Chapter 9: The Break-In
She called Roy before she called the police.
"Don't touch anything," he said.
"I'm sending someone."
The someone was a private investigator named Deb Waller, who arrived within the hour and moved through Nora's office with the focused efficiency of someone who had done this many times.
She photographed everything, bagged the edge of the desk drawer where the files had been disturbed, and asked Nora to write down exactly what had been on the missing laptop.
"Supplier contracts," Nora said.
"My full vendor list for the Nevada and New Mexico branches.
Pricing structures.
Volume commitments."
Deb wrote it down without reacting.
"Anything that would give a competitor an advantage?"
"Everything on that laptop would give a competitor an advantage."
Deb looked up.
"Perkinson?"
"That would be my assumption."
"Roy's too." Deb closed her notebook.
"He wants you to know that Heather's recorded call with her father is scheduled for tomorrow.
Whatever was on that laptop, they moved fast because they know the window is closing."
The police took a report.
The building's security footage showed a man in a gray jacket entering through the service entrance at 2:17 a.m.
using a key card that had been deactivated six months ago — belonging to a former employee who, when contacted, said he had reported the card lost and had no idea how anyone would have it.
Roy called that afternoon.
"The key card is a professional move," he said.
"This isn't Edgar.
Edgar doesn't have those connections."
"Perkinson does," Nora said.
"Yes." A pause.
"Nora, I want you to move your remaining business files to a secure off-site server today.
Everything.
And I want you to change your office access codes."
"Already done."
"Good." He paused again.
"The DA's office called me this morning.
Kristina's attorney has approached them about a plea arrangement."
Nora went still.
"What kind of arrangement?"
"She's offering to provide a full statement about who directed her and what she was told in exchange for a reduced charge.
Reckless endangerment instead of attempted harm."
"She's going to give them Perkinson."
"That appears to be the direction, yes."
Nora sat with that for a moment.
Kristina, who had stood at the top of the stairs with her arms folded and watched the wreckage she'd made.
Kristina, who had called from the hotel lobby and offered to disappear.
Now Kristina, calculating again — trading one powerful man for a lighter sentence.
"Will the DA take it?" Nora asked.
"Depends on what she can actually deliver.
If her statement connects Perkinson directly to the planning—" Roy let that sit.
"It could be significant."
"And the break-in?"
"If they can tie the key card to anyone connected to Perkinson's organization, that's a separate charge.
Potentially federal, depending on what was taken and how it's used."
Nora looked out her office window at the parking lot below.
The same parking lot she had pulled into for twelve years.
The same view she had looked at from a desk she had bought herself when the rented warehouse became a real office.
"Roy," she said.
"Is this almost over?"
"The criminal side is moving," he said.
"The civil side — the divorce, the asset division — that can begin moving in parallel now.
Edgar's attorney contacted Daniel this morning.
Edgar is not contesting the asset division."
"He's cooperating."
"He's cooperating," Roy confirmed.
"He provided a written statement yesterday about the night Perkinson told him to bring Heather to the house.
He didn't know about the snake.
But he knew Kristina had been told to 'handle the situation.' He chose not to ask what that meant."
"And that's on record."
"It's on record."
She exhaled slowly.
"One more thing," Roy said.
"Heather's call with her father is tomorrow at ten.
I'll be listening with our tech team.
If Perkinson says anything usable, we move on him the same day."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then we use what we have and we build from there." A pause.
"Get some rest tonight, Nora.
Tomorrow is going to be a long day."
She stayed in the office another hour, going through supplier files she had already memorized, just to feel the solidity of the work she had built.
Then she drove back to the hotel.
She was in the elevator when her phone buzzed.
A text from a number she didn't recognize.
*He knows about the recording.
Call it off or Heather gets hurt.*
Her finger hovered over the screen.
Then she forwarded it to Roy and called him immediately.
"I just sent you something," she said.
"I see it." His voice shifted — sharper, faster.
"I'm calling Heather right now.
Don't respond to that number."
"I won't." She stepped out of the elevator.
"Roy.
If something happens to her—"
"Nothing is going to happen to her," he said.
"But this just became a threat against a witness.
May you like
That changes what we can do tomorrow significantly."
She stood in the hotel corridor, phone in hand, and waited.
