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Everything that’s happened recently is connected. There’s no way it isn’t. A chill runs down my spine while I think about how long they may have been watching her.
“We need to let the police and property management people know about this,” I tell her.
She nods in agreement, and we leave her apartment and get into the car. We pull into the property management office at about four-thirty, and the office is about to close. Looks of annoyance pass between the two people working as we walk in so close to the end of the day.
“Who’s in charge here?” I ask.
The woman nods toward an older man sitting at the desk.
“Who the fuck do we file a complaint with? We found a camera installed in her apartment, and we want to know why the lock at the apartment entrance is broken. This apartment complex is a joke.”
I’m fucking pissed, and my face and voice show it. The two workers glance back and forth between each other, neither of them daring to speak.
“Maintenance was supposed to fix that already,” the man says. “Excuse me. I need to go call my boss.”
After about five minutes of waiting, he comes out from the back of the office.
“The building manager is coming, and we’ll need you to come back tomorrow morning and fill out some paperwork. He doesn’t want to take the chance of messing with evidence before the police look everything over.”
“Okay, that’s fine. I plan on calling the police as soon as we walk out the door,” Alana says, still shaken up by what happened.
“That would be smart. We don’t want anyone disturbing the crime scene. If the camera was live, whoever installed it may have seen when you found it,” the female office worker says.
“I didn’t even think about that,” she answers, her face going white as a sheet.
“What are the two of you going to do about keeping your tenants safe? How did someone get into a building undetected and install a camera? Where is your security?” I ask.
They both stare blankly at me, and I can tell they don’t give a shit. They’re here to collect a paycheck, and my frustration levels soar to new heights.
In a huff, I pull Alana out the front door of the property management office, and she calls the police as we walk back to her apartment. As briefly as possible, she explains the situation to the police and tells them the name of the officers that were here last night after the break-in. She sounds frustrated, then hangs up.
“They can’t get anyone over here for an hour, at least.”
“Well, I guess we’ll sit right here and wait for them. If we leave, whoever installed that camera could sneak back in and grab it. The fucking staff doesn’t give a shit.”
She looks at me with eyes full of fear, but also determination.
“You’re right. I guess we just wait?” she asks.
We sit on the sidewalk outside her apartment building and wait for the police to arrive. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her in close to me.
36
Chapter Thirty Six
Alana
Nothing like a stalker to dampen sexual tension.
The cops pull in front of my apartment for the second time in twenty-four hours, and Andreas and I stand up to greet them. Different officers from the night before exit the car and approach us. One is a tall, stern-looking man with a serious face, the other is a petite woman with long brown hair pulled back in a no-nonsense ponytail.
“Ma’am,” the officer nods at me. “What’s going on?”
My shoulders sag, and my face pinches with worry. “Recently, my apartment door has been open when I get home from work. At first, I thought there was a problem with the lock. But yesterday, I came in to find my underwear missing. Someone’s been coming and going while I’m out. Today, my friend hired movers to come get my belongings. They moved a bookshelf, and there was a camera behind it. Someone was watching me,” I say.
The officer says, “Where is it now?”
“Still in the apartment,” I say.
