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“We’ll also need your fingerprints,” Detective Sandoval added.
Her heart raced. “Why?”
Detective Littledeer frowned at his partner, but he turned to her. “Simply as a process of elimination. Also, bring your daughter with you so she can be fingerprinted. You can tell her that it is just a precaution. Schools now like to have the kids fingerprinted.”
He didn’t say why, but Lilly knew the sad reality of missing children. One of the women who worked with her at the church and the community garden had a child who’d gone missing.
“I’ll bring Penny by tomorrow and we both can have our prints taken.”
“What’s going on here?”
They looked up and saw a man standing in the doorway. In his early fifties, he stood with a military preciseness and his hair was cut in a burr.
“And you are?” Detective Littledeer asked.
“Mark Rodgers, the owner and manager of these apartments.” He glanced around the room. “What happened here?”
After informing the owner who they were and why they were there, Detective Littledeer asked, “Did anyone ask to see this apartment in recent days?”
“No. No one has been by to ask anything. Since Mr. Burkstrom’s lease was up at the end of the month, I wanted this place cleaned out so I could paint and recarpet. He bought a new condo off of Rio Grande Boulevard.”
“When was the last time you were in this apartment?” Detective Sandoval asked.
“I came by when this lady here got her husband’s clothes. I told her then when the lease was up.” The owner looked around at the mess. “This place wasn’t this way the last time I was here.”
“Did you see someone leave here in the last half hour?” Detective Littledeer asked.
“No. I just got back from a trip into Santa Fe. When I saw all the cop cars parked out front, I came up to see what was wrong.” He continued to look around. “You say it was a break-in?”
They nodded.
“I’ll keep an eye out. I don’t want my tenants put in any danger.” The owner shook his head. “When am I going to be able to rent this place?”
Both detectives glared at the man. He backed up and raised his hand. “Hey, I’ll give the lady until the end of the month.” He disappeared out the door.
The detectives turned to her. “How did you get in here?” Detective Sandoval asked.
“My daughter has a key. When I got Peter’s things from the cops, his car keys and his house key weren’t among them. His wallet was also missing,” said Lilly.
Detective Littledeer’s eyes darkened. “I’ll go back over the incident report and see if I can locate those keys.”
“Detectives, we’re done here,” one of the evidence techs informed them.
“I can now go through Pete’s things?” asked Lilly.
“You can. If you find anything you think would shed light on what happened, call.” Detective Littledeer gave her his business card.
“Thanks,” she said as the detectives filed out the door behind the techs.
Once alone in the apartment, Lilly scanned the mess. “Oh, Lord, what was Peter into?”
After spending a few hours trying to restore order in Peter’s apartment, Lilly drove to her little house a block from San Mateo Street Community Church. Having a job so close to home was a blessing because Penny could walk to the church after school and help her with the garden. She was the secretary, manager and community gardener for their parish. The garden had started with the pastor wanting to reach out to the community. They’d only had a few of the church ladies help with the planting that first year. Since then it had taken off. This season they’d tripled the amount they harvested from the garden.
She hit the remote for the garage door and waited for the door to open. She would be sure to gather some flowers from her garden to thank Allison for keeping Penny overnight. Allison would probably spoil both the girls with hot-fudge sundaes and let them stay up until nine-thirty. Penny needed spoiling. It had been a rough week for both of them. Once school started next week, hopefully life could return to some semblance of normal. Lilly had hoped the time Penny spent with her would reassure her daughter that she wouldn’t leave, too.
Lilly had called her parents in Florida, letting them know what had happened. Her dad hadn’t been too sympathetic. Her father never forgave Peter for abandoning his daughter.
Gathering her purse, she got out of the car. She’d boxed Peter’s shoes, clothes and dishes. She could give some of the things to several needy families in the church. Opening the door that led into the kitchen, she put her purse on the table and flipped on the light.
She gasped as she looked at the mess in her kitchen. Someone had been in here, searching for…what?
Grabbing her purse, she looked for Jonathan Littledeer’s business card. She found it and dialed the number.
“Littledeer.”
“Detective, this is Lilly Burkstrom. I just walked into my house. It looks like my husband’s apartment wasn’t the only place ransacked.”
“Your house was broken into?”
“Yes.”
A crash from the bedroom made her gasp.
