Chapter 6

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After putting away her phone, Bailey carefully made her way back to the table. Several people stood, so she wasn’t sure she should sit down again or if she was to go back to her room.

Dakota stepped in front of her and asked, “How are you feeling?”

She gave the question some serious thought. “I’ve been better, but I’m actually not feeling too bad. When I turn the wrong way, it often takes a few minutes for the flare-up to calm down, but overall I’m okay. Why?”

“I want to take you back to your place to get some clothes.”

She grinned. “Oh, I think I can manage a trip for that.”

“You probably shouldn’t go,” he stressed. “Any movement will slow healing so, you have to promise not to do too much.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Even sitting hurts, and I just don’t understand how that could be.”

“Your whole body comes into play with an injury like that. While we’re out, I would like to drive past the alley and look at the actual location and layout of the crime you saw.”

“It probably would be a good idea for me to go back and look too. I don’t know how hazy my memories are, how much shock plays into them.” She glanced down at the bathrobe she wore. “I’m also extremely short on clothes. I can wear my pants again but I don’t have a clean shirt.”

Sienna stood up and looked at her. “I have a light-blue T-shirt that’s sure to fit you and is really soft so should feel nice against your stitches, if you would like to borrow that.”

Bailey smiled. “Thank you. I’d really appreciate it.”

The three of them went back upstairs with Sienna heading off down the hallway to her room. She returned a moment later with the light-blue cotton T-shirt. “Try this.”

They were almost at Bailey’s doorway. She accepted the shirt and said, “Thank you. I’ll try it on.” Facing Dakota now, she said, “Give me five minutes to get dressed.”

Inside she sat down slowly on the bed. Her back really was killing her. She counted the hours and realized it was time for another painkiller. She reached for the bottle, took them and the antibiotics as instructed, swallowing them down with a drink of water.

She straightened a bit and tugged the T-shirt nightgown up and over her head and cried out, but she managed to get it off.

She wasn’t sure she could wear a bra. She walked into the bathroom and checked the height of the bandage with the mirror. It would be close, but maybe Ice could lower the bandage or at least adjust it so the bra strap wouldn’t interfere. She brushed her hair and then tried on the bra, followed by the borrowed T-shirt.

It was a perfect fit. She fingered the lightweight material and smiled. It was supersoft, like a stroke of kindness on her skin. Dressed and unable to make the bed without causing more pain, she slowly opened the door to find Dakota waiting for her. “I put these clothes on, but the socks and shoes,” she confessed, “were beyond me.”

He nodded and stepped into her room, looking at the shoes. “You need socks for these?”

She glanced down at the low-slung ballet shoes. “Maybe that would be a better answer.” She quickly stepped into them and smiled. “We won’t do too much walking, so they should be fine.”

With him at her side, they walked to the SUV. Forty minutes later they approached the outskirts of town. She had taken a few minutes to get her bearings as it wasn’t an area she was accustomed to entering town from. With a few directions, she sent him back to the corner where she had seen the shooting. She didn’t like the idea of walking the area, but there was no other way to make sure nothing was left to find.

He walked around and helped her from the SUV. Merk stood watch.

“Exactly where were you just before the shooting?”

She motioned to the main side of the block. He strode with her to where she’d been standing and carefully led her through the steps she’d taken.

“I came in the alleyway here, and that’s when I saw the men. I kept walking, and then I heard the shot.”

He stopped and stared at her. “No, that doesn’t work. You said the men were inside the alley down here.”

She nodded. “I thought I heard something first and so had stepped in a little bit to see what was going on. But when I saw the three men in their business suits, I just turned and walked away.”

He studied her face for a long moment.

Inside she felt everything go still. He didn’t believe her, or did he? She bit the inside of her lip. “No, that’s not right. I thought I saw something on the ground.”

“What you mean, something?”

She walked back to the opening of the alleyway and pointed to where some crumpled paper was. “I thought it was money.”

He walked over to see the green and white paper and nodded. “Now that makes sense.”

She stood where the paper was. “I turned to look down the alley and had a much better view.”

“So, from here, you saw the three men standing where?”

She pointed at the location. “But, once I realized it wasn’t money, I hurriedly left, and that was when I heard the shot.” She paused. “No, I heard them shouting,” she corrected herself. “I turned around, and that’s when I saw the gun raised, and the tall man shot the third man. I up and bolted.”

“Which direction did you run?”

She pointed to the corner up ahead. “I cut across the traffic and went through that block.”

He turned and studied where she’d run and realized it was a straight line of sight. He nodded. “Okay, so that’s when he shot you. And you carried on down the block a little bit. I was two blocks away when you ran into me.”

She nodded.

He walked a little more into the alley. “Am I standing where the men were standing?”

She frowned and studied the angle. “I only had a really fast glimpse of them.” She pursed her lips. “A little more to the right.”

He stepped to where she said.

She nodded. “I think the three of them were there.”

She walked closer to him. He stopped and slowly looked around on the ground. Mud still covered the alleyway, but it had dried up considerably. The ground had been thirsty for water and, although it was still wet on the surface, it was quickly disappearing.

He reached for a soggy cigarette butt.

“How can you tell if that’s recent?” she asked.

“After the rain, it’s hard to say. For all I know, this is Detective Mannford’s.”

She couldn’t imagine a detective leaving evidence in a crime scene.

