Chapter 12
“Nick?”
“Up here, Billy.”
“He’s going to take a look around, and then we can get the place cleaned up,” Nick said.
Poppy managed a nod. Why had this happened to her? Was it random, or did someone hate her so much that they’d destroyed the inside of her house? Him. Has he found me?
“Stop thinking. I can see it’s hurting your head,” Nick said.
“Someone just entered my home and did all this.” She waved a hand around. “I’m entitled to think about it.”
Before Nick could reply, his cousin walked in through the door.
“Hey, Poppy.” Billy gave her a hug.
The Athertons were huggers. It was disconcerting because Poppy wasn’t. It’s not that she didn’t like it, exactly; she just wasn’t used to it.
“Really sorry this happened to you, and so close on the heels of that mugging,” Billy said, releasing her.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll look around first, and then I’ll have some questions for you.”
“Okay.”
“You’re shivering,” Nick said.
“Shivering and thinking is all part of processing all this.” She waved a hand about again.
“I don’t remember that smart mouth in college,” Nick said, moving to her closet.
“You didn’t lose yours,” Poppy said.
“And never will,” Billy said looking at her dressing table.
“What are you doing?” Poppy asked when Nick moved to the open door of her closet and looked inside.
“Here. Put this on.” He handed her a hoodie. It was her writing sweatshirt—big and sloppy. When she didn’t move fast enough, he held it out.
“Hand up.”
“I can put my sweatshirt on, Nick.”
“Your arm is in a sling.”
“The other one works.” Her words were muffled as he dropped it over her head.
“Nick?” a voice called from downstairs.
“Up here, Em.”
“Do you people do everything as a unit?” Poppy asked as the youngest Atherton ran up the stairs and appeared in the doorway. Behind her came another one. The genes in this family, she thought. They were all good-looking.
“Usually,” Nick said.
“Hey, I’m Sam, the hot Atherton. Real sorry you’re going through this, Poppy,” he said.
“Man, this sucks.” Emma studied the mess.
“Big time.” Poppy accepted the inevitable hugs from Emma and Sam.
“Em, you help her pack a bag and then come downstairs,” Nick said. He then walked out of the room with Billy and Sam on his heels.
“Why do I need a bag?” Poppy asked.
“You can’t stay here,” Emma said, diving into the closet and finding a large overnight bag.
“You’re right, I’ll need a hotel for a few nights.” Poppy gave herself a mental shake. First the mugging and now this. It was taking its toll on her, especially when she couldn’t be sure he hadn’t found her and was responsible. The thought of that man stalking her again was terrifying.
“Sit in the chair, Poppy, and I’ll put your socks and shoes on, because even though those slippers are nice, I don’t think you want to wear them outside.”
“I can do that,” Poppy protested.
“With one arm?”
They were forceful, these Athertons, she thought minutes later as she sat in the chair while Emma put the sneakers she’d found on her feet and laced them up.
“Okay, now you direct me, and I’ll load the overnight bag.”
She was too tired to protest, so Poppy told Emma what she needed. When they had the toiletries packed, they were done.
“Okay, let’s head downstairs.”
“I should stay and clean this,” Poppy said, not moving.
“You have to wait until Billy tells you it’s safe,” Emma said, taking her good hand and tugging her to the door.
“You’re as determined as your brother,” she muttered.
“I have four siblings, Poppy, all older. There was no room for indecisiveness, or I’d end up last in the line.”
“And that was bad?” she whispered, concentrating on Emma’s words. Seeing her brother’s picture on the floor with the glass smashed made nausea swirl in her stomach. “Why would someone do this? I don’t understand. I was only gone for two hours, and it’s the middle of the day.”
“Kids that are high and bored. People who are scum. They’re out there no matter how much we wish they weren’t,” Emma said.
“Yes, I know you’re right. You just never think it will happen to you.”
They made it downstairs. She couldn’t see Nick, Sam, and their cousin in her living area, but she could hear their voices coming from the front door.
