“Should I call the cops? Where are you?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.
“Home. I just got back from my mom’s house. She fucking set me up with Emma.”
Rhett laughs. “Did it work?”
“Yes, asswipe, it worked.”
“I fucking love your mom. So, what’s going on?”
“Porch light was out, and something triggered the video doorbell about thirty minutes ago, but I don’t see anything so far.”
As I say the words, I tap the app on my phone that turns on my indoor house lights and that’s when I see it. The front living room window has been smashed and so has the porch light.
“Fuck,” I grumble.
“What?”
“I have to call the cops. Someone broke my window.”
“Shit. Do you think they are inside?” he asks.
“I don’t know.”
“Go wait in your car and call them,” he says. “And then call me back.”
“K.” I hang up with Rhett and call the detective from the other night.
“Benson,” he answers.
“Hey, this is Grady Daniels.”
“Oh, hey. You remember anything else from the other night?”
“Uh, no, but I just got home, and my front porch light and window are smashed.”
“Shit. OK. I’m calling it in now. They’ll send a patrol car over. I’ll be there shortly. Don’t go inside and don’t touch anything.”
“I won’t.” I hang up and call Rhett back.
“This sucks!” I huff.
“I know, it really does. But at least you’re safe.”
“Whatever. I just don’t get it.”
“Dude, it’s some psycho. There’s nothing to get.”
“No, I mean, why all the craziness out of nowhere?”
“I don’t know. I’m texting Calvin right now. I haven’t heard when our meeting is with the security firm,” Rhett says.
“Not fucking soon enough,” I grumble as I see a police car pull up along the curb. “Police are here. I’ll talk to you later.”
“OK. If you want to come stay here tonight, you have a key,” Rhett adds.
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
I get out of my car where I’ve been sitting as the officers exit theirs. One looks to be about ten years older than me and one looks close to my age.
“Grady Daniels?” the older one says.
“Yes, sir.”
“Detective Benson will be here shortly. He wanted us to secure the crime scene.”
I motion to my front porch.
“Officer Davis will take your statement while I check the house out. Have you been inside yet?”
I shake my head and hand him my house key. He nods and walks up to the front steps.
The younger officer pulls out a notepad and looks me over. “Tell me what happened tonight.”
I begin the short explanation of my evening after arriving home from my mom’s house. But as I finish the story, the other officer walks out of my door holding a brick. His gloved hand covers it, but as he steps closer, I can see a sticky note, a yellow one. I shudder because I know it’s going to have a Shakespearean quote written on it.
“He that dies pays all debts,” he mutters a little confused. He glances up at me as though I will have all the answers.
“It’s a line from The Tempest,” a voice says from behind me. I turn, my gaze meeting that of Detective Benson.
“You find anything else?” he asks.
The officer shakes his head.
“Go write it up as vandalism, so Mr. Daniels can file a claim with his insurance company.”
The officer nods, grumbling something under his breath as he walks back to the car. “Bag that for evidence,” he says to the officer who just finished taking my statement. The officer goes to get the brick and note, and the detective turns to me.
“Still no idea who would do this?”
I glare at him. “If I had an idea, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Just checking. Pop stars have been known to do some crazy shit for attention.”
“I’m not a pop star, so I guess that solves that issue.”
We stare each other down for a moment until we are interrupted by another voice.
My manager.
“Hey, is everything OK? Rhett texted me and I was nearby,” Calvin says.
I roll my eyes. “Just a brick through my window,” I reply, my voice laced with sarcasm.
“Shit. Glad I have a call into the security firm.”
“You’re hiring security?” Detective Benson asks.
“Detective Benson, our band manager, Calvin Kratz.”
Calvin nods to the detective. “So, any leads yet? The record label is starting to get concerned. They are a hundred percent behind us hiring a full-time security agency in addition to the security they already have for you.”
I groan. “Starting?”
Calvin gives me a sharp look that says, be nice, and don’t bite the hand that feeds you. I have been unhappy with the record label as of late and Calvin knows this, but he also doesn’t want us rocking the boat in the middle of our contract. We have the option to leave them after our next album. Let’s just say, I’m counting the days.
“We don’t,” Detective Benson answers Calvin.
The next thirty minutes are comprised of Benson asking me more questions. Calvin acting all defensive. And the two officers filling out an insane amount of paperwork, which probably means they hate me now.
By the time everything is done, I’m exhausted and all I want to do is crawl into my own bed. I head to my garage and find some old pieces of wood that were left there from some projects. I take my hammer and cover the broken window up the best I can. I replace the bulb in the patio light, which thankfully still works.
I crawl into my bed, hoping tomorrow will be better. Although not everything was bad about this day, just its ending.
Emma
The sun streaming through my window wakes me. I smile as I remember last night. How can everything be so different in just one day?
I throw the covers off of me and head to the kitchen to make coffee. As the coffee brews, I flip through my messages.
Kate: How was dinner?
I decide to let her know that Grady and I are back on.
Me: Grady and I sort of got set up by Blythe last night.
Kate: Seriously?
Me: Yep.
Kate: Is that good or bad?
Me: Good, very good.
Kate: Yay! I want to hear all about it! Call me later.
Me: Sounds good.
I pour cream into my coffee mug and read my next text message.
Unknown Caller: Light and lust are deadly enemies.
What in the actual fuck? My mind briefly goes to the note I found in the hall the other day. Is someone in the apartment complex trying to befriend me with weird Shakespeare quotes?
I delete the message.
Grady: Call me when you wake up.
I smile and press call. I’d texted him when I got home, and he’d written back “goodnight.” I had hoped to hear more from him last night, but I had passed out soon after getting home and finishing an assignment. He must have sent this message a few hours after I went to bed.
“Hello?” a very groggy Grady answers.
“Oops, did I wake you?”