Wondering if my unease at going home was actually visible, I frowned. The shrewd old man seemed to read me too easily. His next words answered that question.

“I’m more than happy to follow you to your apartment and lend my assistance in any way I can.”

“That’s very sweet of you, really,” I said with what I hoped looked like an unconcerned shrug. “But I’m fine. Besides, you probably have the master’s dinner to prepare.”

I’d gotten used to Jerome’s easy chuckle during the afternoon we’d spent working together. It rippled across the store again.

“The master rarely dines at home in the evenings.”

I bet he doesn’t. Probably wining and dining half the town, especially the female half.

Whether I wanted to admit it or not, Lucas Titan was one of the sexiest men I’d ever seen. He made tall, dark, and handsome his bitch. The man had to be at least six foot three, and had thick, black hair that always seemed perfectly styled without trying. Add his dark green eyes, wide shoulders, and narrow hips to the mix, and there weren’t many women who wouldn’t pause to watch him walk by. The diagonal scar slashing upward through his left eyebrow into his hairline added an undeniable hint of danger.

My body lit up at thoughts of him, and I tamped the reaction down. Not going there. Again. It didn’t matter how hot the sex had been; it wasn’t worth my pride.

I pulled my purse from beneath the counter. “Thank you again for your help today.” I was stalling on this last part and couldn’t believe I was actually going to say the words, but I needed to give thanks where it was due. “And thank Mr. Titan as well. Sending you was very thoughtful of him.”

Jerome inclined his chin. “Your thanks is accepted and will be passed on to Mr. Titan.” He walked toward me. “Now, would you at least make an old man feel somewhat useful by taking my phone number in case you run across something troubling at your apartment again?”

“Sure,” I replied. Didn’t mean I’d ever call it, but it was a sweet offer.

“Good,” he said before rattling off the digits, and I punched them into my phone.

We both left the shop, and I locked up behind us. My Jetta was parked at the curb and Jerome climbed into the Aston, which honestly didn’t look that unusual parked on the streets of the Quarter. This area was prime real estate, which translated to big money. Which was why I was going to need a hell of a lot of cash to buy Dirty Dog from Harriet.

I waved good-bye as he drove off, and I got into my own car. A piece of paper sat on the seat. Picking it up, I saw the bold handwriting across the bottom. Paid in full. It was the invoice for my car repair.

When I saw the total, I breathed a sigh of relief. Three hundred bucks. That I could handle. And I’d make sure Titan got a check from me ASAP. I wouldn’t let the man buy me a damn thing.

As I drove home, I debated whether to mail it to his office or his house, and still hadn’t made up my mind when I pulled into the back alley parking spot for my apartment. After turning off the engine, I eyed the exterior stairs for a good five minutes, but didn’t exit the car.

I decided to make a call before I got out. Quickly scrolling through my phone’s contacts, I found her number.

“Hey, it’s Yve,” I said when Valentina picked up.

“Hey, I know.”

“You hear anything from your daddy’s PI? About Jay? Where he might be?”

“Not yet. Daddy has him giving us daily updates, and this morning’s was a joke. Jay has disappeared. Daddy is pissed, and he actually hired me a bodyguard until they find him. The cops have increased patrols in my neighborhood too. I bet if you called in a concern, they’d do it for you too.”

Right. Because the cops would run extra patrols in Tremé because one scared nobody of a woman had no proof of anything. Unlikely. I thought of the detective Titan had offered to call. I bet he could have made it happen, but then again, what couldn’t he make happen?

Stop it, Yve, you’re sounding complimentary about the man.

“Well, stay safe, honey. I’ll be fine,” I said.

“I will, Yve. Watch your back. I don’t trust that bastard.”

Before she could hang up, I asked, “Have you seen anything weird? Like signs that Jay might’ve been around you? In your house?”

Valentina actually laughed. “This place is locked down tighter than Fort Knox. No way in hell he could get in here. My dad made me move home the second we lost our bid to have his parole denied again.”

So maybe I was the only crazy one here.

“Good. Take care, Valentina.”

“You too, Yve.”

After I hung up, I took what I hoped was a deep, courageous breath and climbed out of my car. I tucked my hand into my purse and wrapped my palm around the grip of my revolver. I would never be defenseless again.

I climbed the stairs, unlocked the door, and pushed it open. As soon as I was inside, I withdrew the gun from my bag and held it tightly in both hands in front of me as I walked through every room of my place. I studied every surface, every item, looking for anything that might have been moved. I found nothing.

Saving my bedroom for last, I stepped inside. Everything looked exactly the same, right down to the rumpled sheets on my unmade bed, something that had driven Jay absolutely insane and had earned me that first cracked rib. The drawers to my dresser were all still halfway open, a bad habit that during my marriage had earned me a broken finger, courtesy of being slammed in the drawer as he shut it to prove his point.

The joints and bones in question twinged in horrific memory. But there was nothing else out of place that I could identify. I turned to walk out of the room, but froze three steps from the door.

The mirrored tray where I put my night creams and perfume had an empty space. Chanel No. 5 was gone.

It had been Jay’s favorite scent, and when I’d first gotten away from him, I’d refused to wear it for that very reason. But it was also my favorite perfume, so I’d decided I wouldn’t let him steal that small piece of me. I’d bought a new bottle and wore the perfume whenever the hell I felt like it, but it was gone.

I went to check the bathroom on the off chance I’d moved it. It wasn’t there, and I couldn’t remember moving it.

Someone has been in my apartment.

The same gut-twisting panic from yesterday stole over me, but this time I shoved it down. I wasn’t going to let that man run me out of my own house. I would not. This was my home, and if I left again, I’d be letting him win.