Chapter 25 Reid
TWENTY-FIVE
Reid
“You didn’t have to come,” Hazel said, pushing open the gate to her apartment. It got stuck on a pile of snow, but she shoved it until we could squeeze into the courtyard.
“Like I was going to let you go alone.”
After the lavish breakfast spread my mom presented us with at eight a.m., Hazel announced that she had some errands to run today. A normal person would have let her go by herself—told her to enjoy her day, and that I’d see her later.
If it had been a different snowy Saturday and Hazel wasn’t in my life, I might find myself spending the day at my computer, lost in a chat about some cold case.
But that didn’t appeal to me as much today.
She could have said her errand was to buy shampoo at the drugstore or wait in line at the DMV and I still would have wanted to tag along.
But when she’d casually mentioned that her errand involved dropping by her apartment to grab a few things, there was no way in hell I was staying behind.
Mostly because I didn’t like her hanging around there alone, given everything, but I did have an ulterior motive.
The neighbor. Mrs. Edenbury.
At this point, she was still a shaky suspect on a dwindling list of options.
I had nothing to go on except for the fact that she could have easily committed the crime.
It was painfully obvious at this stage that I was an amateur chasing an amateur.
My group hadn’t come up with any new theories either; we were a lot more used to working with evidence that someone else had already collected.
Trying to piece everything together from scratch was hard as hell.
Hazel unlocked the door to her hallway and led us in. The entire time she fiddled with the lock on her apartment, I stared at Mrs. Edenbury’s door. Was she there? Sleeping?
“She usually does something with her church group on weekends.”
“Huh?” I jerked my gaze back to Hazel, who had her door propped open.
“She’ll probably be leaving soon,” she said, checking her phone.
“We should try to catch her.” I slid in behind Hazel and let the door swing shut behind me.
She breezed through the cramped space to her bedroom.
“Did your stuff expand since we were last here?” I wedged myself past the giant clock and followed her.
“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.” Her tone implied I was anything but.
I propped myself in the doorway, watching her sift through dresser drawers.
This was my first time seeing her bedroom.
It matched the rest of her space perfectly, every wall covered in pictures, shelves, or knickknacks.
Her curtains looked straight out of the seventies.
An old landline phone sitting on her dresser didn’t even appear to have a cord attached to it.
The bed was ridiculously high, on an iron bedframe.
Like, ridiculously high. It nearly came up to my hip.
“Do you have a stepstool for this thing?” I patted the handmade, multi-colored quilt on her bed.
“Nope,” she said, before turning away from the dresser she was rummaging through and launching herself at the bed. She had to use both arms to hoist herself up but then she was on, bouncing on the plush mattress.
“If you need a running start, the bed is too high,” I said.
She laughed. “I disagree. It keeps me spry.”
“You shouldn’t have to do a track and field event every night before bed.”
“That’s part of the fun.” She twisted her finger in a loose thread. “I begged for this bedframe for my sixteenth birthday. I thought it looked Parisian.”
“Much like the rest of your décor,” I said sarcastically, nodding toward the beat-up poster of a popular nineties boy band near my left shoulder.
“Eclectic, Reid. Learn the word. Love the word.”
Smirking, I set my palms on her bed and hoisted myself up so that we were next to each other. My entire body immediately sank into the mattress.
“This is too soft.”
“Too high. Too soft. Too much personality.” Hazel laughed while mocking my voice. I pinched her side, and she let out a small squeal before bursting into laughter again.
“I’m serious,” I said. “This can’t be good for your back.”
“I so appreciate your concern for my spinal health.” She batted her eyelashes at me, and I moved my head to steal a kiss. It happened so suddenly, I didn’t even question it. But when I pulled away, she blinked a few times, the blush apparent on her cheeks.
For a second, I doubted myself. Were we not at the level of stolen kisses yet? But when I saw her bite her lip to keep from smiling any wider, I knew she was feeling just as giddy about whatever was brewing between us as I was.
“Okay, let me get what I came here for.” She hoisted herself toward the edge of the bed. It was almost comical how she had to slide off. Back at the dresser, she continued pulling clothes out of a drawer that was packed to the brim.
I slid off the bed and joined her, carefully watching her selections.
“I like that one,” I said. She’d just pulled out a vintage-looking sweatshirt that said Key Ridge Ski Resort.
