“No.”
“Where are you parked?”
“About four blocks away.”
“That’s too far. Don’t hang up. I’ll call for a patrol car. Wait for them, then go to your car and lock yourself in. Let the officers look around. Understand?”
“I can take care of calling the police.”
“For chrissake, Amanda, just do as I say … ”
She heard the sound of the phone receiver being dropped. Heard the low murmur of his voice as he spoke to the dispatcher on his cell phone. Heard the continued rattling of the back door. Standing in a deeply shadowed space between two kilns, she took a long, slow breath to calm her heart rate. Then she sidled toward the front door. She unlocked it, pulled her keys out of her purse, ready to run to her car when he got back on the phone. If he ever got back on the phone.
“Amanda?”
Finally. “What took you so long? You have me really scared,” she whispered.
“A couple patrol cars are on the way. They won’t run sirens but at least one of them will have lights flashing so you can identify them. I’ll stay on the phone until you see them.”
A crash, the sound of metal being smashed, came from the back of the studio. “I can’t wait for them. The back door was just broken open.”
“Get the hell out of there and run to your car.”
She flung open the door and sprinted into the dark as fast as she could. She punched the remote for her car but in her panic, accidently pushed the emergency button. The lights on her Highlander flashed and the horn blew, raising her anxiety.
However, the officer in the patrol car who pulled up alongside her SUV a few seconds later told her how smart she was to identify her vehicle that way. Amanda didn’t bother to correct the officer’s impression of her intelligence. When she was safely inside the patrol car she got back on the phone with Sam.
“The patrol car’s here, Sam. I’m with Officer … ”
“Jefferson,” the man said. “Officer Lopez is on his way. Is that Detective Richardson?” He put his hand out for the phone.
Amanda gave it to him. There wasn’t much to hear from his end of the conversation other than the occasional, “uh-huh.” When the conversation was finished, Jefferson handed the phone back to her. “How about we go see what’s going on and lock up your studio? Lopez should be there. After we get that taken care of, one of us will follow you home. Detective Richardson will meet us there.”
Back in the studio, they found a dented door and a broken lock. The office had been quickly searched, if the papers and boxes all over the floor and the open drawers and cabinets were any indication. Nothing in the studio itself was disturbed and nothing appeared to be missing.
With the officers’ help, she jury-rigged the door shut. They barricaded the back with the desk and a worktable before locking up the front door. As requested, Officer Jefferson followed Amanda home where Sam was waiting.
After he talked to the officer, Sam joined Amanda inside. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’ve had better days.” She motioned to him to take off his jacket.
He hesitated before removing it and handing it to her saying, “Yeah, me, too.” He looked weary, all of his thirty-six years evident in the lines in his face, which were deeper than usual. “Jefferson says nothing was missing. That true?”