"They won't come back. They took what they wanted," she said. "They got everything."
"Not everything," he said, meeting her gaze. "They didn't get you, and I'm going to make sure that doesn't happen."
"I don't want you to stash me in some hotel. I won't feel any safer."
"Until I can figure out a safehouse, I'm taking you to my apartment. I live in a security building. It will work for at least tonight."
She wasn't sure how she felt about going to Matt's place, but it was better than being left in a safehouse with agents she didn't know. Hopefully, it would only be for a night or two.
Thirty minutes later, after throwing clothes into an overnight bag, along with toiletries, her passport, birth certificate, cash, and her jewelry, Matt drove her to his apartment. When they'd left, the manager was already working with someone to fix her door and locks, so she was happy not to have to leave her apartment open.
Matt's apartment building in Santa Monica was a modern high-rise with a uniformed doorman and the kind of understated luxury that whispered rather than shouted wealth. After parking in the secure underground garage, they rode the elevator to the twelfth floor. Matt's unit was at the end of the hall, and stepping into his apartment felt like walking into a showroom at a furniture store. The open-plan living area featured sleek, stylish furniture in shades of gray and black, with splashes of navy blue in the throw pillows and an area rug. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a distant view of the Pacific Ocean, the water glittering in the late afternoon sun.
"Guest room is down the hall," he said, setting her bag down. "Bathroom is right across from it. Make yourself at home. I'm going to check in with my team."
"Thank you," she said, meaning it. "I know this is above and beyond, Matt."
"It's no problem. I want you safe. And where I can keep an eye on you."
She felt a flutter in her chest at his protective tone, but she pushed it aside. This was about the case, nothing more.
While Matt disappeared into what she assumed was his home office, she explored the apartment. The kitchen was small but efficient, with high-end appliances. The refrigerator and freezer were surprisingly well-stocked, as were the cabinets and a spice rack. It was the only room so far that felt like it was used.
The living room had a large flat-screen TV, a leather sofa, and built-in bookshelves that held mostly nonfiction—biographies, true crime, and books about financial fraud. No novels, no poetry, nothing that revealed the man behind the badge.
The sliding glass door led to a small balcony with a bistro table and two chairs. Haley stepped outside, breathing in the ocean air and letting the stress of the day fade. With the water in the distance and the sound of traffic muted by the height of the building, she started to relax.
The door slid open, and Matt joined her by the rail. She gave him a questioning look. "Anything new?"
"No. Just filling my team in on what happened. They'll check security cameras in the area to see if we can find your burglar."
"Your team works weekends?"
"There's always a support staff on duty."
"The man in my apartment didn't sound like a Westbridge grad, more like someone who was hired."
"I agree. I doubt any of the Westbridge boys do their own dirty work, but there could be a money trail."
"The files they stole aren't worth anything to them. They'll soon see I don't know that much. Maybe that will make me less of a target."
"Maybe," he said in an unconvincing tone.
"I really wish I knew how Sabrina got new evidence. If she found something, why can't we?" she asked in frustration.
"We're not done, Haley."
"It feels like we are."
"It's just a setback."
"Someone destroyed my apartment. It was a vicious attack. It felt like they weren't just trying to steal my stuff; they were sending me a message."
"I know. I understand why you're upset," he said, meeting her gaze. "But try to look at this another way."
"There's another way?" she asked doubtfully.
"Every action they take gives them more exposure. We have another lead to follow."
