Chapter 9 - Hazel
NINE
Hazel
“Your hair,” Reid said, as I pulled down the handle on the front gate and stepped aside so that he could slip by.
“What do you think?” I asked, fluffing out my midnight-blue choppy layers.
Jackson, it turned out, did not believe in subtle change.
Thankfully, he hadn’t lopped it all off.
He had, however, insisted on curtain bangs that hung in my eyes unless properly styled, which annoyed me to no end.
Overall, though, I appreciated the change.
It was nice to look in the mirror and see a different reflection.
My old one had been growing duller each time I caught sight of her.
“It suits you,” Reid said, taking me in from behind his black-rimmed glasses. His thick gray peacoat looked so warm I wanted to tuck right into it. The weather channel had threatened snow, but right now it was just dark, dreary, and cold.
“Why are you in a t-shirt?” he asked, sizing up the rest of me after the distraction of my new hair wore off.
“Because I live literally right there.” I pointed to my entrance.
When I saw his car pull up, I’d rushed out in nothing but an old band t-shirt and leggings.
Honestly, he was lucky I was wearing pants.
They were usually the first thing to go anytime I was alone inside the confines of my small apartment.
“You’re going to freeze to death.” He placed a hand between my shoulder blades and guided me back to my door.
“The office is that way.” I pointed behind me.
“And we’ll go once you’re properly dressed.” He waited for me to open the glass-paned wood door that led to my hallway.
“Bossy,” I mumbled, slipping the key into the lock and shoving open the door. It was warped and didn’t quite fit into its frame anymore, so I had to really shove it every time.
“It’s this one,” I said, pointing to the first door on the right. I hadn’t bothered locking it, so I nudged it open with one hand and waited for him to go in first. When he didn’t, I looked up to find him staring down at me with raised eyebrows.
“Unlocked?” he questioned.
“I was right outside.”
He gave his head a small shake and placed a hand on his forehead. “Are you serious right now?”
I sighed and went inside first. “What? It’s a safe area.”
“Except for the whole stalker-slash-cat-thief situation.”
“Right. Except that.” I winked and shot him a smile that he didn’t reciprocate.
Reid was inside now, standing on my crocheted doormat, scanning my apartment with a slow, deliberate sweep of his head.
“This is the place,” I said, when he remained silent.
“This is…wow,” was all he said.
I grabbed a sweatshirt that I had abandoned on my yellowy-orangey velvet sofa earlier and pulled it on. “Too eclectic for you?” I guessed.
“It’s very…you.”
I chose to take that as a compliment, even though Reid didn’t know me all that well—and even though it probably wasn’t a compliment.
What did he know about me, aside from the fact that my life was a mess?
That didn’t exactly scream “great interior design taste.” But whatever. He was right. This place was me.
Reid couldn’t take his eyes off the massive grandfather clock that separated my kitchen and living room. Technically, it was placed in the middle of what should be an open floorplan, but I liked it there.
“This has no hands,” he pointed out.
I shrugged. “It came that way.”
He balked. “But…it’s a clock…with no hands. What purpose does it serve?”
“Um, it looks cool?” I offered. “And who uses a clock to tell time anyway?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Plenty of people.”
I waved him off. “I inherited a lot of stuff when my grandma moved into assisted living,” I explained.
“I can see that.” His attention was now trained on a large antique mirror propped up next to the fireplace.
I tried to take in the place from his perspective.
Knickknacks invaded every inch, taking over any empty space like they’d won a battle.
But I liked it that way. It was cozy. Most of all, it reminded me of her and the house I’d grown up in.
Maybe some people rejected memories when they lost loved ones, got rid of things instead of hanging onto them because thinking about what was lost was too painful.
Not me. The present was what was painful.
These reminded me of when times were better.
Not necessarily simpler—we’d always been struggling with money, or something or other—but more…
full. Gran really knew how to fill up a life.
“You ready?” I asked, once I pulled the sweatshirt over my head. “I’m eighty-two percent sure the office is only occupied until noon.”
He took one look at me and said, “Coat.”
My eyes rolled to the ceiling, but I walked over and pulled open my front closet, grabbing my puffy blue jacket with one hand and holding the rest of the over-stuffed contents in one place with my other. I pulled hard and the puffer jacket broke free from the cluster.
