Before she could answer, a bald man with a large beer belly came striding toward them from the other side of the hall. “It’s about time you came back,” he said, scowling and clearly pissed off.

“Mr. Donovan, what happened?” Faith asked.

“The neighbors said they heard a noise in the middle of the night, and the next day your door was shattered.”

“Nobody came out to check on the unusual sound?” Jason asked in disbelief. His gut instincts about this neighborhood had been spot on.

The heavyset man shook his head. “You’re going to pay to fix the door, young lady.”

Jason stepped into the man’s personal space. “That’s Ms. Lancaster to you. And how about you back off. Did you call the cops?”

“Not my job, not my problem.”

“It’ll be your problem if any of her things are missing and no one reported it. She’s not fixing your door, either. That’s your goddamn job.” Jason pushed past the other man and gingerly removed the tape put up over her door.

“Jason, it’s fine. I’ll deal with it later,” Faith said.

Donovan shook his head and, grumbling, walked back the way he came.

Jason held her hand and led the way into an apartment whose contents had been turned upside down and ripped to shreds.

Chapter Five

Faith held on to her composure by a thread, but she was determined not to let Colton get to her. She’d survive this like she had everything else he’d done to her. Through sheer grit and determination.

She stepped over the sofa pillows he’d tossed onto the floor, the books he’d flipped through and ripped, and the contents of drawers left open that he’d rifled through. She wasn’t sure why he thought she’d be stupid enough to leave money around the house, but that was a desperate addict’s thought process.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked, his hand in hers, his body a solid presence by her side.

“Yes.” She straightened her shoulders. “There was nothing here for him to find.”

“At a glance, is anything missing?”

For the first time, she looked beyond the mess on the floor. She had a small television she’d taken from her room at home in Iowa that sat on the counter in the kitchen. Gone.

She swallowed hard. “Television is gone. My laptop would probably have been gone if I didn’t bring it with me to work.” And her laptop contained all of her business files, so she was grateful for that.

“Any jewelry?” he asked.

“I keep a small box beside my bed. It has a few necklaces, and… Oh my God. Mom’s necklace!” She broke free from his grasp and ran for the small bedroom, which hadn’t fared any better than the living area.

Her bed had been ripped apart, her clothes tossed, probably just for spite, and as she knelt down beside the small night table she’d bought at a secondhand store, her heart stopped. The doors were swinging open, and inside, where her beloved jewelry box had been, was empty.