said. “I only saw this.”
Clay was sweeping the place while he stood in front of Reenie. It hadn’t taken long for his brother to come out.
“The bedroom is the worst,” Clay said. “No one is here, the doors are all locked, but the bedroom window is unlocked. My guess is that is how they got in.”
“I had it opened a few nights for air,” she said. “I didn’t think anyone could fit through it. It’s high enough off the ground and it’s small.”
Reenie walked toward her room, Clay next to her.
Someone had yanked her clothes from the drawers and tossed them across the floor, some torn to shreds. The mattress was half off the bed, tilted at an angle. Amid the mess, an envelope lay on the floor. She bent down slowly to pick it up.
“What’s that?”
“Money and credit cards I kept under the mattress.” She opened it. “It’s all here.”
“So not a robbery,” Clay said.
“Have you two ever gone through my stuff without me knowing?” she asked.
“No,” Ford said. “The only thing I ever did was open your closet door the first day to see if you put your stuff away. Why?”
“Clay?” she asked. “I know you’ve been here without me. It’s your place and you’ve changed locks and dropped things off. Did you go through my stuff? Because someone did.”
“What?!” both he and Clay shouted at once.
“When?” he asked. “And why didn’t you tell us?”
“I thought it was Clay,” she said. “He never trusted me. Or thought maybe it was you. It was after you asked me about the drugs and if I stole them. I came home and the place felt off. I couldn’t put my finger on it. When I went to get a change of clothing, some of my stuff wasn’t as lined up as I keep it.”
“I searched your car one night when you were sleeping,” Clay said. He wasn’t surprised that his brother admitted it. “But if I went through your stuff, there’d be no sign of anyone touching a thing.”
Which he believed. His brother wasn’t sloppy or careless and wouldn’t go through someone’s private clothing.
“Why didn’t anything trigger on the cameras?” Ford asked.
“Because they came in from the side, not the front or back,” Clay said.