“Lilly.”
“I heard something.”
“Get out. Go next door and call 911.”
She turned and ran out the garage.
TWO
T he instant he hung up with Lilly Burkstrom, Jonathan Littledeer called his partner and told him about the incident.
“I can be there in fifteen minutes,” Dave told him.
“No.” Jon had been reluctant to contact his partner since Dave was celebrating his twins’ tenth birthday. “Today is your daughters’ birthday. Do not leave that party. If there’s anything significant, I’ll let you know.”
Dave didn’t reply. They both knew the reason why Jon wasn’t celebrating with the Sandoval family. Jon had lost both of his daughters to a rare genetic disorder—Niemann-Pick disease type C. Both Jon and his wife, Roberta, carried the recessive gene. No one had known the children had the disease until the oldest, Wendy, was two and a half. Rose had been born just a few months before Wendy got sick. She had run a high temperature and had her first seizure. When she had a second seizure after recovering from the fever, the doctors were stumped. It took a while before they were able to determine what was happening. Wendy’s body eventually wasted away and she died two days before her fourth birthday. A month after they buried Wendy, Rose had her first seizure. She died much quicker. She suffered for only thirteen months. The day they buried his sweet Rose, Jon’s wife went home after the funeral and took too many sleeping pills. Jon buried his wife one week after his youngest daughter was laid to rest.
The next six months were a blur. He was drunk most of the time. The first time he shown up at work drunk, his captain suspended him. Captain Morse blistered the paint off the wall with his words and told him to clean up his act or resign.
One night after a particularly bad binge, Jon showed up at Dave’s house, railing. Most of the details of what happened were hazy, but he remembered crying and blaming God for what had happened. How Dave calmed him down, he didn’t know, but when Jon surfaced the next morning from his liquor-induced sleep, Caren, one of the twins, was standing over him. She cupped his cheek and softly pronounced that Jesus could heal his hurt.
Those sweet words rolled around in his head for weeks, until Jon went with Dave to church. Caren had been right. Jon gave his heart to Christ and started down the road to healing. Some things, such as the girls’ birthday, he had to skip, but his life was so much better. More than once, God had brought people into his life that he could comfort in the same way he’d been comforted.
The night he’d told Lilly Burkstrom of her ex-husband’s murder stood out in his mind. She’d collapsed in a chair and, although the man was her ex, Jon had seen her honest grief. But what had nearly brought him to his knees was when Penny came into the room and learned of her father’s death.
What he’d seen in Lilly’s eyes as she comforted her daughter had reached into his heart and touched him. He couldn’t figure out if it was her strength in comforting her daughter or if it was the pain in her eyes when she’d met his gaze. There was an understanding there, a shared sorrow. Pain. He didn’t know what to do with this understanding, but he found himself thinking of Lilly at odd times. Something had sparked between them, making him jumpy. He knew the Lord could use him to comfort others, but heaven knew that he didn’t want another relationship. He would be the forever bachelor.
Pulling up to Lilly Burkstrom’s house, he saw her sitting on a bench by the front walk. He parked behind the patrol car and got out.
She stood, brushing off her pants. “The patrolman just got here. He’s looking through the house.”
Stepping to her side, he asked, “So you don’t know how someone got into the house?”
“No. The front door was locked when I got home.”
He nodded. “I’ll go inside and see what’s going on.”
“Thanks.”
Jon moved into the house and surveyed the living room. It wasn’t in as much disarray as Peter Burkstrom’s apartment had been in, but the drawers of the coffee table were open and the cushions on the couch were out of alignment. He moved through the dining area and into the kitchen. Drawers hung open and cabinet doors stood ajar.
He heard someone behind him. He turned and saw the uniformed officer, Miguel Aguilar. “What are you doing here, Littledeer? I haven’t seen any bodies.”
“The lady’s ex-husband was murdered last week. She called me before she dialed 911. Earlier, the ex’s apartment was broken into and trashed. This place is in better shape, but…How’s the rest of the house?”
“It’s been tossed.”
“Any indication where the perpetrator got in?”
“The sliding glass door in the master bedroom was jimmied. It has one of those cheap locks.”
“You call for the evidence team?”
“Yeah. They’re on the way.”
