Chapter Two #2
She was still staring blankly out the window a few minutes later when he put a coffee on the bench next to her.
“Here you go,” he said. Wrapping his palms around his own mug and leaning back against the countertop.
A glint of gold caught his eye from a delicate cross on a fine chain sitting in the hollow of her throat beneath the collar of the leather jacket.
He’d noticed that she’d touched the necklace just before she’d stepped through her doorway earlier; a habit or an entreaty to God to protect her, he wasn’t sure which.
She wore no other jewelry that he could see; no rings adorned her fingers.
She had her hands clasped in front, but she repeatedly rubbed her right thumb across the palm of her left hand in an unconscious movement that hinted at her agitation, even as her gaze finally focused on him.
“Thank you.” For a fleeting second, he was trapped within the depths of her dark eyes as she regarded him seriously. Equally dark lashes framed her eyes, giving them a sensual vibe that was hard to ignore.
Forcing his gaze back to his cup, he took a careful sip, before asking, “Is there someone I can call for you? To come and be with you? Family perhaps?” No one should have to go through this alone. And he knew he must be a very poor second to having kin or perhaps a boyfriend here.
Summer shook her head. “My family all live in San Jose. I moved up here to go to uni, and well…” she gave a delicate shrug that made him wonder if there was more to the story.
“Blast it! I have to get that camera back,” she said, placing her mug on the countertop with a bang. “It’s my primary camera; I need it to carry out my work.”
That piqued his interest. It sounded like she was a photographer of some kind. “Was it expensive? Is that why they stole it?” he asked.
“Yes,” she agreed. “It’s a top of the range Nikon, worth over $5000.
” Her shoulders slumped. “I was scheduled to leave on a research trip to Montana tomorrow to help document a population of lynx cats. They’re very rare, practically endangered.
I’m going to have to tell them I can’t make it now.
” Her eyes became hard and brittle as she stared down at the mess on her floor.
“I guess I’ll be cleaning this up instead. And sourcing a new camera.”
“So you’re a wildlife photographer?” he asked, hoping to redirect her anger, but also genuinely interested. “And you earn a living from it?” The only photographers M?rten knew captured weddings or portraits. Not animals in the wild. And they often struggled to make ends meet.
Her focus returned to him, and some of the heat went out of her gaze.
“Yes, I generate a good income, actually.” Looking around the apartment, he decided she must be right.
He was no guru on rent prices in Seattle, but even he could tell this was a nice place.
Perhaps someone targeted her for that reason?
Had the thief tried to break into other apartments in this block?
He made a mental note to ensure the police checked that out when they arrived.
“At least I had my computer in my backpack with me, so they didn’t have a chance to take that.
My life’s work is on that laptop,” she mused.
“And I’m insured, so I can replace the camera he stole, but…
” she tapered off at the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
At last, the officers in blue had arrived.
M?rten placed his cup on the countertop and turned to greet them.
He wished he’d thought to put his police shield in his pocket before he left the house this evening, so that he might prove beyond a doubt his credentials.
As it was, the Seattle cops would just have to believe him.
A female dressed in the traditional dark-blue uniform knocked on the open door and stepped through without waiting for an invitation, an older, more rotund male following close on her heels.
“Are you Miss Pérez? The owner of this residence?” the woman asked in an efficient but not unkind tone that M?rten recognized. He adopted a similar approach when he was attending to victims of crime.
“Yes,” Summer confirmed.
“My name is Constable Susan Moreland, and this is Senior Constable Downy.” She gestured to the middle-aged man behind her.
“And is this your boyfriend?” Moreland asked when Summer looked at her expectantly, forgetting to introduce him.
“Oh, gosh, no,” Summer spluttered. “I only met him half an hour ago. He was on the street when I chased the guy outside. His name is M?rten,” she added.
M?rten wasn’t offended by Summer’s vague description; she was still coping with the traumatic situation.
Leaning forward, he offered his hand to the constable.
“M?rten Viskten. I’m an inspector with the Swedish police.
I’m over here on holiday, and just happened to be standing in the street when everything went down.
I pursued the thief, but he eluded me. Then I offered to accompany Ms. Pérez upstairs and waited with her until you arrived. ”
M?rten stood up to his full height as both officers turned to stare at him, evaluating him in a new light now they knew he was one of them.
He seemed to be acceptable to both, because Constable Moreland reached for her small writing pad and pen in her top pocket, and the senior constable inclined his balding head in M?rten’s direction by way of acknowledgement, then said, “Sounds like it was a good thing you were there.”
M?rten stood out of the way while the constable took down Summer’s statement, and Downy perused the room, his sharp, blue gaze missing nothing.
The guy might be overweight, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at what he did.
M?rten had met his kind before in the Swedish force, and they always made up for what they lacked in physical prowess with mental astuteness.
M?rten waited until the officers had finished collecting their evidence, and the constable was talking quietly to Summer just outside the front door, making sure she had an appropriate description of the thief, before he approached Downey.
“Have you had many home invasions in this area recently?” he asked.
“No, this is a good suburb normally,” Downey conceded.
“So, do you think this might be a targeted break-in?” He kept his voice low, not wanting to spook Summer any more than she already was.
The senior constable met his gaze with his own steady one.
“It’s a distinct possibility,” he answered quietly, lifting an eyebrow.
“The amount of damage done would suggest this is more than just a break-in. Also, Ms. Pérez has a lot of expensive items in this apartment. That bicycle over there, for instance, is specialized for triathlons and is made of titanium, worth over $10,000. And she told me some of her other cameras are much more valuable than the one he stole.” M?rten let out a low whistle as Downy stopped and drew in a breath.
“If I were to hazard a guess, it seems as if they were looking for something in particular,” Downy added.
Funny, because M?rten had decided the same thing.
He pursed his lips in agreement, but said nothing as Summer turned a quizzical look in his direction.
“I don’t think she should stay here on her own tonight,” the senior constable muttered out of the side of his mouth.
M?rten liked the way this officer thought.
He was careful in his collection of the fine details, but also considerate of the victim’s feelings as well as their personal safety.
“I agree.” M?rten nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll see what alternatives I can come up with.
” But what was he to do if she rejected all of his suggestions?
Summer struck him as not only a kick-ass woman, but a decidedly stubborn one too.
He gave a heavy sigh. If she refused to leave, then he might just be spending the night in her apartment.
Because one thing was for sure, he wasn’t leaving her alone.