Page 25 of Jacques

Then she spotted the fire-resistant box where she kept important documents, including her truck title, passport, birth certificate, and the file folder with her military records.

She’d been in a hurry when she’d come back to her apartment before work. Instead of filing the documents she’d taken to the boat factory, she’d laid them inside the fire box on top of her military folder.

Using the tissue again, she carefully opened the lid.

The medical report that recorded her rape and the fact that she had been drugged, along with the crumpled paper with the hand-drawn timeline on it, were not where she’d placed them.

Danny flipped through her other military records in case she had forgotten she’d filed them, which she knew she hadn’t.

Jacques came to stand beside her. “What is it?”

“The documents I brought with me to the boat factory,” she said. “They were here when I left for work.” She met his gaze. “Now, they’re gone.”

“Is that the only thing missing?” Shelby asked.

Danny nodded. “Two documents. Nothing else of value.”

Yaya stood in the doorway to Danny’s bedroom. “Why would someone break into your apartment to steal documents?”

“Someone who wouldn’t want those documents to become evidence?” Shelby offered.

Danny nodded, meeting Jacques’s gaze.

“We have copies,” he reminded her. Then he looked around the apartment.

Shelby turned to Yaya. “Were you in the studio most of the day?”

Yaya nodded. “I was. I have several classes every day except Sunday.”

“Did you see anyone lurking around the building?”

Yaya’s brow furrowed. “Not someone walking around.” Her eyes widened. “However, I did notice a car parallel parked for the longest time in front of the real estate office across the street. As far as I could tell, no one ever got out. I almost went over to tell the driver LaShawnda Jones was on a two-week vacation.”

Danny grimaced at the thought of someone staking out her place in broad daylight.

Shelby pulled a notepad out of her shirt pocket. “Did you get the make and model?”

Yaya shook her head. “No. I didn’t think to. It was a black, four-door sedan with heavily tinted windows. I could tell there was someone inside, but I couldn’t see a face. Then I had to get back to work. By the time I finished the class, the car was gone.”

“I’ll see if we can pull video from security cameras.” Shelby made a note on her pad. Then she crossed to the door. “He didn’t get in by breaking down the door,” she said, studying the doorframe, “and I didn’t see any broken windows. Were all your windows locked?” she asked Danny.

“Every one of them. I double-check them every night,” Danny said.

The deputy fisted her hands on her hips. “So, he either has a master key of some sort, or he has mad skills in picking locks.”

Danny hugged her arms around herself. “That’s not reassuring.”

“No, it’s not,” Jacques said. “If he could get in that easily, he could get in again.”

“I can have a locksmith come and install better locks, but it might take a day or two to get on his schedule,” Yaya said. “In the meantime, you could stay with me.”

Danny smiled at her landlord. “Thanks, but I’ll be okay. I’ll just shove a chair under the doorknob. Being an expert at picking locks won’t get around that.”

“I still need to dust for prints. That could take a while, and it’ll leave black dust on most surfaces.” Shelby grimaced. “You might want to take Yaya up on her offer.”

Jacques shook his head. “This break-in changes things,” he said.

Danny nodded.