Page 91 of Property of Bob

I frowned at him. “Do you want me to tell you or not?”

“Keep going.”

I blew out a breath. “Someone got into the RV again.”

His entire body went still.

“This time I knew I hadn’t left it unlocked.”

“What’d they take?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“What’d they do?”

“They searched it.”

“What do you mean, searched it?”

“I mean they tossed everything. Cabinets open. Clothes pulled out. Mattress moved. Stuff dumped on the floor. It looked like someone was trying to find something.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

“You sure?”

I frowned. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Did you take anything from the campground?”

“No.”

“Files?”

“No.”

“Paperwork?”

“No.”

“Computer?”

“I don’t have their computer, Ashland,” I drawled.

“Flash drive?”

“No.”

“Anything?”

“I took my purse, my clothes, my coffee maker, and the rest of the crap I already owned.”

He watched me for a long second.

“I didn’t steal anything,” I insisted.

“Didn’t say you did.”