The image of Healy’s corpse suddenly flashed in her mind. What if her own life was now in danger?
“Here we go,” Baby said, returning to the living room carrying a tray laden with a small teapot, a cup and saucer, and a plate of butter cookies. Baby always set a mean tray. “According to the box, the tea is ‘Cozy Chamomile,’” she said, “so maybe it will help a little.”
“Thanks, Baby. Just being here is helping me. Though it’s going to be a while before I feel anything close to cozy again.”
“Tell me what they stole,” Baby said. While she settled into an armchair close by, Kit took a long sip of tea and then returned the gold-rimmed porcelain cup to the saucer.
“They made off with my speakers, most of my costume jewelry, some silver stuff, and, of course, my laptop. It doesn’t appear, at least, that they took anything of yours, but you’ll have to check when you get there.”
“I spoke with Dara already and, like me, she didn’t have anything of real value lying around. I just feel so bad for you. You’re insured, right?”
“Yes, with an annoyingly high deductible.” Kit blew out a long breath. “But to be honest, the stolen stuff isn’t at the top of my worry list right now.”
“What do you mean?” Baby asked. She’d had her cocktail glass halfway to her mouth as she’d posed the question and now it was paused in midair, like a freeze-framed image from a video.
“I don’t believe it was really a routine burglary tonight.”
“But the cops—you said they thought it was.”
Kit explained about the searched drawer and missing flash drive, as well as her theory that the ransacked living room might be a ruse to distract her and the police from the real intent behind the break-in. Just talking about it all made her anxiety level spike.
Baby frowned, her expression a mix of worry and confusion. “I remember you asking Dara to put those pictures on a flash drive so you could send them to that client of yours, Stan what’s-his-next-name, the one with the bad hair plugs. But why would anyone else want photos of his apartment?”
“They don’t,” Kit said, shaking her head. “I think the person may have been searching for confidential information about me, and probably our clients as well. If he’d done his homework, he would know interior designers keep client credit card numbers on file, and he probably wanted access to those. By making the burglary seem like it was the work of a druggie looking for stuff to pawn, he buys time to hack into my computer, extract the info, and use it.”
“Dear God. Do we need to alert our clients?”
“I’ve deleted their files from my Dropbox account, so no one would be able to access them from my laptop now, but it may be too late. I think we should let clients know what happened and tell them to keep an eye out.”
“Let me do that tomorrow. You’ve got enough on your plate at the moment. And I can smooth any ruffled feathers.”
“Thanks so much.” Kit looked off, thinking, gnawing on the tip of her finger.
“What?”
“I just hope this doesn’t cast too much of a pall over the business.”
“These things happen. It’s New York City after all.”
Kit nodded tentatively.
“There’s something you’re not saying, Kit. What is it?”
“I’m not so sure this is just about living in New York City. Remember what you asked earlier? About the man from Florida? I’m worried this actually does have something to do with him.”
Baby pulled her arms across her chest. She was doing her best not to seem rattled, but Kit knew that this update had to be disturbing.
“Did you find anything specific pointing to him?” she asked.
“No, but the one thing I know for sure about him is that he’s been using someone else’s identity, so identity theft could easily be his main line of work. And then, of course, there’s the timing. This guy sends me to Healy’s apartment. A few days later Healy turns up dead. And then a few days after that my apartment is ransacked. It just screams that there’s a connection. I’m even wondering if he was in my apartment once before, the day I noticed that my pillows had been moved. He might have been casing the place.”
“You’re going to talk to the police about this, right?”
“Yes, for sure. I’ve already told them what happened in Florida. But even with