us what you know.”
“I left the house around 11:40 and came home about 1:20. When I tried to push open the door from the garage into the house, it seemed stuck, as if something was blocking it on the other side. I pushed a little harder and felt something move and the door give way. I went inside and everything had been pulled from cabinets and drawers and strewn across the floor and the countertops. I left and called you.”
“All right, stay here. Rutgers and I will take a look.”
Ellen watched as the two officers drew their guns and jogged over to the front door and tried to open it, then quickly made their way around the side of the house and disappeared. She waited for what seemed an eternity and then saw the officers reappear and walk toward her.
“There’s no one in the house now,” Backus said. “Whoever was in there broke a back window to get in, and then left by the French doors.”
Ellen lifted her eyebrows. “Does the rest of the house look anything like the kitchen?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so, ma’am. We’ll need you to come back in with us and see if you can determine if anything valuable’s missing.”
13
E llen Jones stood in the living room with Investigator Backus and Officer Rutgers, disheartened by the destruction. The oil painting of Seaport Beach that once hung over the couch now lay slashed on the floor amidst broken lamps, piles of books, and couch cushions and throw pillows that had been cut open and the stuffing pulled out.
She put her hand on the back of her neck and rubbed, vaguely aware of officers bagging evidence and snapping pictures.
Backus rubbed his nose and resumed his annoying tapping the clipboard with his pencil. “Anyone who’d tear your house apart this way either has a grudge or is after something.”
“After what? We’re not hiding anything. Nothing valuable was taken.”
“Is it possible someone could have a grudge against you or your husband?”
“I can’t imagine. We get along with—” Ellen’s heart sank. “Oh, wait … the intruder.”
“Excuse me?”
“My husband surprised an intruder at his Tallahassee apartment yesterday morning. The man ran off before Guy got a look at him.”
Backus rolled his eyes. “And you’re just now telling me?”
“I’m sorry. My mind’s in a fog.” Ellen put her hands to her temples. “Nothing was missing and the police there think it was a thief working the neighborhood.”
“So your husband filed a report?”
Ellen nodded.
“Okay, I’ll get a copy of it. Maybe there’s a connection. Anyone else who might have a beef with either of you?”
“I don’t think so. Well, maybe. Guy just won a big toxic chemical case for Brinkmont Labs.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Some aspiring young litigator convinced the residents of Marble River to sue Brinkmont for allegedly polluting the river and making them sick. Guy presented overwhelming evidence that Brinkmont was operating within EPA guidelines. The jury agreed with him.”
“I’ll bet that ticked off a few folks.”
“Yes, I suppose it did. But enough to do this?”
Backus’s bushy eyebrows joined in the middle. “Well, somebody tore into this place with a vengeance.”
Guy Jones sat in his office reading a contract for a new client, aware that Kinsey seemed distant and brooding. He noticed she was on the phone and then heard her voice on the intercom.
“Guy, Ellen’s on line one.”
“Thanks.” He picked up the receiver and pushed the blinking light. “Hi, honey. What’s up?”
“The house was broken into. It’s a mess. Actually, worse than a mess. Everything that could be cut up was —cushions, mattresses, pillows. Things pulled out of cupboards, lamps smashed …”
“Are you all right?”
Ellen sniffled. “Hardly. But I’m not hurt. I wasn’t home when it happened.”
“When did it happen? I thought you were in for the day.”
“I planned to be, but I ran into Mina when I was out running this morning
“I left the house around 11:40 and came home about 1:20. When I tried to push open the door from the garage into the house, it seemed stuck, as if something was blocking it on the other side. I pushed a little harder and felt something move and the door give way. I went inside and everything had been pulled from cabinets and drawers and strewn across the floor and the countertops. I left and called you.”
“All right, stay here. Rutgers and I will take a look.”
Ellen watched as the two officers drew their guns and jogged over to the front door and tried to open it, then quickly made their way around the side of the house and disappeared. She waited for what seemed an eternity and then saw the officers reappear and walk toward her.
“There’s no one in the house now,” Backus said. “Whoever was in there broke a back window to get in, and then left by the French doors.”
Ellen lifted her eyebrows. “Does the rest of the house look anything like the kitchen?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so, ma’am. We’ll need you to come back in with us and see if you can determine if anything valuable’s missing.”
13
E llen Jones stood in the living room with Investigator Backus and Officer Rutgers, disheartened by the destruction. The oil painting of Seaport Beach that once hung over the couch now lay slashed on the floor amidst broken lamps, piles of books, and couch cushions and throw pillows that had been cut open and the stuffing pulled out.
She put her hand on the back of her neck and rubbed, vaguely aware of officers bagging evidence and snapping pictures.
Backus rubbed his nose and resumed his annoying tapping the clipboard with his pencil. “Anyone who’d tear your house apart this way either has a grudge or is after something.”
“After what? We’re not hiding anything. Nothing valuable was taken.”
“Is it possible someone could have a grudge against you or your husband?”
“I can’t imagine. We get along with—” Ellen’s heart sank. “Oh, wait … the intruder.”
“Excuse me?”
“My husband surprised an intruder at his Tallahassee apartment yesterday morning. The man ran off before Guy got a look at him.”
Backus rolled his eyes. “And you’re just now telling me?”
“I’m sorry. My mind’s in a fog.” Ellen put her hands to her temples. “Nothing was missing and the police there think it was a thief working the neighborhood.”
“So your husband filed a report?”
Ellen nodded.
“Okay, I’ll get a copy of it. Maybe there’s a connection. Anyone else who might have a beef with either of you?”
“I don’t think so. Well, maybe. Guy just won a big toxic chemical case for Brinkmont Labs.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Some aspiring young litigator convinced the residents of Marble River to sue Brinkmont for allegedly polluting the river and making them sick. Guy presented overwhelming evidence that Brinkmont was operating within EPA guidelines. The jury agreed with him.”
“I’ll bet that ticked off a few folks.”
“Yes, I suppose it did. But enough to do this?”
Backus’s bushy eyebrows joined in the middle. “Well, somebody tore into this place with a vengeance.”
Guy Jones sat in his office reading a contract for a new client, aware that Kinsey seemed distant and brooding. He noticed she was on the phone and then heard her voice on the intercom.
“Guy, Ellen’s on line one.”
“Thanks.” He picked up the receiver and pushed the blinking light. “Hi, honey. What’s up?”
“The house was broken into. It’s a mess. Actually, worse than a mess. Everything that could be cut up was —cushions, mattresses, pillows. Things pulled out of cupboards, lamps smashed …”
“Are you all right?”
Ellen sniffled. “Hardly. But I’m not hurt. I wasn’t home when it happened.”
“When did it happen? I thought you were in for the day.”
“I planned to be, but I ran into Mina when I was out running this morning
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