Page 20 of Amore
“Well?” she asked right away as I slid inside.
“No sign of forced entry. The alarm was still activated, and everything seemed to be in its place.”
“And Amore?”
I grunted a laugh. “You need to send him to guard dog training.”
She balked. “What do you mean?”
“I found him in your closet—”
“My closet?” she questioned. “He was in my closet?”
I nodded.
“I didn’t put him in my closet, Luke.”
“And the roses on your bed?” I knew the answer before I asked, but I had to hear her say it.
Frankie’s brown eyes widened. “What roses on my bed?”
Not answering her question, I asked, “Who else has a key to your place and knows all your codes, including your alarm?”
She thought for a moment. “Just my assistant, but she wouldn’t have a reason to come back or put Amore in my closet.”
“Does she have a crush on you or something?”
She snorted a laugh. “No way. She has a boyfriend and is straight.”
That meant nothing because it was possible Frankie didn’t know what her assistant desired in the bedroom. “Whoever entered your home knew the codes, Franks. Is there anyone else?”
“No.” She shook her head. “She only has it because she sometimes needs to drop things off or take care of Amore. Emily has been my assistant for two years. She wouldn’t do this.”
“Okay.” I sighed. “Let me call this in and get them to come out and make a report. Maybe check for prints if they can.”
“Can I go check on Amore?”
“Of course.” I cranked the engine of my Mustang and pulled the car through the gate.
We got out of the car and went inside her house. Amore ran to greet her, and Frankie gave the dog kisses and rubs on the head while I grabbed my phone. “Let me call this in. Don’t touch the flowers.”
“Can I go look at them?”
“Yeah, but don’t touch any doors in case there are prints.” While Frankie went to her room, I called dispatch. Frankie came back with Amore in tow just as I was finishing the phone call. “All right. An officer should be here shortly.”
“Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t been with you.”
I smiled. “Please tell me you would have called the cops on your own and not just shown up at the house?”
“For sure.” She snorted. She walked toward the kitchen. “Do you want a glass of wine or something? I need something to calm my nerves.”
“I’m good, but thank you.”
She poured herself a glass of red wine, and I chuckled. “What?” she asked.
“Remember when we tried red wine for the first time?” I sat on a barstool at the kitchen island.
She leaned against the other side. “Oh my God, we gagged while Lucy downed the entire glass.”
