footprint. As if he was trying to convey, “This room doesn’t matter to me.” When it really did.
With a jolt, she thought suddenly of the rearranged pillows earlier in the week. What if that hadn’t been done by Baby’s client but rather by an intruder, who’d cased her apartment, hoping to leave no footprints? And then returned another night.
She lifted her gaze and stared at her desktop. There was a small stack of opened letters, all addressed to her, and also a Post-it with a message from Dara that said, “Kit, we’re out of milk but I’ll pick up a quart on Monday morning.” Anyone looking would know at a glance that this desk was hers.
Eyes back to the drawer. Something, she realized, was missing from one of the little black compartments. A flash drive she’d dropped in there the day before, one she’d been planning to send to a client so he’d have extra photos of his newly renovated one-bedroom apartment. She couldn’t imagine what value that would hold for anyone other than the client.
A thought began to form in her mind and lodged there, chilling her. What if the person had broken in not to steal but to search?
For what, though? Financial data? About her—and her clients? With a shudder she realized, she didn’t have a single clue. But X’s face formed clearly in her mind again.
chapter 9
It was close to 11:30 by the time Kit left for Baby’s, with Andre still working wearily on the door. She made sure that he planned to leave notes for her neighbors on the floor so they’d be aware of what happened and could take whatever precautions they wanted to. By the time she was in a cab, her nerves felt as if someone had taken a grater to them.
Baby opened the door fully dressed in a cream-colored blouse, navy pants, and a thick red leather belt, as if she was coming from a brunch at the Colony Club. She held a half-filled cocktail glass.
“You poor thing,” Baby said, welcoming Kit into the apartment. She nodded toward the glass. “I was fretting so much, I resorted to a second vodka. What can I get you? You must need a stiff drink at this point.”
“Actually, I’d kill for a cup of caffeine-free tea if you have it,” Kit said. “I hate to sound like a wuss, but I feel too wired for anything else.”
“Okay, just give me a minute.”
“But first can I borrow your laptop? I need to get on Dropbox and erase information in some of our files. Whoever stole my laptop may know how to hack in.”
While Baby busied herself in the kitchen, Kit took a seat in the study, logged onto Dropbox and quickly forwarded Baby her current client files, each of which contained credit card info used for purchases. Then she deleted those files on her own laptop. She also sent Baby her most important personal files and trashed those on her computer as well.
Finished, she wandered back to the living room and collapsed onto one of the pair of brown leather sofas. She glanced distractedly around the dazzling space: walls painted a turquoise blue, known officially as Benjamin Moore’s California Breeze; curtains made of Indian bedspreads; huge, ravishing botanical prints on the wall; and in one corner an Egg chair in shocking red, because, well, just because Baby could. What always amazed Kit about the apartment was that it managed to be not only jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but also totally inviting. Tonight, however, she was so churned up inside that she could hardly relish its charms.
She leaned her head back wearily against the sofa and stared at the ceiling. Two hours ago she’d been eager to accept O’Callaghan’s assurance that the break-in had probably been a run-of-the-mill burglary, but based on the missing flash drive and the discreet search through her desk drawer, her gut now told her that she’d be a fool to believe that. Something else was going on.
And X had to be the one behind it. He was an identity thief, after all, and only days after meeting him, her home had been searched for possible data. A coincidence too big to ignore. From the moment she’d been tricked by him, she’d felt his dark presence looming in her life. It was like being hunted by a predator who’d tried to hide behind a floor-length curtain, and yet despite his efforts, you couldn’t miss the terrifying outline of his body on the fabric and the