“Sit. I’ll bring you coffee,” Emma said.
When she’d disappeared into the kitchen, Poppy headed for the men.
“So her bag was snatched, and now this happened,” Billy was saying as she got closer. The words made her stop and listen before they saw her.
“You think there’s a connection?”
“I’d say it’s an odd coincidence if it’s not, Nick. The door was unlocked, not smashed,” Billy added.
The words sent a shiver through her. “Are you saying that whoever has my bag broke in here?”
“Listening to other people’s conversations is rude, Tinker Bell,” Nick said as she walked out the front door.
Poppy straightened her shoulders, which hurt, so she hunched again. “This is my house, so I have a right to overhear. I need to know what I’m dealing with. I should also probably tell you something.”
“What?” Nick demanded.
“Don’t yell at me.”
“Fine. Please continue,” Nick said between his teeth.
“There was this guy a few years ago. We dated for a while. He was really nice at the beginning, and then he started doing strange things, like coming over in the middle of the night and knocking on my door to check I was home.” Nick’s eyes were narrowed and laser focused on her as she spoke.
“I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore; he was persistent and began stalking me.
The police have all the details because I reported it, and he was fined and did probation.
There has been nothing from him for a year, so it’s probably not him, but I thought you should know. ”
Sam whistled.
“And you’re telling us this now?” Nick said.
“I didn’t think it was him. I still don’t.”
“That is not your call to make,” he snapped.
“What is his name?” Billy asked.
“Malcolm Davy,” she said, fighting the shudder. The man had destroyed her life.
“Okay, I’ll look into it,” Billy added. “You’re famous. That kind of thing comes with problems—namely, crazy fans.”
“I’ve had a few of those.”
“I need to hear about any you remember. I’ll get some people in here to take pictures and fingerprints. You heard me say the door wasn’t forced, and no windows appear broken, so it’s possible someone got in using a key, which means it’s likely the guy who took your bag.”
“Where’s your spare?” Nick asked.
“Under a rock in a potted plant.” She didn’t look that way.
Nick sighed loudly.
“What? It’s a perfectly logical place to put a spare key!” Poppy protested.
“Logical to you and pretty much everyone else,” Nick muttered.
Sam went directly to the right plant. Lifting the rock, he removed the key and returned. Handing it to Poppy, he said, “Maybe find somewhere else to put it.”
“Oh God, my calendar was in my handbag,” she blurted.
“You have a lock on your cell phone, though, right?” Nick looked at her.
“Yes, but my calendar is not on my phone.”
“Aren’t you a famous writer? Shouldn’t you be into technology?” He looked annoyed.
“I’m old-fashioned!” Poppy snapped.
“Okay, everyone, calm down,” Billy said. “Tell me what else you carry in your bag.”
“You got an hour?” Nick asked.
“Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?” Poppy glared at Nick as they all headed back inside. She made for the living room and fell in a seat that had nothing thrown on it.
“Just tell me you didn’t put all the codes for your cards and passwords in that diary. Or other personal stuff, like every address and phone number you know. Jesus, Poppy!” Nick said when she stayed silent.
“Shut up and let me think.” Poppy tried to remember exactly what was in her handbag.
She spent the next hour being questioned by Billy, who may appear gentler than his cousins but was not. He was thorough and asked so many questions, her head was aching by the end of the inquisition.
“Okay, so I’ll need to go over some other stuff tomorrow and look into the Davy guy, but I think that’s enough for today,” Billy said. “I want to speak with your neighbors before I leave too.”
“Watch out for Mrs. Leibowitz next door. She’ll lure you in and won’t let you leave,” Poppy said.
“Thanks for the heads-up.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Nick said.
“I was going to call a cab.”
“No point, as we’re going to the same place.”
“What?” Poppy got off the sofa. “I’m going to a hotel.”
“Not happening. You’ll be staying with me.”