by Gun Brooke
Sabrina shivered despite the thick duvet. What the hell did that even mean? She had found similar-sounding emails on her laptop and her stationary computer six other times during the last three weeks. Rationalizing their presence, she had told herself they were just spam, or someone trying to be funny, but deep down she recognized the signs of denial. She kept up that façade until she found a letter on top of her computer keyboard at work. It contained only words printed on regular printer paper.
Regard this as proof.
Completely freaked out, she had debated whether to call the police, but instead she took the middle-of-the-road approach and contacted the security firm that had put in the alarm systems at her condo and her beach house. Al Karimi, the president of the company, had of course tried to convince her this was a police matter, but when Sabrina had refused to involve law enforcement, he had agreed to help her as much as possible. So far, he had nothing to report.
The intrusion into her office had happened yesterday, and for the rest of the day and today she had looked over her shoulder and remained in her office. When she had to work overtime this evening, she’d cursed herself for not doing that from home. She hadn’t counted on being so afraid, but old ghosts added to the mix, and her nerves played constant tricks on her.
When the night guard had knocked on the door to her office, Sabrina had been so startled, she’d nearly cried out. Spotting the familiar face of the woman who always treated her with friendly professionalism, Sabrina could have wept with relief. Of course, as usual, she withdrew behind her shell of “cool, calm, and collected” and projected what her brother called her regal persona. This guise didn’t seem to completely deter the night guard. What was her last name again? It said on her name tag, for heaven’s sake. Flynn? Yes. That was it. Flynn clearly did not scare easily—and she had been quite accommodating when Sabrina had asked her to monitor her journey to the car. Of course, the woman had to wonder. Would she ask about her request? Would she perhaps tell her colleagues or any of the other tenants at the business center? For some reason Sabrina couldn’t explain, she didn’t think so.
She pulled a blanket on top of the duvet and huddled underneath, finding it almost impossible to get warm. On days like today, when the present was causing her grief and the past loomed on the horizon, Sabrina had to fight against her instinct to hide.
She had come too far to fall into that trap again.
Chapter Two
“Okay, cousin. Time to spill the beans about Sabrina Hawk.” Meghan rounded Darcy’s desk and sat down on the corner of it, looking pointedly at her. “And don’t you dare skip any details.”
“There’s nothing to tell. Honestly. She asked me to keep an eye on her while she walked to her car, since it was late in the evening. That was it.” Darcy pulled her shoulders up in a deep shrug.
“And going from ‘good evening’ to ‘please guard me with your life, oh handsome night guard,’ is nothing?” Meghan gestured wildly. “From what I’ve heard, Sabrina Hawk isn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy type. For her to say more than two words, let alone ask you for something so extraordinary—it’s what we gossip girls live for.”
Darcy groaned and covered her eyes with her free hand. With the other, she held onto a mug of green tea as if it were a lifebuoy. What had possessed her to tell Meghan about what had happened at the business center two nights ago? She knew her cousin was curious to a fault, hence her local success as a private investigator. Meghan had gone to the police academy eight years before Darcy but had already opted for the private sector at graduation.
“You can’t gossip about Sabrina Hawk to any of your friends,” Darcy said with a moan. “SecLife has strict regulations regarding customer privacy, which in this case extends to the tenants of the building they protect. I can’t lose yet another job.”
Immediately serious and contrite, Meghan held up her hands, palms forward. “Hey. I wouldn’t do that to you. Ever. You know that, right? Whatever you tell me about the gorgeous Ms. Hawk stays between us. Promise. I’ll just gossip inside my head.” She drew a cross over her heart and then kissed her fingertips, a gesture from when they were younger.
“All right. I trust you.” Darcy did. As outgoing and exuberant as Meghan was, she was unwaveringly loyal. “She didn’t say much, really, but the way she acted was strange as hell. She even examined her car, inside and out, while keeping an eye on the surroundings, as if she expected someone to launch himself at her any moment. She’s very private, normally, but I’ve never seen her skittish like this.”
