Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kendrick was trying hard to control his rage.
It wasn’t easy. Someone had invaded his babygirl’s space. What if she would have come home by herself to find her knob broken and her door half open?
Or worse yet, what if she would have been home when they broke in? He could just imagine Little Samantha in bed by herself, waking up to the sound of someone kicking in her door and barging in.
His fists were balled so tightly that his knuckles were white.
He took deep breaths and tried hard to calm down. He’d mastered the art when he was on the Force. The streets were filled with chaos. One had to find a calm center in order to keep from going mad.
It didn’t take too long for the cops to look things over. At first, Samantha had voiced hesitation in even calling them, feeling she didn’t even have enough stuff inside to worry about.
But Kendrick had convinced her of the need to involve the police. This could have been a targeted attack. He didn’t think his Little girl had any enemies. But a stalker perhaps? A guy who knew she was a single—or formerly single—woman who lived on her own?
The intruder had struck at night. That’s when people were usually home. Meaning, if someone broke in at night, they often had the intent of hurting the occupants inside the residence.
Cat burglars preferred the daylight hours when folks were at work. They preyed upon empty houses and loathed confrontation.
This incident seemed personal to Kendrick. His years investigating crimes told him that much.
He didn’t know the officers who responded to the call.
That wasn’t unusual. Los Angeles had a huge force.
It was nearly impossible to know everyone on it.
Especially as you moved up the ranks. Years had passed since Kendrick was a rookie.
New people joined every day. There were hundreds he wouldn’t recognize.
That number was growing the longer he was away, too.
He found himself unimpressed with these two.
A young man and woman, they seemed more annoyed to be fielding the call than eager to do their job.
Kendrick assumed he knew why. A tiny garage apartment in a “bad” neighborhood.
Not much stolen. No leads. Probably would never be solved.
Just one of the thousands of small crimes that happened in LA all the time. No big deal. Right?
It was a huge deal to Kendrick. This was his sweet girl.
One thing was for sure—she needn’t worry about whoever did this coming back. Samantha would be staying at the mansion.
The officers looked around, took a report, and then gave the line about being in touch.
They’d never be in touch, but Kendrick didn’t tell them he knew the truth.
Once the patrol SUV pulled away, Kendrick said, “They won’t be of any help.”
“I figure this is low-profile,” Samantha said, walking back inside her apartment and looking around. “So weird that they didn’t take much.”
Kendrick nodded in agreement as he silently examined the room again.
It didn’t take him long, either. There truly wasn’t much to look over.
Just one room that made up the tiny kitchen, living area, and bedroom.
There were two doors in the boxy space—one leading to a small bathroom, the other to an even smaller closet.
When he was done, he said, “And they only took some clothes?”
“Yeah.”
“But not from your closet?”
“No. They were in my bathroom.”
He thought about it for a moment and then voiced the question that sent a chill down his spine. “Was it your underwear or anything personal like that? Something a perv would want?”
She giggled. “You don’t want to see me in my underwear?”
“Hell yeah. But seeing you in your panties is different than breaking in your home and stealing your panties.”
“Oh gosh. You’re right about that. Gross.” She shook her head. “No. It was just an outfit I’d worn. No underwear or anything.”
She looked as if she wanted to add more, but no further information came. Kendrick let it go.
But once again, he had the suspicion that she wasn’t telling him everything.
“All right,” he said. “I think you should stay with me. Just to be sure whoever did this doesn’t come back when you’re here by yourself.
” He went on to explain what he’d been thinking, about criminals who strike at night are different than ones who rummage through a house during the day.
He finished by saying, “You’ll be safe with me. Always.”
Samantha wore a sly grin as she asked, “And this has nothing to do with you wanting to see me in my underwear?”
Kendrick laughed. “A little. Yeah. But it’s mostly about keeping you safe.”
“I’m fine with both,” she said. “Right now, though, I need to get dressed for work. I’m already running behind because we had to talk to the cops. I’m going to be pushing it to get to the diner on time.”
“Surely they’ll understand,” he told her. “I mean, you can’t help you were robbed.”
Samantha didn’t seem so convinced, and Kendrick wondered if her boss was a real a-hole or something. Come to think of it, he hadn’t noticed anyone he thought was the manager the two times he’d been to the restaurant. He doubted it was that older waitress he’d talked to.
Samantha stepped closer to the closet—it was too small to step inside—but quickly turned around, red-hot anger flushing her cheeks. “Hey! They stole my uniform!”
“What?”
“I didn’t notice until now! But it usually hangs right here.” She pointed to where the clothes in her closet were parted. “The hanger is there, but the uniform is gone.”
Kendrick looked around, but he didn’t expect to find it. Everything was visible in that tiny apartment. “Could it be in the washing machine or the dryer?”
She shook her head. It took her a moment to answer, as if she was grasping to comprehend all that was happening. He’d been around plenty of break-in victims before. It was a jarring experience when one’s personal sanctuary was invaded.
“I don’t have machines of my own. But I swear I brought it home from the laundry mat and hung it right here. I always do.”
She looked as if she wanted to sink to the floor in despair.
Taking hold of her arms, Kendrick said, “Hey, hey. It’s okay. We’re going to get through this. You’re not alone.”
He held her close for a moment, feeling some of the tension draining her body as she sagged under the support of his arms.
A kiss on the top of her head seemed to further help.
After a groan, Samantha said, “We probably better go now. The owner, Mr. Tress, is going to be there today. He’s a hardass. It’s not going to go over well that I lost my uniform.”
“Again, honey, this isn’t your fault. You can’t help what happened to you.”
“Tell that to Mr. Tress! He’s not the type to cut any slack.”
Kendrick held Samantha’s hand as they left, smiling to himself.
It wouldn’t bother him to tell off this Mr. Tress. Not one damn bit…