Waiting for Romeo (16 page)

“I’m sorry I hurt you…if I could erase that night I would do it. I know I need to regain your trust and I will do whatever it takes…I hope you believe me.”

“I believe you, Logan. I know you’re sorry.”

“Sometimes losing what matters most to you…makes you realize all the rest is just bull shit.”

“Are you quoting Shakespeare again?” I tease.

He smiles. “No, that’s an original.”

“And, here I thought you could only profess your true feelings through Shakespeare or some other great literary work.”

“You don’t think it sounds flowery enough?” He jokes.

“You know everything you say makes my heart skip a beat.” I flutter my lashes, sweetly at him.

“If you keep flirting with me, I can’t be responsible for my actions.” He smiles as he pulls me in his arms.

I laugh. “Okay, okay…you made your point. I can’t be late again.” I stand, pulling him with me from the bench as we continue to walk.

“It’s weird.” I say off topic.

“It’s weird that I can’t be responsible for my actions?” He gives me a confused look.

I laugh. “No. Sorry I was thinking about the painting. I thought my dad only did landscapes. I’ve never known him to do any portraits.”

“It’s the only portrait I saw in his studio…that’s why it caught my eye. Well, that and its beautiful subject. Is it possible you saw it when you were younger and you just don’t remember it?”

I think for a minute. “It’s possible.”

“I can’t convince you to change your mind about tonight?”

“Sorry. I’ve got too much work to do. I’m way behind in everything and I really need to get caught up before my GPA goes down the toilet.”

“Somehow I find that hard to believe…I’m sure your GPA is far from going down the toilet.” He laughs. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Those are his last words before we turn into the parking lot of Spyder. But my mind quickly goes from asking how in the world will I get all my work done to why in the world is there a police car parked at the back door?

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE BACK DOOR IS KICKED IN. That’s the first thing we notice as we approach the store. In the storage area in the back, where Rosemary and I unloaded boxes of shirts and shorts not too long ago, clothes are strewn all over the floor. The neat stacks of sweatshirts, shirts, bathing suits and bags of flip-flops, suntan lotion, and hats that we worked so hard at organizing lay in shambles, tossed about like a hurricane blew through it.

We hear voices in the front of the store and head in that direction. The rest of the store looks like the storage area, but even worse because there’s more merchandise covering the ground. The drawers at the front desk are left open and the contents of the shelves behind the counter are all in a pile on the ground. It seems nothing has been left unturned, including the cds. Their plastic covers are all open, cds left inside, and dumped along with all sunglasses out of their cases.

The only thing not heaped in the various piles across the store: the surfboards. I think that’s a good thing too because they are without a doubt the most expensive, but more importantly precious items to Sam. If they were scratched, scraped, dinged or damaged in any way…or even worse…stolen…Sam would be out for blood. Thankfully, the boards are in their wooden slots, standing vertical and not appearing to have been even touched.

Sam and Rosemary stand in the middle of the store talking to two police officers. I quickly recognize the female detective. It’s not her short, heavy-set stature or her long hair swept in a bun, which make her recognizable…it’s those large, piercing brown eyes behind the tortoise shell glasses that make her unmistakable. The male officer next to her is opposite in her stature. He’s tall and thin. His skin is fair with freckles scattered across it. When he takes his hat off to scratch the top of his head, I see he’s completely bald. There’s just a splattering of more reddish freckles, making me think he once had a head full of red hair.

Their eyes all turn towards us when they see us approach them. Detective Fernandez nods her head at me, probably remembering me from our interview for Studio One. She’s a detective so no doubt once she meets someone a face is forever embedded in her mind. I catch her glancing at Logan and by her sudden change of expression; I see she too isn’t immune to his good looks. But her gaze quickly snaps from him back to her small notebook she holds in her hand. The male officer’s eyes follow us until we join them in the middle of the room. Sam is the first to talk.

“This is Emilia King. She works here.” Sam says.

“Yes. I’ve met Emilia.” Detective Fernandez replies. “She interviewed me for the college news show.” I feel everyone’s eyes on me.

I nod. “Hi.” I glance at the other officer.

“This is my partner, Detective Sean Rooney.” His name definitely suits his Irish looks.

“And this is Logan Prescott.” Sam continues his introductions.

“Do you mind if I take a look around, sir?” Detective Rooney asks Sam.

“Of course not, let me know if I can get you anything.” Sam says.

While Detective Rooney moves about the store, scribbling notes on his own pad that he pulls out of his back pocket, the rest of us continue standing with Detective Fernandez.

“I’m sure Emilia can tell you about the rash of burglaries we’ve had recently in the area. Several student homes as well as dormitories were broken into…at least six and a couple more attempts.” She says matter-of-factly.

