We’re not done with you, a voice screeched in my memory. You’ll pay. In the way that hurts you the most.
I looked at the woman beside me. Hurting Shiloh was how to hurt me the most.
Fuck… Oh fuck, no…
“How did this happen?” Shiloh said, looking and sounding so damn lost. “I have security. Cameras and a company. They’re supposed to call me…”
“I grabbed your phone,” Letitia said, rummaging in her bag. “Thought you might need it.”
She handed it to Shiloh, who stared, disbelieving, at the screen. “I muted it. I took a few selfies behind the register and of the crowd…and then I went to work.”
Over her shoulder I saw a bunch of missed call notifications from the security monitoring company she’d hired.
“I wouldn’t blame yourself for that,” Tran said. “Typical smash-and-grab. They’re usually long gone before we show up. Can I take a look at your security footage?”
Shiloh nodded absently as she pulled up the security camera app, and we gathered around to watch.
The lights were out and the shop shadowy, but enough street light came in to see a skinny, hooded figure in a ski mask rampage through the store, a crowbar in one hand, a spray can in the other. I felt sick.
Frankie Dowd. Though it may as well have been me under that fucking ski mask.
I did this. I brought this to her, just like I fucking knew I would.
Shiloh made a choking noise and shoved the phone at Tran, then stepped away to touch the jagged edge of a display case.
“Any clue?”
“That’s Frankie Dowd,” I said.
The officers glanced at each other. “As in, Mitch Dowd’s son?”
“That’s what I said.”
Murray made notes on his notepad and Tran frowned.
“What is it?”
“Mitch Dowd was released from prison a few days ago,” Tran said.
“The fuck…? I thought he was serving a year.”
“He was sentenced to a year,” Tran said. “He appealed and the judge commuted his sentence to six months of house arrest.”
“You think his kid did this?” Murray asked. He looked hesitant to follow up. “You can’t ID a face on that video.”
“I don’t need to see that fucker’s face to know it’s him.”
The officers conferred and Tran said, “We’ll head over and ask him a few questions.”
“And then arrest his ass.”
“We need probable cause,” Murray said. “The video alone isn’t enough to make a positive ID.”
Tran held up his hand when I started to protest. “Take her home, okay?”
I sucked in a breath and nodded.
Tran took Shiloh’s information and the cops left.
Rudy and Letitia were huddled together, watching Shiloh move through the wreckage of her shop.
“Get her home,” I said. “I’ll clean up here.”
Shiloh shook her head. “No, I can’t… I can’t leave…”
I moved to her and took hold of her shoulders. “Shiloh, look at me.”
She turned her brown eyes up to mine, not really seeing me, and my heart ached. She was still in shock, numb.
“Go home, baby,” I said. “Rest. I’ll clean this up.”
“You can’t clean this up,” she said, frowning as if I were crazy. “It’s too much. Too much…”
“I’m going to get started and then I’ll be there, okay?”
She nodded mutely and let Letitia take her out the back.
Rudy stood in front of me. “Thank you, son. For being so good to her.”
He patted my shoulder and left, and I wanted to fucking scream.
This is my fault. Mine.
Rage flooded me, burning through my veins like fire. I grabbed a broom from the back and gripped it as if it were Frankie Dowd’s fucking throat. I concentrated on the work, cleaning up the shattered glass and smashed displays as best I could, extracting jewelry from the mess.
I couldn’t do anything about the spray paint, but I wanted to. I wanted to paint over everything so that when Shiloh saw her shop again, she wouldn’t feel so undone.
It was nearly two in the morning and I’d done all I could for the night. I loaded all of Shiloh’s inventory into the Buick’s trunk and back seat, then jerry-rigged a way to lock the door with a chain and padlock.
I drove to her and Bibi’s house. Rudy had taken Shiloh’s mom and Letitia back to their hotel. Bertie and Bibi were still awake, sitting on the couch, drinking tea and talking in hushed voices.
“Oh, honey,” Bibi said, tears coming. “Rudy told us everything. Is it as bad as that?”
“Yeah, it’s bad. Shiloh’s asleep?”
Bertie nodded. “The poor child. First Marie, bless it all, and now this?”
“I’m going to check on Shiloh,” I said.
“Thank you,” said Bibi. “Thank you, sweet boy, for all that you’ve done…”
All that I’ve done…
I strode down the hallway to Shiloh’s room. The rainbow lights were on—dim—but enough to see immediately that her bed was empty.
Okay. She’s in the bathroom. Or outside in the shed, working to try to make up for tonight, somehow.
The bathroom was empty.
“Ronan…?” Bertie called as I went through the patio door to the backyard. The shed was empty. I checked the garage. Empty.
I came back inside, forcing myself to sound calm so as not to freak the women out.
“Did she lie down in your room, Bibi?” I asked carefully.
She frowned. “I don’t think so. Bertie?”
Bertie hurried to Bibi’s room and peeked her head in. “She’s not there,” she said, her hands twisting now.
I whipped out my phone and called Shiloh’s number. Her cellphone came to life on the dining room table, right next to her purse.
Shit.
“Oh no,” Bibi breathed. “Oh, no. Where…? Where could she have gone? When?”
“I’m calling the police,” Bertie said. “I know they’ll say it has to be twenty-four hours, but after all that’s happened tonight…special circumstances…”
Bertie got up to rummage for her phone in her bag. Bibi looked small and helpless on the couch.
“I’ll find her,” I said, striding out the front door.
“Ronan…”
“I’ll find her, Bibi,” I said. “I’ll bring her back.”
If it’s the last fucking thing I ever do in this world.
I drove the Buick back to Rare Earth for the third time that night. It was dark, my makeshift lock untouched.
“Fuck, Shiloh,” I said, pacing the dark parking lot, thinking. “Please, baby…”
I got back behind the wheel and pushed the Buick as fast as the heavy engine could take to my place. Maybe Shiloh needed me at home, and I wasn’t there, so she went looking…
My place was dark, quiet in the early hours. The parking lot empty but for tenants’ cars. So was the back-storage area.
Fucking stupid. Why would she come here? You did this to her. She doesn’t want you. She won’t want you ever again…