"Okay, got it. My partner, Officer Cruz, is checking the inside." He'd no sooner finished speaking when Officer Cruz stepped into the hallway.
"All clear," he said.
"FBI is taking over," Officer Connelly told his partner, then turned back to Matt. "We'll let you take it from here. You can finish talking to the witness."
"Thanks," Matt said, turning to Mrs. Gonzalez as the officer left. "Can you tell me what happened?"
Mrs. Gonzalez nodded vigorously. "I was coming back from the market. I had just gotten to the top of the stairs when I saw a man coming out of Haley's apartment. He looked like he was running away from something. He had tools in his hands—a crowbar or something metal. When he saw me, he pushed past me and knocked me down right there in the hallway." She gestured to the area near the stairwell. "Called me a name I won't repeat."
"Can you describe him?" Matt asked.
"White man, maybe five ten, average build. He had brown hair—I could see some of it sticking out from under his hood. He had a beard, kind of scruffy. Dark glasses and one of those black face masks. And gloves—black gloves, like people wear when it's cold. He was very scary looking."
"Did he say anything else?" Matt asked.
"No. He was moving fast."
"Was he carrying anything but a crowbar?"
"Actually, he had a big backpack, too. It was hanging off his shoulder." She paused, looking at Haley with concern. "Are you in trouble, Haley? Don't I always tell you to stop stirring the pot with your news articles?"
Haley gave her a tense smile. "You do. I don't think this is related to that, though."
"Then what's it about?"
"I'm not sure. Thank you again for calling me right away."
"Is there something else I can do? What about your door? You can't stay there with a broken door."
"We'll take care of that," Matt told her. "You can go home."
"All right. You call me or knock on my door if you need anything, Haley."
"I will." As Mrs. Gonzalez moved down the hall, she stepped into her apartment and was shocked at the chaotic scene. Her living room had been turned upside down. Couch cushions were slashed open. Books had been swept off shelves, papers strewn everywhere. In the kitchen, every cabinet door hung open, dishes pulled out and left in haphazard piles.
"He really went at it," Matt observed as he followed her inside.
"My files," she whispered, rushing toward the dining room chair where her files on Landon had been sitting, but they were no longer there. Her computer was also missing. Everything was gone. "All my notes, all the copies of police reports, everything about Landon's case is gone, not to mention the research I had on my computer about other stories I've been working on."
Matt gave her a grim look. "Do you have a backup?"
"For most of my computer files, but not my personal handwritten notes." As she gazed at the rest of Landon's things that were strewn on the floor, she realized that the personal items had held no interest for the burglar. "I'm going to check my bedroom."
She moved into her small bedroom with a sense of dread, and her worst fears were confirmed when she saw that her dresser drawers had been pulled out and overturned, clothes scattered everywhere. Her mattress had been flipped, her closet ransacked. But the burglar had missed the hidden compartment in the top of her dresser, which contained her jewelry, passport, birth certificate, and two hundred dollars in cash. She'd also put the necklace she'd gotten from Landon into the compartment before she'd gone to bed and was thrilled that the last gift her brother had given her was still in her possession.
"Anything missing?" Matt asked from the doorway.
"I'm not sure. He missed this compartment in my dresser with my jewelry, papers, and cash. I guess that's good, but I can't believe I lost all my files and my computer. That's going to be expensive to replace." She blew out a breath, knowing there was no point in crying over what was already done. She had most of her work backed up, so that wasn't an issue, and she'd find a way to buy a new computer. But she still felt a wave of loss for the notes she'd composed after Landon's death. "I remember almost everything from my investigation into Landon's death, but it still hurts to lose my thoughts from that time."
"I understand. You have every right to be angry and upset."
"It won't get me anywhere. I don't know what to do now."
"Do you have a building manager?"
"Yes. His number is on the side of my cabinet in the kitchen."
"I'll call him and see if he can get someone out here to fix your door and change the lock. In the meantime, pack a bag. You're not staying here tonight."
