Chapter 7

7

At Kinsley's studio apartment in an historical section of Portland, Dev shoved the front door wide open and took in the troubling scene inside. "Whoa!"

Colin pushed past him into the main living area. "What in the world do we have here?"

Dev remained rooted in place. Shocked. Surprised. He'd expected to find Kinsley's tiny place neat. She'd always been orderly. Came from her mother's demands, the one thing she hadn't even considered rebelling against back in the day. But this was more than messy. Her place had been trashed.

Colin turned to Dev, a grim look in his eyes. "What do you think happened here?"

Dev ran a hand over his face, hoping when he removed it the chaos in front of him would have disappeared. No such luck. "Someone trashed the place looking for something."

Someone had jerked out the drawers of Kinsley's desk in the corner and dumped the contents on the floor. Oddly, the laptop remained in place on the desktop. The matching bookshelf had been emptied, leaving three-ring binders and reference books lying on the wood floor.

The intruder had slit open her daybed's mattress covering and upended the mattress, leaving its pale gray comforter in a crumpled heap next to a nightstand holding cosmetics in a tray. The items in the nightstand's three drawers were discarded on the floor, too, and a small coffee table devoid of any decoration sat in front of it undisturbed.

Colin gripped the back of his neck with both hands. "How did they get in here?"

Dev looked at the deadbolt and the frame. "This is intact." He took a closer look at the lock. "Scratches on the deadbolt. Lock could've been picked."

Colin met his gaze. "If so, we could be looking at an experienced criminal. Not only a shooter, but someone who has the means to gain entry to places they shouldn't go."

Dev's mouth went dry, and he swallowed the cottony feeling away. "Makes him more dangerous than we thought."

Colin turned his attention to the apartment. "Not many things to look through here. Really just the desk and bookshelf in the corner."

"Agreed," Dev said, taking in the last of the studio apartment.

A simple kitchen with just the basics a single person would need to get by filled the back wall. All the cabinet doors had been flung open and the contents spilled on the floor. A door led off to the left. A quick glance inside confirmed it was the bathroom, and the small vanity's contents lay scattered over the black and white vintage tile floor.

Dev turned. "I have gloves in my SUV. Can you grab them?"

"Be right back." Colin took off out the door, and Dev stared across the room. They needed to look at items from the bookshelf. The desk too. They could be the reason for the break-in.

Colin returned and handed Dev a pair of disposable gloves on his way into the room.

Dev slipped on the gloves and joined Colin in the corner but didn't know which item to start with. "Kinsley didn't make this mess. That's for sure."

Colin put on his gloves. "I always liked that she was neat and once hoped, since you spent so much time with her, you would pick up on it. Sharing a room with you was a challenge."

Dev couldn't argue. He could be a real slob if he wasn't careful, where Colin liked things neater. "You're not the only one who had a challenge. The line of masking tape you rolled out along the middle of the floor was a real pain.

"But you still didn't keep your things on the other side of the line."

He held his brother's gaze. "This is more than someone letting their stuff fall over a ridiculous tape line."

Colin gave a disgusted snort. "The tape was necessary for my sanity."

"Hey, man. I tried and failed. What more can I say?" He couldn't stand around wasting time any longer. He had to accept that Kinsley's place had been defiled by someone and commit to a course of action to find that someone.

He picked up the closest three-inch binder. A large typed label stating the year was affixed to the front. Inside, labeled divider tabs held names of what he assumed were investigations.

"Kinsley said all of the investigative information is on her computer. If all of these binders contain investigation details we shouldn't need them." Dev moved to the next book, then the next, and the next, each one labeled with the year and holding investigation materials neatly ordered.

The plethora of photos on the pages were more interesting than he expected. She'd included not only pictures for construction sites or of the products, but of people involved in the investigation as well as their background information printed from the internet.

He looked at his brother. "If this break-in is related to the investigations Kinsley was involved in, and the intruder wanted the info, you'd think some of these files would be missing."

