ELIJAH'S POV
"Break the lock," I said quietly.
"Sir, won't that alert her eventually or bring attention to you?"
"I don't care. It will not matter anyway. Do it."
One of them produced a pair of bolt cutters from somewhere. The padlock snapped with a sharp metallic crack that echoed between the buildings. I grabbed the handle of the rolling door and yanked it up in one smooth motion.
The door went up with a grinding sound like metal scraping against concrete. The unit was empty except for the flashy car, stacked boxes and the overhead light casting harsh shadows across Valentine's collection.
I looked around the space, taking in the scope of what Deborah's father had accumulated. Boxes stacked floor to ceiling, each one labeled in neat handwriting. Financial records. Legal documents. Personal files. And in the back corner, I could see where something had been moved. Plastic sheeting pushed aside. A gap in the arrangement where something large had been stored.
