Page 43 of New Roots
“Let us know what time and we’ll have an officer stop by to let them in since this area will be blocked off until we can secure everything for the investigation,” Officer Trenton said and gave us his contact information. “One other thing, Ms. Nielsen…”
“Stella, please,” her voice somber.
“Because you live in the apartment above, I’d highly recommend you sleep elsewhere for the night until the damage to any connected pipes or electrical can be assessed by the company Mr…” The officer looked at me for an answer.
“Skarsgård. Axel Skarsgård.”
“Until the company Mr. Skarsgård arranged can check it out.”
“You can stay with me,” I offered before I thought better of it. “I have an extra bedroom.”
“Thanks, but I can stay with Luna for…” Stella began to say but was cut off by Luna.
“Stella, you know I love you and will gladly house you if that’s what you want, but you might be safer with Axel, especially since it looks like Braden has gone off the deep end.”
“Speaking of which,” I said, using this as my chance to inform the officers of my suspicions.
“Ms. Nielsen and Ms. LeBlanc already gave us the details of a Mr. Braden Doucet,” Officer Crafter mentioned.
“Our company investigated him over the last few weeks, so we can send over some details from that,” I told them.
“Appreciate it,” Officer Trenton said, handing me his business card.
The officers collected contact information from all of us and told us one of the firefighters would show her the kitchen—from a safe distance—so she could take a look around.
Stella sent Luna home and told her she would call her in the morning when she knew more details.
“Luna, one more thing.” Just before she walked away, I told Luna not to tell anyone that Stella was staying with me until I had time to look into it. I wasn’t taking any chances and wasn’t ready to rule anyone out just yet.
“Try not to worry too much, Stella,” Luna said, giving her a big hug. “I’ll text the other employees and let them know what’s going on in the morning. Let me handle that for you since you’re dealing with everything else. We’ll get this all fixed and back open as soon as possible. Okay?”
Stella’s response was just to nod before breaking away and coming back to me.
“I’m ready.” Her voice seemed stronger than her face gave away.
We walked to the back of the building, where one of the firefighters offered to take us in—carefully.
She gasped as we took one step through the back door.
I moved my hand to her back and pulled her into me. “Hey, we don’t have to do this right now.”
My voice was soft as I used my other hand to stroke her cheek.
“I…I know. But I needed to see how bad it was.” Her voice quivered as she tried to be strong.
We were only able to take two steps in, since that was all the firefighter next to us would allow. Scanning the room, I saw that there was glass everywhere from the window. Anything made of wood, including her chairs and cabinets, was badly damaged, both from the fire and water. A lot of her appliances looked in decent shape, as did her large stainless steel prep table, but we would let the fire damage technicians take a closer look.
“I don’t understand. Why would anyone do this? Why would they want to destroy it?” Her voice hitched at the end, and I could see her eyes welling up.
I pulled at her waist and turned her back to the door. “That’s enough for now. We can come back tomorrow.”
I guided her the few feet back outside, where she promptly curled into me. I hugged her and stroked her hair as I felt her body shudder while she silently cried into me.
“We’ll get this fixed, Stella,” I told her, reaching my hand into my back pocket to pull out my phone. I texted Archer back, requesting his help to board up the window since I planned to take her back to my place so she could catch her breath and stop having to hold it all together for once.
I walked us over to where Trenton and Crafter were standing to let them know we were leaving and that two of my associates would be by to board up the window and secure anything else that needed to be taken care of.
Through that whole conversation, as well as the walk to my car, Stella was like a robot—void of emotion, essentially on autopilot.
