Chapter 10
Isat silently in the passenger seat of Bastian’s truck as the city rose around us.
Seeing Professor Miller’s house had been difficult.
I needed another hot shower, fresh clothes, and my bed, which was why I couldn’t wait to get home.
There was a part of me that panicked—wondering if Luke had found me at the club, could he find my home too?
But the other part of me, the one desperate for comfort, brushed it aside.
I blew out a breath, which earned a glance from Bastian. At least I had the night off. I was almost relieved that we’d canceled girls night—
Oh, shit! My throat tightened. “Bastian,” I croaked, “I need my phone back. Where is it?”
Had Vivi tried to contact me? The real Vivi, not some voice that sounded like her from some unknown number. I didn’t want her worried.
Bastian sighed. My phone appeared in his hand as he dropped it into my lap. I tapped the screen but nothing happened. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” I looked up at him, jaw clenched. “You couldn’t keep it charged when you put it, wherever? It’s dead.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Not my problem.”
I scoffed. “Ridiculous. Whatever. Please, tell me you have a charger in here.”
He reached into the center console, keeping his eyes on the road. A charging cord materialized. Exasperated, I plugged my phone in, waiting for enough juice to turn it on.
Another phone rang and I glanced up. The dash screen illuminated with an incoming call and a name. Christian Morris. Beneath it, in parenthesis, was Walton Bureau of Investigation.
I stared at the contact.
Bastian grabbed his phone from the dock and answered, switching it off bluetooth. Clearly he didn’t want me eavesdropping. “What do you have for me? ”
I could just barely make out the voice on the other end, but not the words. Bastian stiffened, going rigid. His eyes darted toward me, then back to the road.
“Fuck. Right… Right… Okay…. All right.”
Another long hesitation and then—
“Yeah, she’s actually with me. We’re on our way. ETA puts us at ten. Yep… Okay. Hang tight.” He hung up and set the phone back on its mount.
His face was a mask. Impossible to read.
Meanwhile, a sour taste filled my mouth. “Who was that?” Silence stretched between us. When he still didn’t speak, I glanced over. “Bastian!”
A muscle in his jaw feathered. “Walton PD just called in the WBI for a case. New homicide reported in West Cross. At the Glenneg Apartment Complex.”
“But that’s…” My fingers turned to ice. I clenched them together and buried them in my lap, phone forgotten, and stared out the windshield, eyes blurring. Around us, the city slid by, but inside my head, every thought went silent except one. Something had happened in my apartment building.
Bastian’s exhale was drawn out. “Let’s just get there and see what’s going on.”
“What did they say?” I asked, half afraid to hear it.
“You sure you want to know?”
My swallow was practically audible. No, of course I wasn’t sure. “I’d like to be mentally prepared for the shitstorm we’re about to walk into.”
He nodded. “Your apartment was broken into. Trashed, by the sound of it. They only found out because one of your neighbors didn’t show up for work this morning.”
“What?!” I gasped. He’d said homicide. “Who?” I whispered.
“Peter Gains? You know him?”
A cold ball of sick dread dropped into my stomach. “Oh, my God.”
“I take it that’s a yes.”
“He… He was this… He was just a sweet old man! How… What… Someone did this? How do they know it has anything to do with my apartment? Wait, do they think it was me, since I was his neighbor? I was with you all night. You can vouch for me, right? Am I going to be arrested? Is that why your—why Christian—asked about me? You told him I was with you—”
“Elle, relax.” It was the first time he’d called me that and it made me freeze.
I’d forgotten how much I missed hearing it.
“There aren’t a lot of details yet, from the sound of it.
WBI got called because the scorch marks around the body look similar to the ones they found around Miller…
” He trailed off, then his brow furrowed.
“Well, it would seem that this absolves you completely. If both people were killed the same way, and you were with me during one of the incidents, then it’s doubtful you killed Professor Miller. ”
I screeched in fury and punched him in the arm, hard. The wheel jerked. “Are you fucking kidding me?! I told you I didn't kill her!”
“Yes, well, I don’t rule out a suspect completely unless I have solid evidence that proves otherwise.”
“Ugh. You are so…Ugh!”
The corner of his mouth twitched.
“It’s not funny!” I roared.
“Good thing you like me, sugar, because that actually hurt.”
