Page 58 of The P Arrangement

“My door. I was going to unlock it, but it’s not locked.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “I swear I locked it before we left on Thursday.”

“Stand back.”

She looked at me. “What?”

“I know you locked it. I watched you do it.” When I reached her, I gestured for her to move away from the door. “Back up, baby. I’m going in first.”

The door was already ajar from Delaney, so I pushed it fully open. Thankfully, it was spring, and the sun was still out, so I could see into her place without wondering if someone was hiding in any shadows.

Unfortunately, daylight didn’t hide any of the destruction that someone—or someones—had left behind in her house.

We had a clear view into her living room, and it looked like every single one of her electronics was missing. The couch cushions were all on the floor, and her entertainment center was tipped over in the middle of the room.

“Oh my God,” she said, pushing me out of the way.

I grabbed her arm. “Delaney, you need to call the police.”

She pointed her finger toward her house. “I need to go in there and see how much of my stuff was stolen.”

Using a calm voice, I said, “Call the police. Then, we’ll go in and look together.”

She nodded and pulled out her phone. She made the call and was told it would probably be an hour before someone showed up.

After she was finished, I followed her inside.

“They took my espresso machine.” She made a disappointed noise. “And my air fryer. Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know. I’m guessing they took stuff they knew they could easily sell on the internet.”

Her shoulders sagged as we continued on. The dining room that she had turned into a playroom was left alone. Her office was surprisingly tidy too.

“It’s a good thing I had my laptop. They took my printer though.”

The bathrooms were untouched, and thankfully, they hadn’t messed with Paxton’s room. Delaney’s room was a mess. Jewelry was all over the dresser and floor.

“It looks like they just went for the stuff they thought would be worth money and left everything else,” I said.

“Yeah.” She moved into her walk-in closet. “What the hell?”

I rushed over to see what had made her upset. Almost all of her clothes were on the floor.

“Why would they do this?”

“I’m guessing they were looking for a safe or hidden valuables.” I lifted a shoulder and put my arm around her. “I’m sorry, baby. I don’t really know why.”

“All my stuff…”

She didn’t have to finish her sentence. I had a good guess as to how she felt.

“I don’t even have a safe or a place to hide—” She gasped and ran out of the closet.

I followed just in time to see her pull open her bottom nightstand drawer, removing it.

She reached in and sighed. “Oh, thank God,” she said, pulling out a ring box. She looked up at me. “My grandmother’s ring,” she explained, clutching it to her chest.

Nodding in understanding, I suggested, “Why don’t you put the drawer back, and we can go wait for the police to show up?”

“Okay.” She looked down at herself and must have realized she didn’t have anywhere to put the box. “Can you hold it for me until we go back downstairs?”

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