“Perhaps something happened to her?” Meghan looked serious now. Her professional demeanor was in place, and she pursed her lips like she did when she thought of different solutions to a problem. “When did you last see her before this?”
“A week ago. She worked late on that Tuesday. No sign of this kind of behavior.”
“So, judging from that, something might have happened between…” Meghan leaned sideways to check Darcy’s calendar. “September sixth to fifteenth.”
Darcy nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t know what it is about her that makes her impossible to ignore. I mean, she’s not my type. At all.”
Meghan snorted irreverently. “I’ll say. You normally go for sad-looking emo girls, or, which boggles my mind, my straight friends.”
“Oh, please. One straight friend.” Darcy huffed and tossed her low ponytail back over her shoulder. “She did say she was curious.” Now she couldn’t keep from laughing at Meghan’s pained expression.
“God, no more details. It’s enough that she always says you were, to date, her most thoughtful lover.” Meghan stood. “But as your Ms. Hawk doesn’t fit any of your preferred categories, I admit that you have cause for concern on both fronts. Something bothers her—and something seriously bothers you.”
“I know.” Meghan was annoyingly right, as usual. Darcy pulled up her ongoing case files on her computer but couldn’t concentrate. Instead, she opened an empty folder and wrote Sabrina Hawk at the top. Intending nothing more than to keep tabs on her observations, she wrote down what she knew of the woman she couldn’t stop thinking about, including what had transpired two evenings ago.
* * *
Sabrina stood in her office looking at the mess and destruction before her. Her desktop computer was missing. Every binder was pulled from the shelves and lay in a pile on the floor. The window was broken, and the cool September wind ruffled the loose papers flooding the desk and floor. The perpetrator had even slashed the armrests and the seat of her leather desk chair.
Making sure she remained calm on the surface, Sabrina feared her thundering heart might make her pulse points visible. Each heartbeat echoed in her ears, drowning out the gasps from her employees that stood behind her.
“I’m calling the police.” The decisive voice belonged to Brian, the tall, dark-haired father of four who was the first one she hired when her business took off.
Sabrina wanted to object. She didn’t want the police there to ask questions, prod and poke her, second-guess her. Pulling herself together, she turned on slightly unsteady feet. “Thank you, Brian. If you can handle that contact, I’m going to call security and find out why no alarms seem to have gone off.” She motioned for everyone to leave her office.
“Go check your work stations. Make sure nothing’s been touched or tampered with. Don’t forget the storage room or Heather’s and Fabiana’s desks.” The desks of the two absent accountants looked pristine, but it was still prudent to make sure no one had bothered them.
Going into the kitchenette behind the reception area, Sabrina looked up the supervisor for the building on her cell phone. To her dismay, a woman who couldn’t give her any answers merely referred her to the security personnel. Annoyed as well as anguished now, Sabrina dialed the number the woman had provided.
“Security, front desk. This is Darcy,” a vaguely familiar voice replied at the other end.
“My name is Sabrina Hawk. I want to talk to the security manager
, please.” Sabrina could tell her voice wasn’t entirely steady.
“Ms. Hawk?” The woman at the other end sounded surprised. “This is Darcy Flynn. We spoke a few nights ago.” Darcy Flynn sounded kind and concerned.
“I remember.” In fact, it wasn’t hard to conjure up the image of the compact night watch with her chestnut hair kept in a ponytail. “Is your manager available?”
“I’m afraid my trainee Lacey and I are the only ones available here today, Ms. Hawk. I normally don’t fill in during days, but they were short-staffed—”
“We’ve had a break-in at my office. We have called the police, and I want you up here as well, to explain what’s wrong with the alarm system.” Though realizing full well that none of what had happened was the security guard’s fault, Sabrina couldn’t keep her anger—or concern—out of her voice.
“I’m on my way, ma’am.”
