As she walked out of the elevator on the second floor, Claire scanned the closed doors. She’d only taken a couple of steps when one flew open, and there was an older man with bright-white hair standing there.

“I think…they’re in there,” he said, stepping back to let Claire enter. His entire body was shaking, and he held a small puppy in his arms. His expression was a mixture of fear and confusion. “I don’t know why, but they shut the door…”

With her hand on her weapon, Claire moved past him and walked toward the closed bedroom door. She swung it open and frowned as she surveyed the scene.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she said, looking at the two women standing in front of her and dropping her hand from her holster.

It was Emma Bentley and Paula Wileson.

They’d obviously been in a fight of some kind. But they’d stopped and were standing at least two feet apart from each other, staring at something between their feet.

A laptop.

Shattered in half, keys scattered everywhere on the floor.

Claire heard Bolton gasp behind her, and he rushed forward.

“My computer!” he said.

The two women standing over it looked up at Claire, and then they began speaking at once.

“She smashed it!” Emma yelled, moving quickly toward the door. “She was hiding in the closet with it when we came in, and I asked Mr. Bolton to leave the room because I knew she was crazy. But not this crazy.”

“What are you talking about?” Paula said, taking a step forward, anger covering her face.

Claire moved forward and stood between them, glaring at them both.

Paula kept speaking. “She smashed it! I was trying to save the video on it.”

“What are you talking about?” Emma asked. “She was trying to delete it because she said there were videos from other nights that might incriminate him. She’s been following me around because she thought that would help her get closer to him—when I don’t even know him!”

“She broke into my apartment,” Bolton said from the doorway, the shaking man from a moment ago gone and anger in his voice. “And she broke my computer!”

“I didn’t break it!” Paula yelled.

“Enough!” Claire said.

“Mrs. Wileson, I’m going to have to charge you with trespassing.”

“That’s the least of it!” Bolton said.

Claire watched as the woman looked back and forth between her and Emma, protests on her lips. Finally, she nodded and began walking slowly toward the door.

“Everyone, please leave the room. I’ll get someone here to get the laptop.”

“You have to fix it,” Paula said, looking up at Claire, and behind her crazed, frantic expression, there was something else there that Claire couldn’t ignore.

Desperation.