But accidents happened. Dakota spent ten minutes looking around the area but found no evidence of a shooting. If there had been blood, it’d been washed away in the downpour. There weren’t even footprints left that matched the scenario. Finally he straightened and smiled at her. “Okay, let’s head to your apartment.”

She smiled with relief. “Good. I don’t like it here.”

“Understandable.” He led her toward the SUV, helping her once again back inside.

Her apartment wasn’t very far away. When they pulled up to the front of the building, there was an odd sense of loneliness. It hadn’t been a happy place for her once Rick got ill. It was the same apartment she’d shared with her husband. They’d been together for so little time before he’d been diagnosed. The pain and sadness and grief overrode the good memories. And for that she was sorry. She’d had a lovely six months with him while he was healthy.

With Merk sitting in the SUV, keeping watch and waiting for them, they walked to the entrance. At the door to her apartment, she quickly unlocked the door and pushed it open. “I shouldn’t need too long,” she said stepping inside. “I just want to get like a week’s worth of clothing.”

He grabbed her arm, and she was jerked to a standstill. She shot him a look, and he motioned toward the apartment. She spun around and gasped. “Oh, my God.”

Her apartment had been trashed.

**

Grimly Dakota surveyed the living space. This hadn’t been a robbery; this had been a message. There wasn’t a couch cushion, a wall, a foot of flooring that wasn’t either damaged or tossed with paint or in some other way destroyed. He quickly walked through to the bedroom to see the same thing. In the bathroom, he stopped to see lipstick on the mirror that read Keep your mouth shut, bitch. He pulled out his phone, quickly updated Merk and took pictures.

Bailey hadn’t seen this yet.

He joined her as they walked through the apartment systematically, taking pictures of the damage. He sent them all to Ice and glanced over at Bailey, but she stood in the hall, leaning against the wall, tears in her eyes and her arms wrapped around her chest. Not frozen but daunted by the task in front of her.

He walked over and nudged her chin up. “We need to see if you have any usable clothes left for you to grab.”

She shook her head. “My God, why vandalize my place like this?”

“The people you saw in the alley are sending a warning to keep you from talking.”

She closed her eyes briefly, then straightened, turned and walked into the bedroom. He helped her find her travel bag among the mess. The vandals had cut the top so the zipper would no longer close, but it would still do for their purposes. If there was anything left to pack. She didn’t have much. Her shirts were cut; things had been ripped off their hangers, and most were damaged from the paint tossed on top.

She glanced around. “I don’t think anything here is salvageable.”

There was so much pain in her voice. This woman who had already lost so damn much, had paid the price for so much and now was faced with the complete ruination of all personal effects in her apartment.

“Do you have anything of your husband’s you want to take?”

She looked at him, startled, and walked over to the night table. It had been pulled out, but underneath was a stack of books, still sitting as if untouched. She pulled out the very bottom one and opened it to show a keepsake box. Inside were their wedding rings, several photos, some folded pieces of paper. She clutched it against her chest. “This is the only thing I need from here. It’s the only thing worth keeping.”

He nodded. “We have to phone the police, make a report for this for insurance.” He winced at his next thought. “Did you have insurance for your contents?”

She looked up at him and shook her head. In a soft voice she whispered, “No. There was no money left over for that. Everything I have is old, used. I sold everything but my business clothes for my job. Then, when I lost that job, it didn’t matter. I could wear casual clothing to my temporary jobs and at my current position.” She looked at the bed. The mattress had been tossed and destroyed. “I can replace everything at a second-hand store. I don’t have the funds yet, but it shouldn’t take too long to get up enough to start again. The clothes are really what I needed the most.” She glanced down at the paint strewn on top of everything. “I just don’t know where to begin.”

Dakota took a serious look. It was almost as if the intruders had deliberately made sure every piece of clothing was destroyed. The dresser was still standing, but the drawers were left open; several drawers were missing, dumped on the floor. Inside he was swearing heavily. It took a real asshole to destroy what little she had left.

Beside him, she said with a humorous note in her tone, “The only good thing about this is, I don’t have much left to move.” And she turned resolutely and left the bedroom.

Dakota watched her walk over a few piles of cushions and knickknacks as she went into the kitchen, where dishes had been dumped, the food jars shattered. On the counter, written in what looked like spaghetti sauce, was the word Bitch. She stared at it for a long time. “They must be really afraid of what I have to say.”

“Terrified.”

She wrapped her arms around her chest. “Could we please go to the nearest department store? I’ll pick up a few necessities for the next couple days.”

As they went to the front door, she paused. She looked in the coat closet, but every jacket had been pulled out and knifed several times.

She didn’t say a word. She just slowly exited the apartment.

Outside in the hallway, Dakota’s phone rang. It was Ice.

“You get whatever she needs in town for a few days. Detective Mannford can see to the apartment.”

“We just have to report this to the superintendent here. She’s only renting.”

“Okay. But, before you leave town, Mannford wants to talk to you.”

“I’ll call him next.”

While Bailey watched, Dakota dialed Detective Mannford. Bailey walked over to the window at the end of the hall and stared out at the world around her.

Dakota put away his phone. “We need to wait for Detective Mannford.”

She bowed her head. “That’s fine. We should talk to the super.”

She led the way back downstairs to the main floor to the last apartment and knocked on the door. An older man answered. When they explained what happened, he shook his head and wanted her contact information. Dakota gave it to him instead and said, “Detective Mannford from the police department is on his way here. They’ll be upstairs taking pictures so we can file a report.”

The super nodded. “I’ll need a copy of that report for the owners.” And he closed the door on them.