Page 34 of All Yours

Her work? Why would anyone want to steal an unfinished manuscript? Was he aware of what he took? Maybe this was random? Was it a coincidence this happened the same day of the book release?

I inspected the splintered remains of the doorjamb.

“Someone just kicked it in,” Mike said.

“Bold choice with someone here,” I said, looking at the hinges.

“It’s my belief that the perpetrator knew the only occupant was a single woman. He’d probably watched her.”

Even though Hart Valley was a small-town, we weren’t immune from crime. It sometimes happened, but it didn’t sit well with me that someone might have been watching Sloane. Where was Eden? Was Mike aware of the person in the apartment?

“I saw there’s a search out when I got here. You think the guy’s still in the woods?”

Mike shook his head. “I doubt it. I’m betting he had a getaway car out on the road and made a beeline for it and drove off out of town. But chief sent a few guys out to see if they could find anything.”

I glanced around for Sloane and found her coming toward us with a steaming mug in her hand.

“What’d you make?” I asked.

“Chamomile. Thought it might help me calm down.”

“I’ll have to go into town in the morning and get a new door and supplies. We can just barricade it for now.”

“Can’t you just nail it shut?” Sloane asked.

“That’s against fire code,” I said, looking over the busted jamb again. I could nail the top, but if she needed to make a quick retreat out the back door, she’d be screwed.

“What if he comes back?” Sloane asked, looking up at me through her eyelashes. Her piercing blue eyes stabbing me in the heart. She was killing me.

“You could always hit him with the bat again,” Mike offered. “But he’s not coming back,” he added after we stared at him. “We’re combing the woods. If he’s there, he’s not getting away.”

“Jonah,” Sloane whined.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. No more sleep for me tonight.

Mike helped me barricade the door with furniture from around the place, and he left me alone with Sloane.

She’d curled up on the end of the sofa, sipping her tea.

“How’s the tea?” I asked.

“It’s okay,” she shrugged.

“Did you tell him about Eden?” I asked, sitting on the coffee table in front of her, elbows on knees.

“What about her?”

“That she exists and lives in the adjacent apartment?”

Sloane sat sipping her tea for a moment. “She didn’t hear anything and couldn’t contribute—”

“Sloane.”

“What?” she snapped, finally looking me in the eye.

“You didn’t give the police all the information.”

“She has nothing to do with this.”

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