Someone had picked up her parents’ things. They’d touched the photograph as well. It was turned slightly, so that walking in the door, she couldn’t see their faces. Sandlin’s picture, the one with the two of them, brother and sister riding side by side on their favorite horses, the sun setting behind them, had been turned toward her parents’ photograph, rather than facing out toward the door.
Staying in the doorway, she peered at the table where the little mementos were kept. Her brother’s key chain wasn’t there. Her heart nearly stopped and then began to pound. She wanted to run over to the table and look all around in case it had dropped to the floor, but the doors to the bathroom and bedroom were closed. She never closed the bedroom door. She wasn’t about to set foot in the apartment alone. She backed out and shut the door carefully and extra quietly.
Running down the stairs and across the alley toward the deli, she nearly ran right into Giovanni. He caught her by the shoulders to steady her.
“What’s wrong?” The question was clipped, almost growled. He sounded dangerous, and for once she was glad. His gaze swept over her, taking in everything, including the bouquet of flowers she still clutched in her arms. “What is it? You’re very pale.”
“Someone was in my apartment. They touched my things. I didn’t go into the bathroom or bedroom.” She didn’t realize she was shivering until he wrapped his arms around her and held her close to his body. He felt strong and safe. “The doors were closed and I thought maybe it would be better to get someone to come with me.”
“I’m going to call the police and a couple of my brothers,” Giovanni said. “My brothers will get here faster than the cops. We’ll go in and make certain no one’s inside.”
She shook her head. “Wait for the police. If someone’s in there, they could have a weapon.”
He set her aside, texted in that extremely fast way he had and then started up the stairs. She followed. He turned back to her, frowning at her.
“Go into the deli where I know you’re safe.”
“I can’t do that. There isn’t any point in arguing with me. I’ll just do what I think is right. If you’re going in, I’m going with you.”
“Where did you get those flowers?”
She glanced down at the bouquet, once again surprised she was holding it. “They were in front of my door.”
“Whoever went inside left them for you,” he surmised. “At least the probability is high.”
She dropped them immediately onto the ground, the same weird tingle of fear slithering down her spine. “That’s horrible. Why would someone leave me obviously hand-picked flowers and then sneak into my apartment and touch my things?”
“I don’t know, honey, but we’ll find out.”
Giovanni glanced around the alley, up toward the rooftop of the opposite building and then took her hand and pulled her to him. Taviano and Ricco strode out from around the corner of the alley, both wearing the signature pin-striped suit all the Ferraros seemed to wear.
“Sasha, you met Taviano, and this is my brother Ricco,” Giovanni said. “I was just heading upstairs to see what’s going on in her apartment. Taviano is going to stay with you. Ricco will go with me. He’s tough, he can defend me if someone jumps out at me.” He bent his head to hers to brush a kiss along her temple. Deliberately, he took her hand and placed it in Taviano’s. “Don’t let her out of your sight. I’m putting her in your care.”
There was something about the formality of the way Giovanni worded it that had her gaze jumping to his face. He was looking at his brother. Something she missed passed between them, and Taviano nodded.
Giovanni caught her chin in hard fingers. “This time, honey, you stay right here. I can’t be dividing my attention, looking out for you and sweeping your apartment.” There was steel in his voice. Sasha was independent, a woman who went her own way and made her own decisions, but she wasn’t about to defy that voice. More, she wasn’t going to put him in danger through her own recklessness.
Giovanni took the lead going up the stairs. “Someone’s watching from the roof. Text Stefano and let him know. I caught the glint of binoculars. The idiot isn’t that good at hiding himself. He’s watching us. I’m betting it’s the same man who was in her apartment.” He kept moving up the stairs. His brother was fast on his phone, even faster than Giovanni, and he could text as he hurried up to the door.
Giovanni bent to examine the lock without touching anything. “There are scratch marks here. He used a pick. I’m going to have to get her a better lock, Ricco, and dead bolts inside, if she’s going to stay here.”
Pulling on gloves, he opened the door and stepped inside. Her apartment smelled like her—fresh cinnamon candy-covered apples. He loved the way she smelled, and entering her home, knowing it held that same scent he was beginning to be obsessed with, gave him a rush of pleasure in spite of the circumstances. He signaled to his brother to stand to one side of the closed door. He opened it carefully.
Her bathroom was small and very neat. There was no way for anyone to hide in the open space. Her shower curtain was transparent, so even that wouldn’t have been a hiding place for an intruder. He looked around, taking in everything she had on the marble sink. Makeup, although she used it sparingly, he knew. A jar of colored bath salts. An electric toothbrush and water flosser. The woman took care of her teeth and it showed. They were straight and white. She had a dazzling smile.
A lipstick lay next to a bottle of perfume. Strange, the perfume was in a beautiful bottle, but it wasn’t that cinnamon candy-covered apple he knew was her signature scent; it was a high-end brand he recognized, but the floral scent wouldn’t suit Sasha. He couldn’t imagine her wearing it.
Her towels were jet-black, which surprised him. He expected her to have chosen more of a pastel color. The two towels were hung with obsessive neatness, which was too bad. He liked neat, but he wasn’t always careful about where he flung his clothes, so the fact that her towels were hung exactly symmetrically was probably a bad thing. Again, he was careful not to touch anything. He wanted Sasha to tell him if anything had been moved or taken.
The bedroom was next and he opened that door cautiously, keeping out of the line of fire just in case the intruder was still inside and had a gun. The bed was in his line of sight, the comforter a pale mauve. There were girlie pillows on it, up near the head of the bed. In the exact center was a large heart made of roses, the same type of roses that were now on the ground outside in the alley. Inside the heart, laid out precisely in the center, were a sheer thong panty and bra. They were fire-engine red and nothing more than cord and lace, beautiful, sexy and perfect for his woman. He couldn’t imagine that she had placed them there, but he was certain the lingerie already belonged to her.
He looked at his brother. “What the fuck is that?”
One look around the small room told him an intruder wasn’t hiding there, not even in the closet. The double doors to the long walk-in were open, revealing a meager amount of clothing. Mostly jeans hung neatly alongside two dresses and several tops.
“There’s a note.” Ricco removed it from where it lay between the lace bra and panties.
Wear these for me tomorrow.
The words were typed out on a single sheet of paper. Giovanni cursed under his breath. “This isn’t good. Someone’s fixated on her.”