“Good. Thank you.” Sabrina disconnected the call and tried to harness her nerves. She had built her entire life, her future, around this business. She couldn’t allow an incident like this to destroy all the hours, all the sacrifices, no matter who was behind it.
Less than two minutes later, Darcy strode through the door, taking charge. She directed Sabrina’s staff toward the kitchen area, where they sat down by the small bar table.
“I’m sorry this has happened. I can’t imagine how or why the alarm system failed, but I’ll report all findings to SecLife, the security company that provides the alarm service and my employer.” Looking serious, she turned to Sabrina. “Was only your office ransacked?”
“As far as we can tell, nothing else has been moved or stolen.” Sabrina wanted to pace, move around, and shake off some of her jitters, but she remained in the doorway to the kitchenette, having to resort to drumming her fingers against the doorframe. A sound by the outer door made her jump. Two uniformed officers and what she surmised was a plainclothes policewoman stepped inside.
“Sabrina Hawk?” the woman said. “I’m Detective Nadine Lomax.” Tall, with short, mahogany hair, she was dressed in a black leather jacket over a charcoal turtleneck and black jeans, and she gave the impression of being strong and professional. Lomax pointed with her thumb behind her. “Officers Ivers and Taylor.” The two men in uniform nodded politely.
“Thank you for coming so quickly,” Sabrina said, forcing herself to shake Lomax’s hand as she nodded toward the officers. The woman’s grip was firm, but not painful. Sabrina loathed jelly-hands as well as the people who aimed to show you they could break the bones in your hand if they wanted to with their grip. “As Brian told the dispatcher, someone broke into our office. My office. Over there.” She motioned at the closed door farther down the hall.
“Anything missing in there?” Lomax pulled out her notebook and flipped over a few pages.
“At the very least my desktop computer. It’s such a mess in there that I can’t be sure about anything else.”
“Did any of you touch anything in there this morning?” Lomax asked.
“No. We stepped away and called the police,” Brian said from behind Sabrina.
“Good.” Lomax looked around the kitchenette, and when her eyes fell on Darcy, she seemed surprised. “Flynn? Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Lomax,” Darcy said calmly, but it didn’t escape Sabrina’s attention how the security guard clenched her jaws.
The ambiance in the small room was thick enough to drip from the walls, but then the detective and her officers walked down the corridor to Sabrina’s office.
“Why don’t you sit down for a bit, Sabrina? You look pale,” Brian said and rose from his stool. He motioned for the other accountant to join him as he left the kitchenette.
“Thank you.” So relieved she could barely move, Sabrina sat down on one of the vacant stools.
“You can stay here with your security officer,” Lomax said, shooting Sabrina’s employees a look. “I want you to wait outside the office. I saw some couches farther down the corridor. Sit there. We want to talk to all of you, one by one.”
Brian sent Sabrina an apologetic glance, probably because he had promised to deal with the cops and was now unable to.
“Do you think this has anything to do with the other night?” Darcy asked once they were alone in the kitchenette, blindsiding Sabrina enough for her to flinch.
“What do you mean?” Sabrina tried to forestall the barrage of questions she was sure Darcy was ready to level at her.
“I couldn’t help but notice your safety measures in the parking lot. You did ask me to observe you until you reached your car and drove away, after all. Could this break-in have anything to do with that?”
“How would I know?” Sabrina flung her hands up. “How the hell would I know?”
“Well, hypothetically speaking, if you were afraid of someone in your personal life, it would be kind of a stretch to think that such a person would break into your office like a pro.” Darcy smiled gently. “Then again, if you have had threats made to you because of your business, they’re more likely to be connected.”
Sabrina swiveled on the stool, facing Darcy head-on. “Did you contact the people you spoke of yet?” She pressed her trembling lips together, which she knew gave her a stern and unforgiving expression. At least according to her mother.
“Right. I’ll go do that.” Darcy pulled her phone from her pocket. Before she left the kitchenette, she stopped and said, “The police will ask much the same questions. The more open you’re willing to be, the better the chance of them finding out who did this. Just saying.”