“And you think they are all related?” Sam asks.

“We believe so.” She nods.

“You said homes and dormitories, but have there been any businesses that have been burglarized?” Rosemary frowns.

“No. Alarms, more times than not, deter burglars.” She glances at both Sam and Rosemary. “Is there a reason why your alarm wasn’t switched on?”

I know this is a bit of a hot topic for Sam and Rosemary. Rosemary always wants it on and gets annoyed when she finds it not on when she’s opening the store or has to come in later to drop something off during off-hours. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard her lecture Sam about the importance of the alarm. But Sam is Sam and if it were up to him, he’d probably leave the front door wide open rather than locking it…so the thought of switching on the alarm is not even something on his radar. He’s a trusting laid-back soul.

“Shit, Sam.” She glares at him. “See? If you had just turned on the alarm like I’m constantly nagging you about this would have never have happened.”

He shrugs. “Sorry.”

“I see.” Detective Fernandez says. “So as far as you know just some cash was taken?”

“Yes…three hundred dollars. Do you think these other burglaries are related to this one?” Rosemary asks.

“We don’t know at this point. The other burglaries nothing was taken…just things tossed around like the person was looking for something.”

“That was like our place.” I say.

“Your place was broken into too?” Rosemary’s mouth drops open. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

I shrug. “It wasn’t a big deal…nothing was taken.” I push back the thought of Bryn’s silliness about her shoes. Now is definitely not the time to laugh. “Logan was nice enough to have an alarm installed for us.”

“Yes, in those cases nothing was taken. The student homes and dormitories were broken into over break…more than likely the individual was looking for cash, jewelry, iPads, iPods, laptops…any electronic devices. And, kids tend to take that stuff with them…not always, but usually.”

“You said individual. So, you think it’s just one person?” Logan asks.

“Yes. Now, I’m sure this burglary is just that, but we do have to ask some other routine questions, if you don’t mind.” Detective Fernandez asks.

“Sure.” Sam and Rosemary say in unison.

“Do you have any disgruntled employees? Anyone you’ve ever fired that might be upset with you?”

“No. Emilia is our only employee…our son helps when he’s home from college but that’s it.” Rosemary explains.

“Now, besides the cash is there anything else you can think of someone may have been looking for?” Detective Fernandez continues her questions.

“We have an iPod and a docking station, but I bring those home every night. Is that what you mean?” Rosemary asks.

“Yes. Anything else? You don’t have a safe here?” The detective asks.

“No. We never keep more than a few hundred dollars here…always put in the bank or we keep it on ourselves until we get to the bank.” Sam says.

“Any other electronic devices you leave here that you may have forgotten? I just want to make sure we aren’t missing anything.” Detective Fernandez smiles, kindly.

Rosemary shakes her head.

Detective Fernandez glances at Sam for a response.

Rosemary laughs. “You’ll have to excuse my husband. He’s usually out surfing…even if I had a laptop or an iPad or anything else here…he wouldn’t have a clue. He probably isn’t even aware we have an iPod.”

“That’s not true…I’m not that clueless. I know there’s music playing in the store. I’ve seen that little gizmo. I don’t know how to use it, but I know it has a bunch of songs stored on it.”

I smile at Sam and I notice so does everyone else with amusement in their expressions.

“Okay so no other electronics.” Detective Fernandez confirms. “Do you keep any drugs around here? I don’t mean to offend you, but any sort of drugs…prescription painkillers or anything? There are some pretty awful people who sell that stuff around here. They’ll break into people’s places just to get it and sell it on the streets.”

“No.” Rosemary says, positively.

Detective Fernandez glances at Sam.

“No, of course not. I may not know about the electronics lying around here, but I do know there are no narcotics.”

“So, nothing else of value you can think of?” Detective Fernandez glances at all of us as we all shake our heads except for Sam.

“The boards…they’re the most valuable.” Sam says. He’s right. They are, without a doubt, the most expensive things we have in the store. But I smile to myself at the amusing analogy that pops into my head: Surfboards are to Sam what shoes are to Bryn.

Detective Fernandez finishes with her questions and assures us the police are taking all of these burglaries very seriously. She hands us each her card and tells us if there’s anything we can think of that might be important to the case we shouldn’t hesitate to call her.

Just as she turns from us, Detective Rooney returns from the storage area and approaches us.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asks.

“Not really. Do any of you smoke?” Rooney glances at all of us.

“No.” We all reply and shake our heads.

He pulls back out his notepad from his back pocket and scribbles something on it.

“Why?” Sam asks.

“There’s quite a bit of cigarette ash on the ground at the point of break in…the back door…as well as on the floor in the storage area. You sure you never step out back for a quick smoke.”

