For The Love Of Sir (Doms of Decadence 3)

“What makes you think they were looking for something?” she asked.

Derrick grimaced, looking uncomfortable. “No offense, love, but there wasn’t a lot here that was worth stealing.”

He was right.

“Can you tell if anything was taken?” Derrick asked.

She glanced around her. Everything appeared to be here. Just smashed or broken.

“I don’t think so. I don’t understand what they could have been after, though.” Tara rubbed her forehead. This was just what she needed. “Why would anyone wreck my apartment but not take anything?”

“You pissed anyone off lately?” Derrick asked, concern on his face.

“Besides my boss, no,” she half-joked.

“Your boss?”

“He just fired me. I was joking. Tim wouldn’t do this. How did you know anyway?”

“When the security company couldn’t get hold of you they called me. I’m going to ring the police.”

“No,” she said quickly. He looked at her in surprise. “What’s the point? Nothing was taken.”

Derrick raised an eyebrow. “Someone broke into your place and wrecked it. Even if nothing was taken that’s still against the law. What if you’d been home?”

She shivered. “Okay, okay. I’ll call them, though. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

“I’ll call them and I’ll stay here with you. Unless you want me to call someone?”

She shook her head and he stepped into the corridor to make the call.

Tara thought about calling Alex, but he was at work. Even though he’d been there for her last night, she didn’t really want to disturb him during the day. The last thing she wanted was to be a burden on him. She didn’t want him getting sick of her.

And while she could call Ava or Tilly she knew Tilly would be at work and she didn’t want Ava traveling down to this part of town. Roarke would not be happy with her.

“Ms. James?”

Tara looked over at the doorway to find her bald property manager glaring at her.

“What is the hell is going on?”

She’d kind of thought that was obvious, but Ted wasn’t the brightest man she’d ever met.

“My apartment was broken into.”

“This place is a mess,” he said. “Your neighbors have been complaining about all the noise.”

“That was the alarm.”

“This is a breach of your contract.”

“How?” she asked in a disbelieving voice.

“Noise, destruction of property, mess.”

“I’ve been broken into,” she repeated slowly. “This isn’t my fault.”

He pointed at the alarm. “You didn’t get permission for that—”