“It adds value to the apartment!” she protested.
“And I got plenty of tenants ready to move in here.”
“Who?” she asked. “No one wants to live in this dump.”
“Plus your rent is due.” He left, brushing past Derrick with a glare.
“Who was that?” Derrick asked.
“The property manager.”
“Hmm, nice chap.” He stared down at her door. “Tara, did you give a key to anyone?”
“Yes, Mrs. Santos. She lives two floors down.” She pulled it out of her pocket. “I just grabbed it off her before. Why?”
“Whoever broke in didn’t actually break in.” He waved her over and pointed at the door. “There was no forced entry.”
“They had a key?” But how? “Oh God. The mugger.”
“What?” Derrick asked.
“I was mugged last night. They took my handbag. It had my other key in it, that’s why I had to get this one back from Mrs. Santos. But how did they know where I lived?”
“Driver’s license?”
“I don’t drive. I must have had something in my bag. Maybe a bill with my address on it.” It was possible. Her handbag was a mess.
Derrick looked grim. “I don’t like this at all.”
She nodded. “This is really bizarre.” She didn’t understand what was going on.
“Well, whatever is happening, you certainly can’t stay here.”
“I’ve nowhere else to go.”
“You’re coming home with me.” He held up a hand before she could speak. “I have a guest house you can stay in; we wouldn’t even have to see each other.”
“Thanks for the offer, Derrick. But I have, uhh, another friend I can stay with. For tonight, at least.”
Derrick watched her through narrowed eyes. “That better be true.”
She raised her eyebrows innocently. “Of course.” Tomorrow night, well, she’d worry about that later.
Besides, surely whoever had done this wouldn’t be back.
***
Four hours later and Tara was exhausted. The police had come and gone. Now she was left staring at the mess they’d left, wondering what she was going to do next.
>
The whole time the police had been there, her property manager, Ted, had stood in the doorway glaring at her.
“Damn it,” Derrick put his cell away, ending the call he’d been on for the last ten minutes. “I’m sorry, love. I’ve got to go.”
“That’s okay. You’ve done more than enough.”
He shook his head. “I’m not leaving you here alone. I don’t like this. At all.”