Sabrina waited until Darcy was out of sight, but then she had to lean against the high table next to her. She could hardly breathe again and wondered if she was coming down with something or if this shortness of breath was only because of her stress level going through the roof.
She couldn’t tell whether her bad case of nerves was because of the emails, the break-in, or the presence of law enforcement. As she clung to the edge of the table, she heard the police returning from her office. Quickly, Sabrina straightened and pushed her shoulders back. She placed her laced hands on her lap and watched them closely as they joined her.
“I’m going to have some technicians brush for prints. You can help by going through everything in there and deciding what else might be missing.”
“All right. Thank you, Detective.”
“Detective Lomax.” Darcy came into view again but remained in the hallway. “Here’s some information you might find useful. The alarm manufacturer, the security company, and its CEO, my boss—this is their contact information. As far as I know, the system this building uses is very hard to tamper with. The discs from the security cameras will be available shortly.”
“Thank you,” Lomax said and took the note.
“Still trying to be a cop, Flynn?” one of the uniformed officers, Ivers, asked, his tone scornful. “A bit late for that, don’t you think?” Compact and of average height, he had sandy hair and a face that could have possessed a boyish charm if it hadn’t boasted such an ugly sneer.
“Just trying to be of assistance, Ivers,” Darcy said calmly, but her eyes clearly signaled for the officer to back off.
“Perhaps you shouldn’t. We’ve all seen what can happen when you ‘help.’” Officer Ivers made quotation marks in the air with both hands. “That’s usually when the shit hits the—”
“That’s enough, Ivers,” Lomax snapped at her subordinate. “Go get initial statements about routines etcetera from the employees. I’ll follow up with them when you’re done.”
Ivers and Taylor both shot Darcy hostile glares before they left to carry out their orders.
“Sorry about that, Flynn,” Lomax said, looking uncomfortable. Sabrina didn’t think the apology sounded very heartfelt. “You know how it is.”
“Yes. Nothing new.” Darcy pushed her notepad into her back pocket and laced her hands behind her. At first, Sabrina thought the security guard looked unfazed, but then she saw her
swallow hard. “Unless you need me for anything else, I need to get back to my duties in the lobby. My trainee still needs supervision.” She relaxed marginally and smiled politely toward Sabrina. “Don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any questions, Ms. Hawk. Anything at all.”
Sabrina merely nodded, and only when Darcy had exited the outer glass doors did she excuse herself to Lomax and stride into the outer corridor. She caught up with Darcy by the elevators. “Excuse me, Ms. Flynn.”
“Call me Darcy, please.” Darcy turned around. “Was there something else?” Her tone was warmer than it had been while addressing the officers.
“The security tapes from your station in the lobby…I want to watch them. Is there any way I can do that?” Refusing to fidget even if her fingers wanted to tangle with each other and pull hard, a habit from when she was younger, Sabrina watched Darcy’s eyebrows go up in surprise.
“The cops will analyze them,” Darcy said slowly. “I’m sure they’ll have you watch them too if they don’t see anyone they recognize.”
“I know. But they don’t seem too concerned, not really, and I’d like to take a look by myself, if it’s possible.” If she could see the burglar, or burglars, she might find an explanation for the messages. She refused to upgrade them to threats.
“Do you expect to see something—or someone—in particular?” Pressing the button for the elevator, Darcy tilted her head, looking up at Sabrina through her eyelashes. Her eyes of undeterminable color were as stunning as they were inquisitive.
Sabrina didn’t know how to explain without giving too much away. In fact, she loathed to give anything away at all. The corridor around them was cold, with its white walls and marble floor. She had never liked hard, glossy surfaces. “Perhaps,” she admitted reluctantly. “It’s probably nothing, and I wouldn’t want to waste the detective’s time and…” She motioned exasperatedly with her hands.
Darcy stepped closer. “And it could be sensitive.” She lowered her voice. “I do get that, Ms. Hawk—”