Chapter 29 Stop Digging
Sloane
"Is this Sloane Hartford?"
The voice was deep and professional. It wasn't Richard, and it wasn't Cade.
"Yes," I said, my grip tightening on the phone. "Who is this?"
"This is Officer Miller with the local police department. I’m calling because we’ve had a report of a break-in at your office on 5th Avenue."
I felt the blood drain from my face..
"A break-in?" I whispered. "When?"
"It looks like it happened sometime this evening," the officer said. "A security guard on his rounds noticed the door was forced open. We need you to come down and take a look. We need to know if anything is missing."
"I... I can be there in twenty minutes," I said.
"The scene is secure, Ms. Hartford. Take your time. Just ask for Miller when you arrive."
I hung up the phone, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Someone had broken into my office.
My mind raced. Was it Richard? Was he looking for something I might have taken? Or was it someone else? Someone who knew I had been eavesdropping?
I looked at the front door, wondering if Cade would walk through it. But he wasn't here. I was alone, and the world was starting to close in on me.
I grabbed my keys and my coat. I couldn't wait for him. If someone was digging through my life, I had to see what they were looking for. I had to know how much they already knew.
As I walked toward the door, I passed the mirror in the hallway. I caught a glimpse of myself. I looked pale, my eyes wide with fear. I didn't look like a powerful Hartford bride. I looked like a girl who was about to lose everything.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my hands. Smile. Don’t flinch. I stepped out into the hallway and headed for the elevator. Every shadow in the parking garage felt like a person. Every sound felt like a footstep. I got into my car and locked the doors, my heart hammering against my ribs.
As I drove toward my office, I realized that Maria was right to be frightened.
Every car that came up behind me made my heart skip a beat. When a pair of headlights stayed behind me for more than three blocks, I felt a knot of panic in my throat. I kept checking my rearview mirror, watching for any sign that I was being followed.
The city didn't feel like my home anymore. The tall buildings looked like they were leaning over the street, watching me. The dark alleys between the shops looked like deep, black holes.
I started to think about what was inside my office. I went through everything in my head.
Was there a notebook I forgot to hide? Did I leave my laptop open? I tried to remember if I had written down anything about Cade or the "transfer" I heard Richard talking about.
I pulled up to my office on 5th Avenue. There were two police cars parked out front, their blue and red lights flashing against the brick walls.
I stepped out of the car, my legs feeling like lead. I walked toward the entrance, my eyes fixed on the shattered glass of the front door.
"Ms. Hartford?" a man in a dark uniform asked, stepping forward.
"Yes, that’s me," I said.
"Officer Miller," he said, nodding toward the stairs. "Everything is upstairs. We haven't touched much. We were waiting for you."
I followed him up the stairs, the sound of my own heartbeat drumming in my ears. When we reached the third floor, I saw my office door. The wood was splintered around the lock.
I stepped inside. The room was a mess. Files were scattered across the floor. My desk drawers had been ripped out and emptied. Books had been pulled off the shelves.
But as I looked around, I realized the expensive computer was still there. The silver clock on the mantel was untouched. Even the petty cash box in the top drawer was still shut.
This wasn't a robbery. A thief would have taken the laptop. A thief would have taken the money. Whoever did this wasn't looking for things to sell.
This was a message
I felt a sudden, sharp pain of loneliness. I thought of calling Cade. But then I remembered how he looked this morning.
He was so hard, like a piece of stone. If I called him, would he even ask if I was okay? Or would he just want to know if the intruders found any evidence?
"Does anything look missing, Ms. Hartford?" Officer Miller asked.
I had to pull myself together. I put on my "mask." I straightened my back and acted like the composed Hartford heir everyone expected me to be. "It's hard to tell yet," I said calmly. "They certainly made a mess."
As I spoke, I found myself watching Miller closely.
Was he really a cop? Or was he one of the many people my uncle paid to stay quiet? In my world, it was hard to tell the difference between the law and the family.
I didn't feel safe with him standing there. I felt like I was being watched by everyone.
He stepped into the hallway to answer his radio, which was crackling with noise.
The moment he left, the room went deathly quiet. I was all alone in the middle of the wreckage. I could hear my own fast breathing. The smell of the room had changed. It smelled like dust and the cold night air coming through the broken door.
Nothing seemed to be missing. It was even hard to tell so soon.
I turned around to tell the officer, but he was busy talking on his radio in the hallway. I was alone in the room.
I walked over to my desk, my boots crunching on broken glass. At the center of the desk was a single item.
It was a folded note. Clean, not affected by the wreckage. Almost as though someone wanted me to see it as soon as I turned to my desk.
They had used dark, heavy ink to write something right there on the paper. The ink looked fresh and wet. It was written in big letters that looked like they were screaming at me.
STOP DIGGING.