Page 220 of Lorenzo

“Before you start—”

“You went inside alone.”

Her expression flattens.

“I knew you were going to start there.”

“You went inside alone.”

“I had Mocha.”

I glance toward him.

Mocha looks back at me as though he expects to be consulted.

“That does not improve the situation.”

“He is deeply offended.”

“I am sure he will survive.”

Donna exhales and walks past me toward the desk, bending to collect several papers from the floor.

I let her move while I finally take the time to examine the office properly.

The mess is more extensive than it appeared from the doorway. Whoever came inside opened nearly everything they could reasonably search: desk drawers, storage cabinets, files, even the compartment beneath the counter.

I cross toward the filing cabinet.

“They spent more time here.”

Donna straightens with several papers in her hands.

“Mocha thought so too.”

I look at her.

“He kept going back to it. Whoever was in here left more scent around the filing cabinet than anywhere else.”

“They were looking for your case material.”

“That’s what I think.”

“You keep it here?”

“No.”

The relief that comes with her answer is immediate, and judging by the look she gives me, obvious.

“Relax. I’m not stupid.”

“I have never thought you were.”

“You occasionally act like it.”

“Not once,” I say, daring her to argue.

But she knows she can't.