Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
PETER
T he voice of my assistant, Melodie, came over the speaker of my office phone, startling me.
“Mr. Greenburg, you have someone here to see you. Can I send him back?”
I placed the sandwich back down on the paper it had been wrapped in, dusting off my shirt as I hurriedly chewed the bite of food in my mouth.
“Who is it?” I asked.
“Um, he says his name is Slater,” she said cautiously.
My stomach tightened, and I shoved my lunch into the drawer. “Yeah, send him in.” I’d nearly forgotten about his missed call the night before. Why had he shown up to the office? I checked my calendar as I waited, a thin sheen of sweat gathering at my brow.
Moments later, I heard two knocks on my door, and it opened before I’d had a chance to welcome him inside.
“Jim,” I said, holding out a hand to shake his. “It’s been too long, man.”
I spied the silver-capped tooth in his mouth as he grinned, a ball cap over his blond, buzz-cut hair. “Tell me about it.” He took a seat in front of my desk without an invitation, and I sat once again. “Hey, I tried to call you last night. You didn’t call me back…”
“You did?” I feigned ignorance. “Shoot, sorry. My daughter’s sick, and I’ve been all over the place. Is everything okay? Are we still on schedule with the Cameron project?” Jim never came to my office, but that wasn’t the only reason for the uneasy feeling in my chest. He was one of the best contractors on my team, but wherever Jim Slater went, trouble usually followed. Whatever he wanted, I had a feeling it wouldn’t be good.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s all good. I just need a favor.” He grasped his fist with his free hand, leaning back casually in his seat.
“S-sure. What is it?” My own hands balled into fists without volition.
He chuckled. “Don’t look so worried. It’s no big deal. I just need somewhere to stash a few things for a week or two.”
I tried to think. “Okay… You mean here at the office?”
“Nah, I was thinking in that room of yours.”
My stomach plummeted, my skin ice cold. We hadn’t spoken about the room since the day he finished building it.
“I don’t know, man. I don’t really let anyone in there.”
He looked away, nodding stoically. “Well, I’m not just anyone , am I?”
“You know what I mean. What is it you’re needing to store?”
His gaze fell to me again, his grin cocky. “It’s better if you don’t know, trust me. Just let me put a few things in there for a week or two, until things settle down. I’ll bring them by tonight.” He started to stand, but I reached out a hand.
“What? No! I already said you can’t. Maybe I could help you rent a storage unit or something—”
He waved off the suggestion. “Nah, your room is safer.”
“Look, Jim, you know I’d do anything to help you, but I can’t have anything going on with that room right now—”
“Because the cops are still sniffing around?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Wh-what are you talking about?”
“Ah, Peter, Peter, Peter…” He cracked his knuckles, sounding too much like a mob boss for my taste. He sucked air from behind bared teeth. “See, a few months ago, the cops came around asking questions about you. Apparently, they were following up on a missing persons case about a cop and his wife. Steven something…”
He had the name wrong, but I was too panicked to correct him. I knew the police had approached Beckman and Gina, and a few others around the office, to ask about me—much to my mortification—but I had no idea they’d reached out to our contractors, or anyone else outside of the office when Stefan and Illiana disappeared. They were covering all their bases, I knew, but that didn’t stop the experience from being awful.
“So?”
He went on. “So, they asked whether I thought you might’ve had anything to do with their disappearance, and I guess I could’ve mentioned the secret room we built for you to hide the bodies of your—”
“ Shut up, ” I whispered hurriedly, already out of my seat and leaning across the desk.
“What? I shouldn’t talk about your lair?” He pointed to the sign behind my desk. “Or should I say Lae Haer ?” He winked. “Nice touch, by the way. I almost didn’t catch it.”
“Jim, please…”
“Anyway, I heard on the news a few months later that they think he’s a rapist.” His brows shot up. “I guess you just never know about some people, hm?” His smile changed from playful and carefree to cruel and threatening in a matter of seconds.
“What are you doing? We swore we’d never tell anyone about…any of that.”
“Well, terms have changed,” he said with a shrug. “You know how it is.”
“What do you want?” My jaw was tight. Why had I ever trusted him? I’d known, even then, that it was a mistake. But I never thought he’d betray me. We held each other’s secrets, after all.
“To use the room. Like I told you.”
I sank back down in my chair. “For a few weeks?”
His head bounced from side to side, his chin wrinkling with an unbothered expression. “Maybe a month.”
“Jim, come on, what are you going to do? Rat me out? Honestly?”
“What’s the big deal? It’s a big enough room. I just need a corner. You do your thing. I won’t get in your way.”
“You can’t come and go in the room. I have a wife. Kids.” I didn’t mention that Ainsley knew about the room now. That didn’t matter. “I have to be discreet.”
He sucked his teeth. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to be discreet. You remember that well, don’t you?”
Chills ran over my arms. “Whatever. Fine. A few weeks. A month at most. Come over around midnight, once the kids are in bed, and I’ll store your stuff.”
He slapped the desk. “Attaboy. I knew you’d come around.” With that, he stood, running his fingers down the brim of his cap with a salute. “See you around, Peter.”
As he shut the door, dread filled me once again.
A favor was never just a favor with Jim.
I’d learned that the hard way once.