Claire unlocked the storage unit at dawn and froze. The door hung crooked on its hinges. Boxes lay split open across the floor. Somewhere inside this mess was the man in the photograph, or the trail that led to him, and someone else wanted him found first. A small brown and white schnauzer darted between the boxes, sniffing at torn paper. Claire didn't know whose dog it was. She stepped over a cracked lamp and crouched. Her mother's jewelry was gone. Her mother's letters were gone. Even the cheap costume rings had been swept away. Then the dog nosed something near the wall. Claire reached down and lifted a heavy locket on a gold chain, its glass face spiderwebbed with cracks. Gems still glittered around the rim. The thief had touched it and left it. Worthless to them. They weren't after value. They were after proof. Claire closed her fist around the locket. Whoever broke in knew about the man too. She had to move faster now.