hidden from view by a torn shoji screen, and the bed had suffered the same fate as the sofa. The pillows and mattress spilled stuffing and coils—they’d been completely disemboweled.
A trunk at the end of the bed that Natalie had stored clothing in lay upside down, garments tossed on top of it and strewn around the floor.
Her small bookshelves had been decimated, many of the titles ripped in half. Natalie’s ideals were revealed in her choices: Shakespeare, Le Mort d’Arthur , Romeo and Juliet , The Three Musketeers , Don Quixote , Tess of the d’Urbervilles , Jane Eyre , The Scarlet Pimpernel , The Last of the Mohicans , To Kill a Mockingbird , A Tale of Two Cities , and several hardcover romance novels.
In a final insult, her nasty visitors had ripped apart a once-gorgeous quilt that hung on the wall in a simple wood frame.
“Natalie?” McDougal said. “Are you okay?”
She jumped, startled, moving her hand from her mouth to her heart. “Oh, my God,” she said. “Oh, my God.”
“Someone was looking for that necklace,” he said grimly. “And they were not happy that they didn’t find it.” He put an arm around her shoulders and steered her to the corridor. “Let me make sure that they’re not still here.”
She looked horrified.
He’d left the Glock in the car, damn it. But chances were they’d gone. McDougal strode down the hallway that led to the apartment’s minuscule bathroom and threw aside the shower curtain. Nothing.
He took a brief but thorough look around, threw open Natalie’s old oak armoire. Nobody in there. He saw no other place where anyone could hide. There were no cabinets big enough, and he seriously doubted he’d find anyone in the refrigerator.
“Okay,” he called. “Everything’s clear.”
She came back into the room, hugging her arms around her body. She stared at the destruction as if she didn’t know where to start and where to end. Her eyes filled as she looked at the remnants of the big quilt in the frame.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, feeling the uselessness of the words.
“It took me years to finish that,” she said. “I’d been working on it since I was a little girl. Ever since I saw Faith Ringgold’s quilts in a museum exhibition.”
Eric stood silent.
“Why?” she asked nobody in particular. “Why would they do this? Destroy everything I own.”
“Looking for a hiding place, I’d say. They want that necklace.”
She let go of herself, raised her arms, palms up. Shook her head back and forth. Then, wordlessly, she dropped her hands again.
“Listen, Natalie. You can’t stay here.”
She knit her brows and turned to look at him.
“They might come back. When they know you’re here.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
“Come on. Let’s get some of your things together. You can stay the night with me at the Waldorf until we get this sorted out.”
“I can’t impose on you like that—”
“You’re coming back to the Waldorf with me,” he said firmly. “No argument. Now, do you want to call the police?”
She hesitated. “No. I’ve already caused enough problems for Luc.”
“Do you want to call someone else? Your parents?”
“No. My parents would just worry.”
“All right. Let’s get your things together, then.”
She kept staring around the room. “I should clean up.”
“Not right now.” He made a mental note to have Sheila send someone over to do the dirty work and salvage anything that could be salvaged. It was the least he could do.
Since Natalie made no move to pack anything, he grabbed a few things for her. A dress, some tights, underwear, socks, a couple of sweaters and some jeans. Comfortable-looking sneakers. Some toiletries out of the bathroom. He threw them all on top of the fabric scraps and sewing supplies in the quilted bag she’d had with her in the car.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he said, putting his arm around her again. “Let’s go.”
There was a fat ticket on his rental car’s
A trunk at the end of the bed that Natalie had stored clothing in lay upside down, garments tossed on top of it and strewn around the floor.
Her small bookshelves had been decimated, many of the titles ripped in half. Natalie’s ideals were revealed in her choices: Shakespeare, Le Mort d’Arthur , Romeo and Juliet , The Three Musketeers , Don Quixote , Tess of the d’Urbervilles , Jane Eyre , The Scarlet Pimpernel , The Last of the Mohicans , To Kill a Mockingbird , A Tale of Two Cities , and several hardcover romance novels.
In a final insult, her nasty visitors had ripped apart a once-gorgeous quilt that hung on the wall in a simple wood frame.
“Natalie?” McDougal said. “Are you okay?”
She jumped, startled, moving her hand from her mouth to her heart. “Oh, my God,” she said. “Oh, my God.”
“Someone was looking for that necklace,” he said grimly. “And they were not happy that they didn’t find it.” He put an arm around her shoulders and steered her to the corridor. “Let me make sure that they’re not still here.”
She looked horrified.
He’d left the Glock in the car, damn it. But chances were they’d gone. McDougal strode down the hallway that led to the apartment’s minuscule bathroom and threw aside the shower curtain. Nothing.
He took a brief but thorough look around, threw open Natalie’s old oak armoire. Nobody in there. He saw no other place where anyone could hide. There were no cabinets big enough, and he seriously doubted he’d find anyone in the refrigerator.
“Okay,” he called. “Everything’s clear.”
She came back into the room, hugging her arms around her body. She stared at the destruction as if she didn’t know where to start and where to end. Her eyes filled as she looked at the remnants of the big quilt in the frame.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, feeling the uselessness of the words.
“It took me years to finish that,” she said. “I’d been working on it since I was a little girl. Ever since I saw Faith Ringgold’s quilts in a museum exhibition.”
Eric stood silent.
“Why?” she asked nobody in particular. “Why would they do this? Destroy everything I own.”
“Looking for a hiding place, I’d say. They want that necklace.”
She let go of herself, raised her arms, palms up. Shook her head back and forth. Then, wordlessly, she dropped her hands again.
“Listen, Natalie. You can’t stay here.”
She knit her brows and turned to look at him.
“They might come back. When they know you’re here.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
“Come on. Let’s get some of your things together. You can stay the night with me at the Waldorf until we get this sorted out.”
“I can’t impose on you like that—”
“You’re coming back to the Waldorf with me,” he said firmly. “No argument. Now, do you want to call the police?”
She hesitated. “No. I’ve already caused enough problems for Luc.”
“Do you want to call someone else? Your parents?”
“No. My parents would just worry.”
“All right. Let’s get your things together, then.”
She kept staring around the room. “I should clean up.”
“Not right now.” He made a mental note to have Sheila send someone over to do the dirty work and salvage anything that could be salvaged. It was the least he could do.
Since Natalie made no move to pack anything, he grabbed a few things for her. A dress, some tights, underwear, socks, a couple of sweaters and some jeans. Comfortable-looking sneakers. Some toiletries out of the bathroom. He threw them all on top of the fabric scraps and sewing supplies in the quilted bag she’d had with her in the car.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he said, putting his arm around her again. “Let’s go.”
There was a fat ticket on his rental car’s
Similar Books
