Chapter Three
SUMMER CLOSED THE door behind the two police officers with a sigh.
She didn’t hold out much hope that they’d find the thief.
He’d disappeared like a ghost into the ether.
She’d never get her camera back now. The young female constable had seemed compassionate, as though she wanted to be of assistance, but Summer knew through harsh experience that was most likely just a front.
They weren’t going to help her. They’d smile and say the right things, but in the end it would all come to a big fat nothing.
Why had the burglar targeted her apartment, though?
And why had he taken only one of her cameras?
Was it because she’d caught him in the act and it was all he could get away with?
It was strange and surreal, and she could barely wrap her head around it.
To top things off, Senior Constable Downy had knocked on all the nearby doors, but no one had heard a thing.
At least not until she’d started shouting and chasing him down the stairs, but by then it was too late.
Convenient. Also highly unsatisfactory, as well as quite unsettling.
How had the guy even got into the building?
Someone must’ve let him in. Either that or he had the code, and both options were equally disturbing.
She turned away from the door to see M?rten’s tall frame lounging against the kitchen countertop, and her heart did a silly little flutter. He was good-looking; she’d give him that much. But it was high time to send him home so she could deal with this mess.
She thought she’d got used to the sight of her trashed apartment, but it still stole the breath from her lungs when she turned around and took it all in again.
Dirt from her many potted plants was all over the floor and ground into the rug; a lot of her keepsakes and ornaments, some of them precious heirlooms from her grandparents, lay broken and smashed.
The thief had even taken a knife and slashed her couch cushions, so they’d need to be replaced. Where was she going to start?
Steeling herself, she tried to put the shambles from her mind and turned her thoughts to getting rid of M?rten.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me tonight.
” She took a few steps toward him. “But you must have somewhere else to go. I’ve held you here long enough.
” She remembered now that he was visiting from Sweden, and she was mortified that he might have someone anxiously waiting for him, a girlfriend or a family back in a hotel somewhere.
She clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh blast, I hope I haven’t kept you from anything important. ”
“No, it’s fine. I called my friend Jacob earlier and told him what was going on. I’m staying at his place a few blocks over from here, it’s all good.”
“Oh…great.” She sank against the countertop, overcome with heavy fatigue. Then her stomach rumbled loudly, reminding her she still hadn’t eaten, and it was now nearly midnight, but she was too tired to bother. There was no way she could cook anything in her destroyed kitchen anyway.
She noticed M?rten had made no move to leave. “Will you be alright to get back by yourself?” she queried, wondering why he was still lounging in her flat and not high-tailing it out of the door like any normal male whose job was now finished might’ve done.
“Of course, I’ll be fine. But…” he hesitated, and she had the distinct impression he was trying to find a way to couch his next words in the best style possible.
“But… I don’t think you should stay here tonight.
Not on your own, anyway.” M?rten’s disconcerting silver eyes fixed on her.
“Do you have somewhere you can go? A boyfriend? Or a friend’s place? ”
She was about to argue and tell him she’d be fine by herself, but another glance at the mess surrounding her and that cold fatigue settled more heavily on her shoulders, a lump as big as stone forming in her stomach. This chaos felt so overwhelming.
Summer freely admitted that she was a bit of a neat freak, but some of her friends went so far as to joke occasionally that she had a touch of OCD.
That wasn’t the case; she just liked everything to be in its correct place.
And she liked her life to run on schedule.
She appreciated routine, and if she couldn’t have routine, then she preferred planning, lots and lots of planning.
She usually took weeks to plan a field trip or a photo shoot.
Like this one to Montana, she’d been asked two months ago to join the team and had been prepping for the trip ever since.
Spontaneity wasn’t one of her strong suits.
So, this upending of her home made her feel as if she’d lost all control over her life.
And she needed to get that authority back.
She was like a boat adrift at sea without it.
But right now she was stuck, as though she were in limbo, unable to move forward or back.
Maybe M?rten was right; she needed to get out of here, at least for tonight, gather her wits and return tomorrow recharged.
She twisted her hands together while she contemplated an answer to M?rten’s question.
“No boyfriend,” she acceded, staring out the window.
And wasn’t that an understatement; she hadn’t had a proper boyfriend since Marco.
The few times she’d dated in the twelve years since had all ended after only a few weeks.
No man was worth the risk. The risk to her heart or the risk to her well-controlled life.
As Marco’s name entered her mind, images of him swam to the surface.
Of his eager, youthful face, so full of promise and vitality.
But more gruesome memories soon replaced them, of blood and screaming and pain.
Summer grimaced, then shrugged off the visions, forcing her mental walls to slam back into place, keeping the echoes of that time locked safely away.
Returning to the present, she remembered M?rten’s question about friends.
“Bianca is in the Arizona desert on location, filming for her next production. She’s my best friend,” she added when M?rten raised an eyebrow.
If she were going to call anyone in an emergency, it would be Bianca.
She was the person who understood her the most. It wasn’t like she had no one else to call on, however.
And so she mentally went through the list of her other close friends.
Josie and Mark were planning their upcoming wedding in three weeks, and while they’d welcome her into their home without question, Summer was loath to impose.
Josie’s mother had flown in a few days ago to help with the million and one things that had to be finalized, and Josie was already moaning that her mother was driving her crazy with her pathological need to make everything perfect.
While Mark had taken to spending more and more time holed up in his study to avoid the two bickering women.
The last thing they needed was a distraught bridesmaid on their doorstep. No, she couldn’t call them.
Trent would be here in a flash if she asked.
He’d take her into his arms and fuss over her, even give up his bed for her if necessary.
But he was out on a first date tonight with the hot man he’d been talking about for weeks, and Summer didn’t want to interrupt the possibility of new love, fragile as it could be.
There were others, Serena and Mayte, who she knew she could reach out to, but they’d both be busy with their own lives this late on a Friday night.
Either in bed fast asleep, or out on the town having fun, and Summer hated to inconvenience them.
Mayte often said Summer was too self-sufficient, and she was always reminding her that friends were there to lean on, to care about her and for her to care about in return.
But even though she was in a plight, Summer still hesitated to call them.
She’d already mentioned to M?rten that her family lived in San Jose.
God, she missed her sisters every day, all three of them, including when they were all talking at once and she couldn’t get a word in edgeways.
She missed her mother’s calm aura, a balm to her sensitive soul.
She even missed her father’s gruff manner and grizzled face; he was a man of few words, but he had a heart of gold underneath.
But it’d been her choice to move away, and she had no one else to blame but herself.
So, although she wanted her family right now, they weren’t an option.
No, she’d get through this on her own, like she always did.
Independence meant freedom. Not having to rely on anyone else for your emotional or physical needs meant freedom.
And freedom was what she craved most of all.
Freedom gave you control. And when you controlled your own destiny, then nothing could ever hurt you.
“I’ll be fine here on my own,” she said quietly, but with determination. This was her choice, and she’d get through it unaided.
A sudden twinge of pain made Summer look down at her hands.
Her left palm was chafed where she’d been rubbing her thumb over and over the old scar criss-crossing from one side to the other, leaving it inflamed.
She closed her hand into a fist, hoping M?rten hadn’t noticed.
It was a bad habit, a behavior she couldn’t seem to break.
“What about a neighbor?” he asked. Summer shuddered at the idea.
Of the four apartments on the fifth floor, the only other tenant she knew by name was Tad, across the landing.
And that was only because he’d tried to flirt with her on so many occasions when she first moved in, with such determination, that she’d had to say mean things to get rid of him, and he now ignored her.
But he was still a creep, and she was aware that he ogled her butt whenever he climbed the stairs behind her.