Leaving his neighbor standing on the front porch, he pushed open the door and had to move the pile of trash backward to get inside. Kellus had only made it as far in as the entryway, but he could already see the place was a wreck. Trash lay everywhere, his ceiling fan hung lopsided, two blades completely gone. The sofa cushions had been ripped open, and stuffing lay everywhere. His kitchen table had been flipped upside down, only one chair in view. With his heart in his throat, he took off immediately for the backdoor, wrenching it open. Thank God his shop looked secure, but they’d extended the party outside. Beer cans and cigarette butts littered the back porch and yard, trash scattered everywhere.
“I don’t know how long he was here, but I called the police about midnight when I couldn’t get you on the phone,” Mrs. Johnson said from behind him as he marched toward his studio.
When he reached the overhead door, he bent to check the lock. Luckily, it wasn’t broken or tampered with. He pulled his keys from his pocket and opened that lock, lifting the large metal door. The alarm sounded, and he quickly entered the code. He walked the length of the studio. Nothing looked out of place. Thankfully, John hadn’t used whatever technology he had to breach this area.
Kellus left the studio, leaving the door up as he went back to the house.
“Did the police come?” he asked as he passed by Mrs. Johnson.
“Yes, several cars. I told them John was wanted, and I didn’t think you were home because you would never let this happen.”
“Did they get him?” Kellus asked, looking back over his shoulder.
“I don’t know. I hope they did, but I stayed in my house,” she answered. “I was afraid for him to know I called. He’s out of control.”
In that, Kellus completely agreed. He headed back inside and went to his bedroom. The anger boiling on the inside broke free at what he discovered next. His bed lay askew, the frame broken, the sheets rumpled, and he could still smell sex in the air. His stomach roiled. How much more of this could he take? The mirror to his dresser had been cracked. They’d pulled the ceiling fan from the ceiling, and it lay discarded on the floor in the center of the room. All his dresser drawers were either half extended or pulled out completely, the contents missing or dumped from most. He turned toward the open closet door. They’d completely picked through his shoes and clothes. Brushing through his hair, he carefully stepped on his things to retrieve a piece of paper on top of his dresser. As he got closer, he recognized John’s handwriting.
Where are you, Kelly? Sorry I missed you. Your phone’s going straight to voicemail. Keeping secrets now?
J
Frustration had him wadding the paper in his fist and throwing it across the room. His levels of pissed off were skyrocketing. He’d never been this mad at John before in his life. What the fuck was wrong with John?
Kellus reached for his phone only to remember the damn thing was dead. He tossed the cell on the dresser, then pivoted on his heels to leave the room as he called out to his neighbor. “Mrs. Johnson, are you still here?”
“Yes, I am.”
“My phone’s dead. Can I use yours to call the police? I need to see what happened last night.” He wove his way through all the crap discarded in the hall, heading for the living room. He had to make sure to file an official police report this time. He was done with all this crazy bullshit; John would just have to deal with another strike against him. This was too much.
~?~
Moving day for the corporate offices of Layne Construction had the newly built mega-complex in a state of utter chaos. Arik turned into the circular drive, saw the packed lines of cars and delivery trucks, and immediately shifted into reverse. He absolutely didn’t want to get caged in, stuck in the drive for who knew how long with everything going on today. Since his maneuver had effectively snarled the little bit of organization the security guys had achieved on the circular drive, Arik stopped his backward movement and turned his wheel sharply to the right, pulling his little sports car on the freshly laid grass. With all eyes watching his bold move, he lifted a hand to everyone and gave a giant, hopefully reassuring, grin. His dad would have a fit over that move, and he had no doubt the landscaping department would report this by the end of the day.
When the curious glares didn’t stop, Arik ignored everyone as he walked straight to the front doors while palming his cell. It was noon, and he had texted Kellus at least a half-dozen times this morning, yet hadn’t heard a single word back. Since Kellus popped into his head about every three seconds, he had also picked up the landline to call a couple three times, and every call went straight to voicemail. His gut worried even as his head knew it could be something as simple as Kellus forgetting to turn on his phone after plugging it into the charger.