“Me too,” she held it close to her. “It was Gran’s. She went there a million years ago.”
“Did you two go on many vacations?”
She stuffed the sweatshirt into a tote bag she’d taken off the back of her door, which was crammed with a variety of items hanging off hooks. “Not really. Unless you count the indoor water park in Ohio.”
“Oh, that definitely counts. I love that place.”
“We should go some time.” Her eyes twinkled as she looked up at me. I loved that look. Hazel wasn’t meant to be sad. Ever. She was meant to always have this look about her, the one with the bright eyes and the fizzy giggles.
She pulled out another one and I squinted to read the text.
“Haven High School Wrestling Championship?” I looked from the piece of clothing to her with raised eyebrows.
“It was Paul’s,” she admitted.
“And you still have it?”
“It’s the perfect oversize fit. Plus, he took my favorite sweatshirt and loaned it to his friend, who claimed to have lost it.” She rolled her eyes and put air quotes around lost it. “It was tie-dye and soft, and I miss it every day. So, it’s only fair I have this.”
Yeah, I didn’t love that. Half-jokingly, I folded up Paul’s sweatshirt and set it back in the top drawer.
“Hey.” She laughed and tried to snatch it back.
“I don’t think you need that one,” I said, still trying to stuff it back into the drawer.
“But it’s comfortable,” she argued.
“I’ll get you a new sweatshirt.”
“But old ones are the best. They need to have that worn-in feel.”
“You can have one of mine.”
“Seriously?” She paused, considering it.
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
“Any one you want.”
“What if it’s your favorite?” she asked, smirking up at me.
“I’d rather hand over every sweatshirt I’ve ever owned than see you walking around my living room in that.”
She scrunched her nose and shook her head, not fighting me when I pressed the piece of clothing back into the drawer before sliding it closed.
“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” she teased through a smile before grabbing a few more items.
I didn’t bother correcting her. I was a little jealous.
Not in that over-the-top, possessive way, but in the way where the only clothes I wanted to see Hazel in were my own.
This was the honeymoon phase. The couldn’t-get-enough-of-each-other stage.
Every second felt like something to soak in, not waste thinking about her stupid ex.
Immature? Probably. But I hadn’t felt like this in a long time.
Movement outside the window caught my eye. An older lady slid into the driver’s side of a car parked across the street. I could add the fact that this apartment had no secure parking garage to my list of grievances with the place. I did not want Hazel living here, even after all this was over.
“Is that…” I raced to the window. Hazel followed me, banging her hip on her bedframe in her haste.
“Shit,” she muttered, rubbing her side. “What is it?”
“Mrs. Edenbury.” I pointed.
Her eyes scanned until they landed on the car. “Yep, that’s her car. Must be off to church.”
“Hurry, let’s see if we can catch her.”
I was already halfway out of Hazel’s apartment, moving fast, but by the time I’d flung open the door to the courtyard, it was too late. The white sedan had already pulled away from the curb, taillights glowing as it disappeared down the street. I had no chance of catching up.
Back in the hallway Hazel wore an amused expression.
“What exactly was your plan? Ask her outright if she has Vermont?”
I dragged a hand over my face, pulse racing. I didn’t know what my plan had been exactly, but I was starting to get desperate.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
She giggled. “You know you’re turning into me, right? A week ago, I would have been the one chasing down a suspect.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” I placed a hand on the wall by her head, unapologetically gazing down at her. The way her bright eyes shone back at me made my chest tighten.
I was about to bend down and steal another kiss when Mrs. Edenbury’s door caught my eye. It didn’t look quite right. Off center somehow.
Straightening, I took a step toward it. Was that a crack? Before thinking too much about it, I closed the distance and pushed it.
It opened.
Hazel gasped and her head went on a swivel looking up and down the hall.
“Reid!” she hissed.
“What?” I asked innocently. “I just want to make sure she’s okay. She left her door unlocked.”
Hazel’s lips parted and her eyes went wide. “Who even are you right now?” she whispered. “I wouldn’t even suggest breaking and entering.”
I gave her a sheepish shrug, then waved her over with the kind of urgency that said please don’t make me explain this right now.
“It was open,” I whispered. But she was right. Who had I become? Just waltzing into a stranger’s apartment like it was nothing, no hesitation, no thought about how bad an idea it could be?