I slipped it on. “Happy?”
“Thrilled,” he deadpanned. “Now, what’s the plan? Do you know who works in there?” Reid followed me out of my apartment and into the courtyard—after insisting I lock up, of course.
“I think it rotates, but it’s usually this older guy. I’ve had to pick up a package or two from there before.” When we reached the entrance to the small office, I stood on my tiptoes to peer into the window. Reid stole a glance too, before taking me by the arm and pulling me a step away.
“Okay, gameplan.” He rubbed his hands together.
My brain couldn’t help but pause on how adorably into-this he looked.
“I’m thinking we lead with the fact that your cat was stolen by a nonresident.
Tell them that we’ve filed a police report and everything.
They don’t need to know that the police have been zero help.
Hopefully, if they think we’ve got law enforcement involved, they’ll give us the footage without asking any follow-up questions or waiting for a formal request.” There was a distinct twinkle in his eye.
For someone who had resisted the stakeout so hard, he was absolutely eating this up.
“You love this,” I said, biting back a smile.
Reid’s lips parted before he cleared his throat. “What? Uh, no. I don’t know. I guess. I’m used to doing this kind of thing from behind an e-mail address.”
“Not as thrilling?” I asked.
“I mean, my heart is racing a little.”
“As much as the other morning?”
His jaw tensed. “No more stakeouts, Hazel. This is just a simple request, nothing fancy. If we act like it’s no big deal and we’re expecting him to hand the footage over with zero argument, maybe he’ll comply.”
“So, nonchalant. Got it.”
“Can you do nonchalant?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“Yes, thank you very much. I was just a little heated the other day.”
He smirked down at me and shook his head.
A rush of something crept into my chest. He didn’t make me feel ashamed for my outburst, not even for a second.
While his disapproval was evident, he’d done nothing except make a joke or two.
And despite having every reason to be embarrassed, he wasn’t.
He was still here. Invested. Acting like he cared.
Appreciation overwhelmed me. “Thanks for doing this,” I said.
His eyes widened. “Uh, no problem. I want to help.”
And I believed him. Which might not seem like a big deal, but in that moment, it felt important.
“You ready?” I asked.
“Let’s do it.”
I led the way, pushing open the door, Reid right on my tail.
The office was only big enough to fit a desk and a rickety wooden bookshelf that looked like it had been assembled without anyone reading the directions in full.
A few packages lay forgotten in the corner.
A man sat behind the computer, lounging back in his chair, scrolling on his phone.
I’d seen him a few times before. He was maybe fifty, with salt and pepper hair.
He jerked up when he noticed us and set his phone face down on the desk.
“Hi,” I said sweetly, putting on my best charming smile like I was suiting up for battle. “We just had a quick question.”
Reid nudged me in the back. Right, don’t ask. Tell.
“Um, I mean, we just need something. It shouldn’t take long.”
“What can I help you with?” he asked.
“See, I actually had something of mine stolen recently. From the shared courtyard,” I started.
“And we’re in the middle of a police investigation,” Reid continued. “Her cat was taken from right out front. Thankfully, we noticed you have cameras set up that record the exact place the crime took place.”
The man’s forehead scrunched as he tipped back in his chair to look out the window. “Stolen? How do you know the cat didn’t run away?” he asked.
Man, I was really getting tired of that question.
“Hazel here has received some threatening messages from the person who stole him.” Reid placed an arm around my shoulder. I tried to ignore the zing that went through my entire body.
He frowned. “Shoot, I’m sorry about that. I hadn’t heard.”
“Right—” I squinted to read the name plate on the desk. “Mason. It’s awful,” I said. “But we need to get the footage from last Thursday morning, around seven a.m.”
Eagerness seeped into my voice, I couldn’t help it. Mason’s wide eyes narrowed slowly as he looked between Reid and me.
“And you said there’s a police investigation?” he asked.
“Yep,” Reid said.
“Then why aren’t they here asking for the footage themselves?”
“They said it would be easier if I came in to ask. But they’d be happy to come down if you need them to.” Shit. Did I sound too hopeful? Was he buying this?
Mason eyed us for a second longer before letting out a long sigh, then gave a small shake of his head. I went completely still.
“We really aren’t supposed to give that footage out. I could get in trouble with the boss,” he said.