Chapter 77
Mike placed his hands over Robbie’s ears before saying, “Holy fucking shit.”
“Ditto,” I said.
The living room was a disaster. Holes had been punched in the walls, and there were splatters of odd colors on them. It got worse as we toured the rest of the rooms. “Robbie,” I said, “run out to the car and get the camera.”
“Dad,” he said, “the car is locked.”
I pushed a button on the clicker and said, “Not anymore.”
“Okay,” he said.
We always carried the digital camera with us when we made an inspection. “Document, document, document” being the watchword. This was our first instance of real damage inflicted by tenants, and it was a classic. Robbie handed me the camera, and I went to work. I carefully recorded every tiny bit of damage to the interior and exterior of the house, and almost filled the camera’s memory card to capacity in the process.
“What now?” Mike said.