We all shake our heads.

“Well, we have one fact. Your burglar likes cigarettes. Fortunately, he didn’t leave any lying around…then we’d be investigating an arson.”

“Well, that’s one hell of a silver lining.” Sam asserts.

WE ARE SITTING IN A CAFÉ, called State & Fig, on State Street, just a few doors down from Spyder. Sam and Logan’s day of surfing temporarily put on hold, while the four of us worked frantically to clean up the store, with the hope the Suttons can re-open it tomorrow. After the police left, we spent the next six hours picking up, folding, and stacking the mounds of clothes tossed on the floor.

My plan to go home and start on my insane amount of homework is delayed just a little longer. I reason that I am not only starving, but could also use the time to talk to Logan. I can’t shake my thoughts of Sebastian ever since the police officer mentioned the burglar smoked. By the way Logan glanced at me, I’m under the impression he shared the same thought.

When we get to the café, the first ten minutes, our conversation centers on the menu and food. We are both ravenous. I can’t even remember the last time I had a full meal. When the cheeseburgers, smothered with Swiss cheese and sautéed mushrooms and a side of crispy fries arrive, we both devour it and quickly our energy is re-charged.

“This is really good.” Logan says between bites.

“It is…I knew I was hungry, but now that I have food in my stomach I didn’t realize just how hungry I was.” I laugh while I pop another fry in my mouth.

“Are you still planning on doing homework tonight?” Logan’s eyes are on mine.

“Unfortunately I have to.”

“We had a long day and we didn’t get any sleep last night so I thought maybe you could come over and take a nap with me.” Logan says, trying to stifle his smile.

“I’m surprised you didn’t say you wanted to show me something…that’s what got me there in the first place.” I laugh. “But why do I think your idea of a nap wouldn’t involve much sleep?”

“Well, you’ll just have to come over and see.” His eyes gleam.

“I’m sorry…as much as I would much rather spend my night with you…I need to get my work done.”

“I know you do.” He says, wistfully.

For fear Logan may change my mind and I might not get any work done tonight, I change the subject.

“Do you think they’ll be able to re-open the store tomorrow?” I ask.

“We got most of it cleaned up…definitely.” He says.

“I still can’t believe that happened. Well, thankfully there was no serious damage done and not a lot was stolen. I guess it could have been worse.” I shrug.

“Sam would be out for blood if someone stole the boards or damaged them. That’s for sure.”

“I thought the same thing…” I think that’s the second shared thought. “You know…it’s kind of weird they found cigarette ashes.”

He wipes his mouth with a napkin and places it on his plate. “Yeah. I thought that was interesting.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I ask, my eyes staring back at him.

“I don’t know, Emilia. Sebastian was the first person that popped in my head because he smokes all the time. I hope he wouldn’t be that stupid.”

“Have you seen him or spoken to him since you got your own place?”

He shakes his head. “No. And, honestly, I’d like to keep it that way. I take full responsibility for that night. I’m not going to sit here and point fingers, but at the same time I know he didn’t help the situation.”

I swallow as I feel the blood drain from my face. I haven’t said anything about seeing Sebastian that night in
Soho.

“Emilia, what’s wrong?” He asks softly.

“I saw him.” I murmur.

“When?” He asks, worried.

“Remember that night at
Soho
…” I start to explain.

He blinks at me. “The night I walked you home…with Bryn and her boyfriend. Yes, I remember.”

“Do you remember when you first saw me?”

Then it hits him. “When you came flying down the stairs and I caught you. I knew something was wrong but you insisted you were fine…you said something about always fainting or falling, which is true so I didn’t push it. You had just seen him? Upstairs?”

“Yes.” I whisper.

“Why didn’t you say something?” He asks, puzzled.

“I knew you would have gone after him. I didn’t want you to…I don’t know…I was worried you’d get hurt.”

“You were worried I’d get hurt?” He asks, incredulously.

“Well, I didn’t want you to do anything rash.” I shrug.

He lets out an exasperated breath. “God, Emilia. I wish you had told me. Did he hurt you?”

“No.” I say, but I feel my eyes fall.

“Please, Emilia. I promise I won’t do anything, but if he threatened you in any way…I need to know.”

“Not really. He just scared me. We were alone and he was really drunk.” I shrug.

“What do you mean not really?” He glances at me anxiously. “You need to tell me, baby.”

“I’m trying to remember…I tend to block unpleasant situations out of my head…to the point where I don’t really remember exactly. I don’t know if that makes any sense, but that’s what I do. I’ve actually gotten quite good at it…helps me forget.”

Logan leans forward, taking my hand in his. “It makes total sense, but can you remember anything he said to you?”