Page 217 of Lorenzo

Because despite whatever impression Lorenzo occasionally has of my ability to make sensible decisions, I am not an idiot.

My actual case material is digital, encrypted, backed up, and protected. Anything especially sensitive is never kept in one place where someone can walk in, open a drawer, and take it.

I look from the filing cabinet to the rest of the room.

“They were looking for the case.”

Mocha continues sniffing.

The mess makes more sense once I look at it from that perspective.

This was not someone tossing the office for valuables.

They searched the desk, the cabinets, the files.

They were looking for information.

Maybe they wanted everything I have on Rachel.

Maybe Harbor Peak.

Maybe Lakeview.

Probably all of it.

I glance toward the laptop bag still sitting near the door.

Whoever came in found nothing useful because I left nothing useful here for them to find.

That should be comforting.

It isn't.

Instead, I groan out loud.

What are the chances they didn't break into my house and leave just as big a mess there?

I have a security system, and it didn't go off, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

I straighten and start dialing the police.

Mocha finally leaves the filing cabinet and comes back toward me.

“He’s going to lose his mind.” I scratch behind his ear while I listen to the ringing. “This morning officially sucks.”

First the police.

Then Lorenzo.

After that, I am going to find out exactly what Lakeview Logistics is and why one name was enough to change everything between last night and this morning.

Because now I am officially pissed off.

Chapter Twenty Seven

Lorenzo

The sight of the two police cars parked in front of Donna's building does nothing to improve the temper I have been carrying since she called me.