Angel Sleuth by Lesley A. Diehl Page A

Hendricks here. We need you down at the newspaper office. Now.” He hung up before Kaitlin could ask him any questions.
    Now what? And what about the appointment with my mysterious note writer?
    “I’ve got to go to the newspaper office,” said Kaitlin.
    “I’ll come along,” said Mary Jane.
    “You stay here with Jeremy. I don’t know how long this will take, and there’s no sense keeping him up late two nights in a row.” She knew she sounded snarly and accusatory, but for a moment she didn’t care. Then the guilt hit her. She had no right to be so dismissive of Mary Jane’s offer of help.
    “Let us know if we can do anything,” said Mary Jane. The expression on her face was one of concern. Kaitlin wondered if she could believe that look.
    A police cruiser sat outside the newspaper office, its red light flashing. Hendricks, an officer she remembered from her high school years, stood in front of the counter. How old was this guy? He had always impressed her as a man who wouldn’t feel quite complete without a uniform and a lot of gadgets hanging from his belt.
    Brittany stood alongside Hendricks, leaning toward him as he wrote down something in his notebook. Her hand rested lightly on his shoulder, a move the officer seemed to be appreciating.
    “Someone broke into your office,” said Brittany. “Delbert is out of town tonight so the police got me on my cell. Officer Hendricks wants you to take a close look and tell him what’s missing.”
    “Yup,” said Hendricks. He did an I’m-in-authority-here swagger into the office and beckoned Kaitlin to follow.
    “It looks as if a hurricane hit,” said Kaitlin.
    She was right. Papers littered the floor, desk drawers stood open, and file cabinets lay on their sides on the floor, their folders splayed out onto the rug. The laptop computer no longer sat on the desk, yet the stereo and CD player remained undisturbed on a shelf across the room, and the small television sat on the table near the door, its remote on the desk where it had been earlier today.
    “The TV and stereo are still here, but the computer is gone,” she said. Hendricks chawed on his toothpick while his eyes surveyed the room.
    “TV looks kinda beat up. What about the stereo?” he asked.
    “It’s at least ten years old,” said Brittany.
    “Thieves know their business, taking only what is worth hocking. Anything else gone?” he asked.
    Kaitlin bent to examine the papers and folders from the drawers and file cabinets where they fell or where someone had tossed them onto the floor. It seemed to her the intruders threw the contents of the drawers on the floor for effect without taking anything.
    “As nearly as I can tell, everything else is here. No, wait.” The bottom right-hand desk drawer was empty. She scrounged around among the papers on the floor for a few moments longer then sat back on her haunches.
    “All of the letters written to the advice column are gone, Leda’s and mine.”
    “Guess our thief wanted something to read to amuse himself while he waited to fence the computer. That’s about all that advice stuff is good for—a laugh or two. Don’t know why anyone writes into that column anyway. Begging your pardon, Kaitlin, but it’s a sorry human who can’t handle his problems on his own,” Hendricks said.
    Kaitlin was developing her own theory about why the thief or thieves wanted those letters. As was Brittany, it appeared.
    “So why didn’t he take anything else like the computer on my desk or the one on Delbert’s in there?” Brittany pointed to Delbert’s office.
    The door stood open, yet it appeared the intruder or intruders had ignored his office. His laptop sat closed on the desk, the desk surface and floor were free of papers, and the filing cabinet stood against the far wall, its drawers closed.
    Hendricks switched his toothpick from the left side of his mouth to the right and shrugged.
    “Who knows what goes through these guys’ heads? Likely needed only