"Makes sense." Colin sorted through a fistful of materials from the floor. "We should bring the binders back to the cabin. We can cross-reference them to the computer files in case one or more of them are missing."

Dev liked where this was going. "Perhaps taken by our suspect and giving us his name."

"Or not." Colin narrowed his eyes. "There's another way to look at it. Whoever trashed this place was obviously looking for something smaller than these binders. If not, they wouldn't have emptied all the little drawers and cabinets."

What if Colin was right? He could be, but it was too early to tell. "Maybe trashing the whole apartment was to make us think they weren't looking for the binders and throwing us off their scent."

Colin tapped the laptop in front of him. "Then if they wanted their file, wouldn't they have taken this too?"

Dev hadn't thought of that, but Colin had a valid point. "You could be right. But we'll still take these binders."

"And we should have Kinsley go through the place to see if anything is missing."

Her. Here? No way. Dev's heartbeat picked up. "Good plan, but I don't want her coming here."

"I don't either, but she might have to. The whole team should be able to ensure her safety."

"That will be Plan B. First, I'll take detailed pictures of every inch of this place, and she can review them from the safety of our cabin." Dev reached into his pocket for his phone.

"And while you've got that out, maybe you should give Kinsley a call and tell her about this. Ask her what she might think someone would want to steal here."

"No!" Unease settled in Dev's heart. "It isn't the kind of information I'll give her over the phone. It'll be bad enough telling her in person."

Colin studied him, his eyes assessing in the exact older brother way as when Dev had done something wrong as a kid. "You've got it bad, man. Real bad."

Dev ignored him and finished taking pictures.

Colin stood. "We should call the police."

The right thing to do, but that didn't mean Dev would do it. Though, in his deputy days, he would've crucified someone who'd discovered a break-in and didn't report it right away. "You know the person closest to the victim is frequently the person who perpetrated the crime."

"And your point is?"

"The responding officer will point their attention at us, wasting valuable time. Besides, Kinsley might not want this reported at all, and as the leaseholder, it's her decision."

"You're right. But if she agrees, it would be good if the police took this seriously and didn't simply file a report and forget about it. The more people looking into it the better."

His brother had a point. "I can call the detective from the parking lot shooting and explain why we think this is related to our shooter."

Colin gave a vigorous nod. "That could help get them onboard."

"Then let's grab these binders and head back to the cabin so Kinsley can decide what she wants to do." He picked up the nearest stack to make his way through the mess to the door.

His thoughts went back to Colin's comment. Dev knew exactly what he'd been talking about when he said Dev had it bad. His feelings for Kinsley. Plain and simple. If his emotions were that obvious to his brother, was Dev coming across equally as obvious to her?

If so, he needed to concentrate on the drive home to find a way to mask them. No way he wanted to add to her unease. Not ever, but especially not when he broke the difficult news that her personal world and sanctuary had been violated by an unknown foe who could still be gunning for her.

Kinsley tried to concentrate on unpacking the box of memories and sharing and laughing with Jada and Sandy over each item. But she couldn't. She kept glancing at the clock on the fireplace mantle. Dev and Colin were taking much longer to get back than planned. He'd texted to say they were on their way, but gave no reason for the delay. Of course her mind went to all kinds of difficulties they might've run into.

Things like the shooter appearing and firing at them. Or maybe they'd gone in pursuit of the shooter. Or had something else life-threatening occurred?

She just couldn't seem to let go of her worry for him.

Sandy took her hand. "When Dev was a deputy and Colin in the FBI, I worried for their safety all the time. But you know what? My worry did no good. It just made things more difficult for me. I should've simply trusted God to watch over my sons."

She was picking up on Kinsley's worry. She supposed she hadn't hidden it very well, but she didn't want to acknowledge it out loud, so she didn't say anything at all.

Sandy squeezed her hand. "Let's go ahead and pray for them now. Then let it go and enjoy looking at all of these memories. Well, maybe except for that hideous lamp." She laughed.

