“I don’t want to be by myself,” I admitted hoarsely. I didn’t want to be anywhere in the house alone.

He nodded and then crossed the room, opening the closet door. I could hear hangers banging around. Then he turned to me. “Do you have some bottoms you can put on? I think the police are outside.”

Flushing, I hurried to the dresser and pulled out a pair of cotton shorts. Nick started to leave the room. “Can you stay? Please?”

Running a hand through his dark hair, he turned around, giving me privacy. “Jesus, Roxy, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so scared.”

I dropped the blanket and pulled the shorts on with shaking hands. Then I picked the blanket up once more, holding it to my chest. I didn’t say anything as we went back out to the living room. I could see blue and red lights flashing outside.

The officer who Nick let inside was around Reece’s age, and I vaguely recognized him. He came to the bar a ­couple of times with the guys. I thought he might be engaged or something. Without my glasses, I couldn’t make out his name. Luckily he introduced himself, saving me the trouble of figuring it out.

Officer Hank Myers.

Ah, yes. Hankie Hank. I remembered him. That was Katie’s nickname for him, and he wasn’t engaged. On second thought, I think he had the hots for Katie, because I was pretty sure he’d let her use him as a pole a ­couple of times at Mona’s.

None of this was important.

“I checked the apartment out,” Nick said. “The window in the extra bedroom was open.”

I gasped. “What?”

“I think that’s how someone got into your house. Odd thing is, though, I didn’t see the screen.”

“I don’t . . . I don’t have a screen in the window right now.” I watched Hank leave the room. “It was damaged a few months ago and the landlord was getting it repaired.” My breath hitched. “The person . . . they came in through the window? Oh God..”

Hank did a quick search that lasted all of a minute tops before returning to the living room. “What’s going on, Roxy?”

Sitting back down on the couch wrapped in a blanket burrito, I told Hankie Hank about the picture. His face was impressively blank as he made his request. “Can I see your phone?”

I handed it over, and when I looked down at my hand, the phone had left thin indentations in my palms. “You have to go into the pictures.”

Nick sat on the arm of the couch. He was silent, but I appreciated his presence and that I wasn’t alone dealing with this.