Instead of a verbal reply, a thud made Kimani jump. . For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to go in. If it wasn’t Marissa, maybe it was their landlords? But they had never come unannounced, and they were supposed to be on a Caribbean cruise.
“Marissa!” she tried again.
This time her heart stalled completely when a man dressed in black, a ski mask over his face, appeared in the doorway.
“Well, if it isn’t the reporter,” he sneered.
She thought of screaming, but the man grabbed her arm, stalling her intended response.
Just then, the sound of a loud, persistent cough came from across the street.
The intruder’s eyes widened behind his ski mask. Releasing her, he bolted past Kimani. He had something tucked beneath his arm as he ran around three houses, turned the block, and was out of sight.
The man across the street continued to have a coughing fit.
Though still rattled, Kimani ran over to the man. “You want me to get you a glass of water?”
He waved his hand and shook his head. His coughing subsided. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
He then went on his way. She didn’t recognize him as someone who lived on their block, but there was a handful of apartments in the neighborhood, so she couldn’t know everyone.
He had seemed to come out of nowhere. She was sure she hadn’t seen anyone for blocks, but she was immensely grateful that he happened to be walking by.
Pulling out her cellphone, she called the police. She wasn’t going to go inside on the chance that the intruder had a buddy, even though that prospect hadn’t crossed her mind when she’d offered the coughing man water.
She called Marissa next.
“Yeah, I’m still at work,” her roommate replied. “The bar and grill closes at eleven. Why?”
“Someone broke into our place. The police are on their way.”
“Oh my God! I want to be there. It’s slow enough at work, I’m sure I can leave early.”
“Okay, see you soon.”
Still feeling like she was being watched—maybe the intruder was lurking about—Kimani didn’t feel safe waiting on the streets by herself and decided to knock on a neighbor’s door. Mrs. Sanchez and her elderly mother went to bed early, so it took a while for her to come to the door. She let Kimani stay in her house while she waited for the police to arrive.
“Dios mio,” Mrs. Sanchez murmured with a brow furrowed in worry. She had a bolt and a chain lock on her door. Kimani wondered if she would be installing extra protection on her own door soon. “And I thought this was a relatively safe neighborhood. I did consider moving out of the city before, but Mama’s not interested in the suburbs. Says only white-washed Latinos live in the suburbs.”
Kimani managed to smile and even consume a pupusa that Mrs. Sanchez insisted on warming up for her.
After two police officers arrived and went inside and deemed the premises safe, Kimani was allowed to enter her home.
The place had been turned upside down. Every drawer was open, their contents strewn all over the floor. In her bedroom, her clothes covered her bed and floor. Even the clothes hanging in her closet had been ripped out.
“So what was taken?” an Officer Nguyen asked.
“My laptop,” she replied, seeing the bare spot on her desk. That was what the intruder had been carrying under his arm.
“What else?”
“That’s it, I think.”
“What about jewelry?”
Kimani looked at the earrings and necklaces hanging out of her jewelry box. “I don’t own any jewelry worth stealing, but it looks like it’s all here.”
The other officer walked up. “The TV looks untouched, along with the wifi router and Blu-ray disc player. You must have interrupted the thief before he could grab much.”