Kinsley glanced at the lamp with beige ceramic ribs and orange and black ceramic feathers circling the middle. It had an equally unattractive, large drum shade in a worn and fraying burlap-looking fabric. She had to agree that the lamp was gaudy by today's design standards, but she remembered flicking the light off at night and telling stories with Jada in the dark, each with a flashlight in their hands. She couldn't imagine going back to the cabin right now with the lights out.

She couldn't imagine going back there at all until the shooter targeting her was apprehended. Targeting her. Not just her. Her friends now, too.

Which brought her back to wondering if Dev and Colin had come under attack.

"Come on, child," Sandy said. "Focus now and let's pray."

Sandy gripped her hand tightly and led the three of them in a prayer for the men's safety. And for Kinsley's and Jada's safety, too. Kinsley added Sandy's name at the end for good measure.

Sandy clutched her shirt at the chest. "You can't think that I am in danger too."

She didn't want to tell the truth and worry Sandy, but she wouldn't sugarcoat it. "I think anyone who is near me is in danger. So that would include you and all the men who are trying to protect me."

"I agree with her, Mom," Jada said. "Which means you need to stay in the house unless someone else is with you."

"Well, of course if you think that's what I need to do, then that's what I'll do." She skimmed her hand over her hair as if to straighten it when every piece of the chin-length cut was already in perfect order.

This was her go-to move when she was extremely stressed, adding to Kinsley's worry.

No. Let it go. Let God take over. He'll protect everyone. He just has to.

"Look at this." Jada lifted out of the box a pair of cropped T-shirts displaying graphics of the Backstreet Boys. "The best boy band ever."

"We had such terrible crushes on them." Kinsley took her shirt and held it up against her chest. It featured Kevin Richardson, and Jada's shirt held a picture of Nick Carter.

Jada raised an eyebrow. "Among other people."

Kinsley wasn't sure who she was referring to, but maybe Jada had known about her secret crush on Dev.

"I don't know." Kinsley hugged her shirt against her chest. "There was no one like Kevin. He was so dreamy."

Kinsley laughed, and Jada joined in.

Sandy snickered. "All I know is if I had to hear any of their records one more time, I might've lost my sanity."

"Was it that bad?" Jada asked.

"Worse," Sandy said. "I thought when they played a concert in Portland, and we couldn't get tickets, the two of you might take off on your own and try to get backstage."

Kinsley glanced at Jada and then back at Sandy. "We talked about it."

"I knew it!" Sandy pumped her fist.

Kinsley got into the fun of things and slipped on her T-shirt over her blouse, then pointed at Kevin's picture. "Do you blame us? Just look at him. A dreamier teenage heartthrob never existed. I was so-o-o in love with him."

She started to twirl like a lovesick teenager and found the front door had silently opened. Dev held the handle and stared at her, a question in his eyes.

She pointed at her shirt. "Kevin Richardson. The Backstreet Boys. My teenage crush."

He tightened his jaw. "Glad you're having fun."

He was upset about something. Did he really think they shouldn't be having fun while he was working on her behalf? Or did her teenage crush on Kevin bother him? Why would he care about that silly crush? He wouldn't. Short of reading his mind or asking him about it, she wouldn't get an answer. Best to just move on.

"Just trying to pass the time until you got back," she said, hoping to placate him. "You were gone for so long, I was worried. Did you run into trouble?"

He grimaced. "We should sit down and talk about that."

"That doesn't sound good." She quickly removed her T-shirt, taking care not to damage it. "Did someone get hurt?"

"No, we're both fine." He gestured at the sofa. "Go ahead and take a seat so we can talk."

His dire tone completely erased her good mood. Whatever Dev had to say wasn't going to be good news for sure. Part of her wished he would just rip the Band-Aid off and come out with it. The other part of her, the biggest part of her, didn't want to hear the news. Not at all.