“I don’t like you! And you’re lucky I’m not one of those lambs you mentioned. Because then I would absolutely fucking rip your face off right now.”
“Good thing.”
I pressed my lips together, turning to face forward again, only so I didn’t have to look at his dumb stupid ridiculous face anymore. I couldn’t believe him—this. That he carried even a shred of suspicion toward me after last night and this morning.
My anger quickly abated, though.
Peter Gains was…dead. It didn’t feel real. I thought about all the cookies I’d baked him. Thought about his cute cat I borrowed when I needed something to cuddle. Oh, shit. I still needed to call Vivi—to tell her.
I picked up my phone. A hand shot out and wrapped around mine, around my phone. “I wouldn’t do that right now. This is a federal investigation. You should refrain from contacting anyone, especially on this phone. If it’s hacked or tracked, and even if it isn’t…”
His words slid right out of my mind. I looked down at his hand, covering mine. Gaped at it like an idiot. At the warmth that seeped through his skin. The way it instantly calmed me to have his touch.
He sighed, then squeezed. When he pulled away, I instantly missed his touch.
“Just hang tight, sugar. We’ll figure things out.” His voice was softer this time. Maybe he could see the tears blurring my eyes. Or sense my growing distress.
“What did they do to my apartment?” I whispered. Only just now remembering he’d mentioned that it was trashed.
He didn’t answer.
My breaths were shaky as I climbed out of Bastian’s truck.
The entire street had been closed off, only letting cleared personnel in or out.
Bastian had flashed some sort of identification that got us through.
I shut the door behind me and gaped at the swarm of uniformed people going in and out of Glenneg Complex, my six-story apartment flat in the heart of West Cross.
Two blocks down, if I squinted, I could make out the sign for Awake Coffee.
“Here, put this on.” Bastian draped a heavy leather jacket around my shoulders, probably summoned from thin air. It smelled like him, like the cologne he wore, which immediately comforted my nerves. I pulled it around me and clenched it in my fists, using it as an anchor.
“Rose?” A voice to my right had me spinning. In a huddle of wide-eyed watchers, Candice was staring at me.
The others nearby heard my name and turned. I was acquainted with about half the people in my apartment building. We did mixers on the roof sometimes, that sort of thing. “Thank God you’re okay,” Candice said, rushing over. She threw her arms around me and pulled me tight.
“Hey, Candice. I’m good,” I mumbled into her shoulder. She was on the taller side, and curvy. “Vivi’s out of town so she’s fine, too,” I added.
Candice lived on the floor below ours.
“I heard someone moving around upstairs,” she explained.
“I thought you’d come home from work—pissed off or something, by the sound of all the destruction happening.
Didn’t put two and two together. I should have texted you.
” That wouldn’t have made any difference, but I didn’t say so.
“They’re saying Peter was murdered,” she whispered, holding my shoulders to inspect me.
I felt Bastian hovering nearby, heard the hushed murmur of his voice talking to someone.
“Can you believe it? In our own apartment building? I thought West Cross was supposed to be safe.” Her rich beige skin was pale, dark eyes searching mine.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you wanted to move, though.
After this, after what happened to your…
” She trailed off, eyes darting behind me and widening briefly.
A large, heavy hand fell comfortably on my shoulder.
“Wow…” she whispered as she took in Bastian. A flush rose to her cheeks. “Who’s your friend?”
“Oh, right. Candice, Bastian. Bastian, Candice.” I turned to better see him, dislodging his hand in the process. “Candice lives in the apartment below mine.”
“I see.” Bastian’s eyes narrowed, calculating. “Did you already give your statement?”
“Yep,” she nodded, squaring her shoulders. “Told them what I told Rose. Thought she’d come home pissed, was banging around and making a ruckus upstairs about three in the morning. Woke my ass up. Should have texted her, but figured she’d had a rough night…working at Vortex and all.”
Bastian made a humming noise in the back of his throat, then nodded. Leaning close, too close, his lips brushed the shell of my ear and he spoke in a low voice. “You’ve been given clearance to enter. You ready?”
I shivered. But not because I was afraid of what came next. I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “Right. Let’s go.”
We set off, entering through the front doors and taking the elevator to the sixth floor.
I shared this floor with Peter, who was across the hall.
I couldn’t help but wonder, was he the intended target, and my apartment merely collateral?
Or was my apartment the target all along, and poor Peter had gotten in the way?