Drawn in Blood (Burbank and Parker 2)

Sloane complied. “Ground rules,” she began. “There’s information I can share with you and information I can’t. So let’s do this my way. No twenty questions.”

“A tall order,” Rosalyn responded drily. “But, fine. I’ll do my best.”

“Good.” Sloane pointed at the door. “I want you to reenact for me exactly what happened the night of the burglary. Start right there, at the front door. Pretend you just got home. Walk in. Look around. Close your eyes when you get to the part where the thieves pulled the sack over your head. That way, you can play it out as you remember it.”

Rosalyn blinked in astonishment. “What good will it do for me to—” She bit off the rest of her question, remembering her promise to Sloane. “I’ve gone over this story a thousand times—with the police, the FBI, and you. I don’t see the point in doing it again.”

“

Humor me.”

An exaggerated sigh. “It couldn’t have been more than a minute from when I walked in and when that ape grabbed me. After that, the bag was over my head, the rag was in my mouth, and the rest happened in darkness.”

“Fine. I still want you to take it from the beginning.”

“Are you saying you want me to stagger blindly around the apartment in the direction I think they dragged me?”

“No. I want you to visualize it in your mind’s eye, step by step, and relive it aloud.”

Rosalyn shot her daughter an exasperated look, but refrained from firing any more questions. “I had my keys, but I didn’t need them. As I told you and the authorities, the apartment door was ajar. I assumed your father forgot to shut it behind him when he got home. I called out to him as I walked in. That’s when the first intruder grabbed me from behind, gagged me, and yanked the sack over my head. I suppose I should be grateful. If I’d seen his face, I’d probably be dead right now. No such luck yesterday.”

“That’s why you’ve got FBI protection. No one’s getting near you,” Sloane said fervently. “Now, I want you to freeze-frame those first few seconds when you stepped through the front door, but before you were assaulted. You had a direct view of the entire living room. What was going on? Was the place wrecked? Was there activity? Movement? Noise?”

A long, intent pause. “No. Nothing. The room looked normal.”

“You also had a good view of the breakfast nook and the kitchen. Were the silverware drawers dumped? Were there pieces scattered around or were they already missing?”

“Again, no. Everything looked to be in place. I’m not stupid enough to stay in an apartment that’s obviously just been burglarized.”

“I agree. One last thing—what about your diamond stud? Dad found it on the floor near the door when he got home.”

Rosalyn arched a brow. “When have you ever known me to overlook a diamond? That pair of studs were two carats each. Your father gave them to me for our twenty-fifth anniversary. If one of them had been lying on the floor, I would have seen it.”

“Good point.” Sloane made the necessary mental note. “Okay, now go on. This time from after you were grabbed. Shut your eyes.”

Rosalyn complied. “I fought that son of a bitch tooth and nail. He wasn’t too tall, but he was strong. He yelled out something in Chinese. Clearly, he was shouting for help from his accomplices, because one of them came running. The two of them dragged me into your father’s office and tied me up in a chair—”

“Stop,” Sloane interrupted. “Were both of the other burglars in Dad’s office when the first one called for help?”

Another pause. “I’d say yes. The footsteps of the one who ran out to help subdue me definitely came from that direction.”

“And the other guy?”

“He had to already be in there when I was brought in. No one came into the office after that. But just before they knocked me out, I heard all three of them talking and arguing. They were all definitely in the room with me.”

“So while you were conscious, no one left to grab the stuff they ripped off? No sound of unplugging components from the entertainment center? No grunting as they hauled off the TV? No clanking of silverware?”

“No. Just a lot of banging and thudding that I now realize were probably the drawers and file cabinets in the office being dumped. I don’t know when they ransacked the rest of the place. It had to be after that second blow to my head, when I was unconscious.”

“They were certainly efficient,” Sloane murmured thoughtfully. “Was there any hesitation in their motions or questions in their voices? Like they were trying to figure out where things were?”

“Not that I recall. I wasn’t exactly coherent. I assume they found what they wanted, robbed us blind, and took off.” Rosalyn opened her eyes and waved her hand in noncomprehension. “What are you getting at?”

“Hopefully, answers.”

“What kind of answers?”

“The kind I don’t think we’re going to like.”