From out of the corner of his eye, Juan noticed movement below in the parking lot. A group of four men converged at the base of the stairs.

“Um, some people with FBI windbreakers just arrived.”

“Did you say the FBI?”

“Dr. Gutierrez?” called one of the men. He flashed something that might have been a badge, and he wore a pistol in a shoulder holster.

The three other men entered his apartment.

Juan nodded. “I’m Dr. Gutierrez. I’m on the phone with 911.”

“Juan, the police are two blocks away.”

The man’s chiseled features grimaced as the sound of a siren blared in the distance. He pressed a button on something against his throat and whispered something Juan couldn’t hear.

The sound of breaking glass sounded from inside his apartment, followed by what sounded like swearing in German. The three men who’d entered his apartment came back out, and then all four men raced down the stairs.

“Juan, what’s going on?”

“I have no idea. The FBI came, entered my apartment, and then left!”

Two black-and-white cop cars raced into the parking lot with their lights flashing just as a black-paneled van passed them on its way out.

“Two cop cars just arrived.”

“I’ve just received confirmation that officers Taggart and Wilson from the Arlington PD are at the scene. They should be able to handle this from here on in.”

“Okay, thank you.”

The cops raced up the stairs. One had his gun drawn and aimed at the ground.

Juan stepped back nervously. “I’m Juan Gutierrez, I called this in.”

“Mr. Gutierrez.” The lead officer approached, keeping about ten feet between him and Juan. “Can you please show me some ID?”

Juan showed the AgriMed picture ID that was still clipped to his lab coat. “This is my work ID. I have a driver’s license in my wallet, but I’d have to reach into my back pocket.”

The officer leaned in close enough for Juan to read the name “Taggart” on his uniform.

Taggart nodded. “Please stay here while we enter and clear the scene.”

Juan’s heart thudded loudly as the two officers, both with guns drawn, entered his apartment.

###

“I’m sorry to call you at night, Dr. Winslow.” Juan’s voice shook as he pressed the Bluetooth earpiece that was linked to his cellphone into place. It crackled with some static as several newly arrived policemen took photos of the devastation in his apartment.

“No, you did the right thing. The FBI were there?”

Juan shook his head as he stared at the broken furniture, torn-up mattress, and books with their spines ripped open. “They wore FBI windbreakers and flashed a badge, but I don’t know. It’s all kind of surreal.”

A cop approached with a clipboard. “Mr. Gutierrez, I know it’s hard to tell, but did you notice anything missing?”