Hiding in the Shadows by Kay Hooper

open, the stuffing bulging half out of them. Prints were torn off the walls and from their frames, the glass broken. Shelves were pulled away from the walls, tables overturned. In the kitchen, the cabinet doors were open, the counters and sink littered with boxes and cans, and both the refrigerator and the freezer had been searched. In the bedroom, her clothing lay heaped onthe floor, along with the bedding. The mattress had been slashed open.
    Faith stood looking at the mess, her skin crawling with the sensation of having been violated.
    “I should call the police,” she said.
    Kane and Bishop exchanged glances, then Kane said, “I have a friend in the department. Let me call him. I think we’ll be better off if we can avoid a media circus.” When Faith looked at him, he added, “So far, there’s no public connection between you and me, or even you and Dinah. I say we keep it that way as long as possible.”
    Faith agreed, even as she asked herself if she was deferring to Kane because he was right, or because it was easier to let him make the decisions.
    I don’t even know that about myself .
    Not even that .
    Kane’s police detective friend was Guy Richardson, a tall, beefy man with thinning brown hair and deceptively mild brown eyes. He arrived with a disinterested police photographer who took pictures of the apartment, spoke briefly and quietly to Kane—filling him in on the lack of progress in the search for Dinah, perhaps?—and then looked around the place thoroughly before asking Faith if she knew for sure if anything had been taken.
    Faith had already thought about that and was able to offer an answer. “As far as I can tell, nothing that was here when I left yesterday evening is missing.” They were sitting at the small kitchen table, and her hands were tightly clasped before her.
    “Kane explained about the amnesia. So you haveno idea why your apartment was searched twice in the last few weeks?”
    “No.”
    “I looked at the report of the previous break-in. Your neighbors were questioned, but no one saw a stranger hanging around or heard anything suspicious. There was no sign of forced entry, but an open window was found.” He paused. “This time, there was no open window and the lock was picked. Which tells me a pro got in here, and he did it without leaving much evidence. I can dust for prints, but I’d bet my pension he wore gloves.”
    There didn’t seem to be anything to say, so Faith remained silent, her gaze flickering from her clasped hands to the men around the table.
    Kane said, “Assuming he didn’t find what he was looking for, do you think he’ll be back?”
    “I think the man is very serious about his work,” Richardson said. “Whatever he wants is important, either because he was hired to find it or because he wants it badly himself. My guess is that he won’t stop looking.”
    “Then Faith isn’t safe here.”
    Richardson agreed. “I’d advise her to stay somewhere else until we get this figured out.”
    Faith couldn’t help wondering if Kane had asked his friend to make that statement—then chided herself for being so suspicious. Still, she had to protest. “But after searching twice, he must know that whatever he’s looking for isn’t here.”
    Richardson didn’t hesitate. “I’m sure he does. But what he doesn’t know is whether you have what he’s looking for in your possession or have hidden it somewhere outside this apartment.”
    Bishop spoke then, his voice cool. “There is another possibility. This second break-in might have been less a search and more a tactic used to intimidate. His aim could be to frighten Faith enough that she either leads him to what he’s looking for, or is too afraid to make use of it herself.”
    “But what is it he’s looking for?” Faith asked, feeling more desperate than she wanted to admit. “I don’t know. I don’t remember. Was it something I took from him? Something I found? Something given to me for