Chapter 7 - They Were Already Inside My Home
The room fell silent.
I stared at Detective Mercer, certain I had heard him wrong.
"My condo?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
"They got there before we did."
A knot tightened in my stomach.
"How?"
"I never told anyone where I keep my documents."
Mercer closed the folder in front of him.
"They didn't need you to tell them."
"They already knew."
The words hit me harder than the stitches in my head.
Of course they knew.
Adrian had lived with me for almost four years.
He knew every room.
Every closet.
Every hiding place.
He even knew which kitchen drawer I kept the spare keys in.
I closed my eyes.
"They're looking for the property papers."
"That's our assumption."
Another detective stepped into the room carrying a tablet.
"The patrol officers just arrived at the condo."
"They've secured the building."
"Was anything stolen?"
"Not yet."
My pulse raced.
"Not yet?"
"The apartment is in complete disarray."
"Every drawer has been emptied."
"Closets have been searched."
"The home office was completely torn apart."
I gripped the edge of the hospital bed.
"My file cabinet."
"The officers say someone tried to pry it open."
A wave of relief washed over me.
"Tried?"
"It held."
The detective gave a small nod.
"They didn't get inside."
I finally exhaled.
The cabinet was fireproof.
Steel reinforced.
I had bought it years ago after storing important engineering contracts at home.
I had never imagined it would one day protect my own future.
Mercer's phone buzzed.
He answered immediately.
"Mercer."
He listened without speaking.
His expression darkened.
"When?"
Another long pause.
"I'll be there as soon as I can."
He ended the call and looked at me.
"The patrol officers found something."
"What?"
"They found blood."
My heart skipped a beat.
"Whose blood?"
"We don't know yet."
"It wasn't yours."
I frowned.
"How do you know?"
"The blood is fresh."
"You've been here for over two hours."
A strange feeling settled over me.
Someone had been injured inside my condo.
But who?
And why?
Mercer seemed to read my thoughts.
"The intruder probably cut himself."
"Breaking the cabinet?"
"Or breaking the window."
"The crime scene unit will know more."
A nurse entered my room.
"Detective."
"The patient needs to rest."
"I'll only be another minute."
He turned back to me.
"I have one question."
I nodded.
"Besides you and Adrian..."
"Who else knew about that file cabinet?"
I thought carefully.
Then one name surfaced.
"My best friend."
"Sophia."
"She helped me move into the condo years ago."
Mercer made a note.
"Anyone else?"
"No."
He studied my face.
"You trust her?"
"With my life."
He nodded.
"I'm sure you thought the same about your husband once."
The words stung.
Not because they were cruel.
Because they were true.
After the detectives left, I lay awake staring out the hospital window.
Rain had begun falling over the city.
The lights of Mission Bay blurred behind the glass.
I suddenly realized something.
The intruder hadn't gone straight to the bedroom.
Or the safe.
Or the jewelry box.
They had gone directly to my home office.
Straight to the file cabinet.
That wasn't random.
Someone had told them exactly where to look.
The thought sent a chill through me.
The next morning, Detective Mercer returned.
This time, he wasn't alone.
A woman in a navy blazer walked beside him.
She carried a leather briefcase.
"Claire."
"This is Assistant District Attorney Rebecca Lawson."
Rebecca offered her hand.
"I'm sorry we're meeting under these circumstances."
I shook it carefully.
Mercer got straight to the point.
"The lab rushed the blood sample."
"And?"
"It doesn't belong to Adrian."
I frowned.
"Then whose is it?"
Rebecca opened her briefcase.
"The DNA belongs to someone already in the national database."
She slid a photograph across my bed.
The man looked to be in his early forties.
Short dark hair.
A scar above his left eyebrow.
I had never seen him before.
"Who is he?"
Mercer answered.
"His name is Victor Kane."
"Professional burglar."
"Multiple convictions."
"Known for high-end residential break-ins."
I looked at the photo again.
"What does he have to do with the Caldwells?"
Rebecca folded her hands.
"That's exactly what we're trying to figure out."
Mercer placed another document beside the photo.
"But here's where it gets interesting."
I picked it up.
It was a recent bank transfer.
Five thousand dollars.
Sent three days earlier.
The sender's name made my blood run cold.
Caldwell Family Holdings LLC.
I looked up slowly.
"They hired him."
Rebecca nodded.
"That's what it looks like."
Mercer leaned forward.
"Which means this wasn't a burglary."
"It was a targeted search."
"They weren't looking for valuables."
"They were looking for something specific."
"The documents."
I whispered.
Mercer nodded.
"Yes."
"But we don't think that's all."
He reached into his folder and removed one final evidence photo.
It showed the wall beside my file cabinet.
At first, I didn't understand what I was looking at.
Then I noticed it.
Someone had written four words across the white paint with a bleeding finger.
YOU SHOULD HAVE SIGNED.
A cold shiver ran through my entire body.
This wasn't just intimidation anymore.
It was personal.
Someone wanted me terrified.
Someone wanted me to believe they could reach me anywhere.
Rebecca quietly closed the file.
"They're escalating."
Mercer looked me straight in the eye.
May you like
"And until we know who's giving the orders..."
"...you're not safe."