He moved through the rest of the house. Whoever had broken in had been more careful than they’d been at Peter’s apartment. It sure seemed as if someone was after something—which led him to believe Lilly’s assertion that maybe her ex-husband’s death wasn’t the random event they thought it might be.
As he turned to leave the master bedroom, he noticed the framed picture on the dresser. It had been knocked on its side. He picked up the frame. Penny, who was maybe twelve or thirteen months old at the time, sat on her mother’s lap. They were both smiling. It was the kind of picture that any husband or grandparent would view with joy and pride.
He remembered the picture of Roberta, Wendy and Rose on his mantel at home. It had been taken right before they knew the killing truth. Wendy had been two and a half; Rose two months. It was a picture he hadn’t been able to look at since he’d buried Roberta.
He carefully replaced the picture and walked back outside. Lilly and an unknown woman quietly talked. When Lilly saw him, she ushered the woman toward him.
“This is my neighbor, Sandra Tillman. She thought she saw someone in the house,” Lilly explained.
“What did you see?” Jon asked.
The woman rubbed her arms. “When I went out to bring in Lucky, my dog, I saw a light flash inside Lilly’s house. I stopped and watched. The light never appeared again, so I shrugged it off as my imagination, but seeing the patrol car, I thought I’d tell Lilly what I saw.”
“Did you see a car near the house? Or anyone leave?” he asked.
The woman shook her head. “Sorry.” The slump of her shoulders gave away her disappointment at not being able to provide more information.
“Thank you for your help. I wish more people would step up to the plate. What you’ve told me is that the man, assuming it is a man and he worked alone, might have parked his car on the next street over. I’ll be sure to question the neighbors on that street.”
The woman’s spine straightened. “I’ll keep my eyes open.” She turned and walked back to her house.
“That was nice of you,” Lilly whispered to him.
“No, it wasn’t. It was the truth. I know where to look for the suspect.”
She turned, her brow raised.
“You doubt me? You think I wasn’t sincere?”
“I guess I hadn’t thought—”
“Littledeer, I’m done,” one of the evidence guys interrupted. “I’ll be sure to check for what you asked.” He moved down the sidewalk to his car.
“What did you ask him to do?” Lilly asked Jon.
“To compare the prints he lifted here and at your ex-husband’s apartment. And remember, we’ll need your and Penny’s prints.”
“You think it was the same person?” Fear tinged her voice.
He didn’t want to panic her, but she needed to know. “I don’t know, but I don’t want to overlook anything.” She didn’t need to dwell on the fear. “C’mon. Let’s go inside and fix your sliding glass door.”
“You don’t need—”
“That’s what cops do, help make the public safe. Now, if you know how to secure that door, I’ll leave it for you.”
“You win. I have to beg my friend to come over and fix things.” Shaking her head, she confided, “Zoe is one handy lady. She’s working at the local home improvement store while she puts herself through college.”
“I’m impressed.”
They walked through the living room and into her bedroom. The lock on the sliding glass door was a simple lever, which opened when turned to the right.
“It’s not broken,” Lilly said.
“True, but it’s easily opened. A slim blade here—” he pointed above the lock and motioned downward “—and the intruder’s inside.” He looked around the room, then walked out, thinking he could find what he needed in the kitchen. In the pantry, he found a broom. He brought it back into the bedroom. Holding it up, he asked, “You willing to sacrifice this for your safety?”
“Yes.”
He snapped the broom handle over his knee and placed the piece without the bristles in the door’s track. “That will do until you decide what other locking mechanism you want for the door. Zoe will know what other safety measures are out there. Oh, one of the officers secured the sliding glass doors in the living room, but you’ll need to buy new locks for those doors, too.”
“Thank you.” Turning, she glanced around the room. “At least it’s not as bad as Pete’s.” After a moment, she dashed out of the room.
He followed her into Penny’s room. It had been ransacked, too.
“Who did this? And why?” She picked up a stuffed doll and buried her face in the doll’s chest. She’d held it together through the mess at her ex-husband’s apartment and the mess here.
He moved to her side. “Lilly.”
She turned into his arms and the dam broke. She wrapped one arm around his waist and the other clutched the doll between them. His arms closed around her shoulders. The emotions tumbling around his chest he didn’t want to name, but he knew that feelings he’d thought long dead had come back to life.
