Page 86 of Building Courage
However, there were mirrors, beautiful paintings, original watercolors, and oils that had been ripped from the walls and torn to pieces. Those things were irreplaceable.
She knew all too well how Martin felt because she’d experienced the shock, the loss, and the grief of having her possessions, her keepsakes crushed, and her hard work destroyed.
Tucker draped an arm around her shoulders, and she leaned her head against his shoulder.
“I’m going to give the place a once-over with the vacuum just to make sure we caught everything,” Jess said as she went to the hall closet.
“I’m going to order pizza for everyone. It’s the least I can do with all the help you’ve given me,” Martin said. “Any preferences for toppings?”
“I like it all,” Jess said.
“Ditto,” Brynn said.
“No Anchovies,” Oliver said.
“I agree with that,” Tucker said.
“I have fixings for a salad. I’ll make one to go with the pizza and some sweet tea,” Brynn said.
“I can help with that,” Tucker said.
“Thanks for volunteering,” she said.
They wandered over to her apartment, and she unlocked the door. Striding inside, she caught an unfamiliar scent and paused. “Do you smell something?”
“Yeah, it smells like—oil. Motor oil,” Tucker said.
“I haven’t had any motor oil in my apartment.”
Tucker checked the bottoms of his boots and shook his head.
What else could happen today? She looked around the room, searching for anything out of place. The camera she’d used to take pictures of Martin’s apartment was sitting on the end of the cabinet, close to the edge, instead of next to her computer where she’d left it. She’d never leave it on the edge of anything. It was her right arm. “My camera’s been moved.”
“Stay here, and let me do a walk-through.”
“No, I’m coming with you. I’ll be able to tell if anything has been moved or taken.”
“Stay behind me,” Tucker said.
She followed him across the living room and down the hall. He paused to open the hall closet/laundry door, then peered into the small bathroom. Her bedroom looked untouched as did her bathroom. She opened the cabinets where she stored her cameras, lights, and tripods. Everything seemed fine. As they returned to the living room, she eyed the cabinets beneath the television and moved to check each one. Everything seemed in place. Except… She opened the small file box in which she stored her SD cards. It was empty. “They’ve stolen my SD cards.”
She rushed to open her laptop, and for a moment, prickles of fear raced up the back of her neck. Her fingers flew as she typed in her password and went online. Seeing the folders there, untouched in her online storage program, relief flooded her, and she released the breath she was holding. If anyone had been in the apartment, they’d have taken her computer or tried to delete the photo files or access her online storage to delete them. Everything she owned was password protected, but it only took one savvy tech guy to destroy years of work—as Chad had done.
She shuddered at the thought.
“Everything okay?” Tucker asked.
“Yes. I just got a little spooked.”
“While you have your computer up, can you show me the photos you took to the cops?” he asked.
She clicked a folder on her desktop and opened it. Then, she clicked on the first photo.
Tucker braced a hand on her desk and leaned over to study the photo. “Jesus, Brynn! How did you get this image out of some random shots?”
“I ran it through a program that increases the pixels. It’s similar to the software that hospitals use to clarify scans.”
“This is amazing. The cops are going to be all over that boat.”