Diamond Fire (Hidden Legacy, #3.5)(19)

“They broke in last night,” Valentina said. “Three of them in dark hoodies.”

Leon nodded at the first window on our right, with the windowsill stained with grey fingerprint powder. “Is that how they came in?”

“Yes,” Carlos said. “We open the windows a lot to air the kitchen out.”

“Did the alarm not go off?” I asked.

Both Valentina and Carlos looked like they wanted to fall through the floor.

“The wireless sensor on that window keeps going off randomly,” Carlos said.

“Why didn’t you notify us that the sensor was malfunctioning?” I asked.

“It didn’t seem like a big deal. It’s a very small window. We usually bypass it,” Valentina said. “Otherwise it goes off in the middle of the night.”

“It’s kids.” Carlos growled, his face turning dark red. “Probably tried the window, figured out we forgot to lock it, and crawled in. I bet it’s that idiot Hudson. Him and his sidekick are always in the park across the street. Up to no good. They sit in the park, drink beer all day, and look for trouble to get into. When I was their age, I had a job. I had responsibilities. I—”

I had to cut him off before it turned into a full-blown lecture about kids these days. “What did they take?”

Valentina grimaced. “Champagne. They took a case of it. Probably all they could carry. It’s heavy. And they smashed the rest.”

“Two hundred and fifty bottles, two hundred and twenty dollars per bottle,” Carlos spat.

Fifty thousand dollars’ worth of champagne. All gone.

“Damn. Sucks for you,” Leon offered helpfully.

Valentina looked green.

“Do you have the security footage?” I asked.

A minute later, I watched three figures in dark hoodies with bandannas over their faces spray the security cameras with whipped cream, which they found in the fridge.

“We don’t usually use canned whipped cream,” Valentina said. “The client had specifically requested it for her bachelorette party. We didn’t ask.”

The sounds of champagne being smashed came from the screen. I glanced at Leon. He nodded.

I rewound the recording. “Look. They get through the window and they go straight to the fridge. They knew that the window would be unlocked and bypassed, and they knew right where the whipped cream was.”

“What are you implying?” Carlos asked. His eyes bulged. “I know everyone who works here. I vouch for everyone who works here.”

Humans dealt with risk by pretending it didn’t exist. Even though thousands of people died every year in car accidents, we still got into our cars and drove every day. We built illusions of safety around ourselves and believed them or we would go insane.

A home was one of those vital illusions. It was our shelter, the place where we let our guard down. Nothing bad was supposed to happen to you in your house. When our warehouse was attacked by mercenaries, it felt like my world was cracked open. It made me feel weak and helpless.

Valentina and Carlos were feeling helpless now. The financial loss was crushing, but the violation of their kitchen was likely worse. This was a small business. The employees were probably more like family than hired help. They spent a lot of time together in this kitchen, making delicious food and beautiful cakes. Someone had smashed all those happy memories to pieces. The idea that one their own might have done it was too much.

“Are there any bottles left?” Leon asked.

Valentina reached under the counter and pulled a heavy bottle out. Leon grabbed the bottle by the neck and smashed it against the wall. The bottle held.

“Hey!” Carlos yelled.

I held up my hand. “We’ll reimburse you.”

It took Leon two more tries before the bottle finally broke.

Panting a little, he held the bottle out to me. “Two hundred, like this?”

I turned to Valentina. “If you’re just kids breaking in to steal some wine, you’d grab a few bottles and get out. This took a lot of time and effort. The question is why.”

“Yes, why? Why would anybody do this?” Valentina asked.

“Two possible reasons,” I said. “First, they were covering up the sound of what they were doing, and second, they counted on you concentrating on the loss of the wine. Our contract with you specified that you were to call us immediately in case of any complications. Why didn’t you call us?”

“We called the police,” Carlos said.

“You don’t understand,” Valentina said, her face plum red now. “We came in and there were piles of glass on the floor. All this wine, the smell . . .”

And she had wanted to clean it up as soon as possible, to erase the desecration of their beautiful kitchen.

“It’s misdirection.” Leon nodded at the broken glass on the floor. “Smashed bottles, broken glass, expensive wine on the floor, everything smells, everything is stained and sticky. You see this and if nothing else appears disturbed, you just concentrate on cleaning things up.”

I looked at Valentina and Carlos, and my insides tried to squeeze themselves into a tight painful ball. There were things I had to say now, harsh and unkind things, and I had to say them to two people who were already desperate and traumatized. I felt mean and shitty. But it was my job. I promised I would do it.