Chapter 21 Geneva
GENEVA
THE STERILE HUM OF FLUORESCENT LIGHTS DOES NOTHING TO EASE the mild throbbing in my skull as I step inside the office building. The familiar scents of burnt coffee and stale paper hit me instantly, grounding me in the normalcy of my job. Or at least, what used to feel normal.
Detective Allen spots me the moment I step inside. His assessing gaze sweeps over me, missing nothing. His usual casual stance stiffens slightly, his arms crossing over his chest.
“Are you okay, Gen? You look tired,” he greets me, though there’s a thread of genuine concern beneath the gruffness.
I sigh. “Good morning to you too, Detective.”
He studies me for a beat longer, and his gaze softens. “Sorry about that. Rough night?”
I shift my bag onto my shoulder, adjusting the strap to avoid looking at him.
Rough night? If that’s what you call unraveling a conspiracy that somehow involves professional mercenaries, a fixer with too much power, and a serial killer who gets possessive every time I breathe too far out of his reach—then sure.
“Just didn’t sleep well,” I say. “Nothing new.”
Allen’s expression doesn’t change. He’s one of the few people in this building who actually listens when I talk. And I can tell he doesn’t believe me. But thankfully, he doesn’t pry.
“I have something for you,” he says. “It’s a case that I wanted your take on as soon as possible.”
I follow him toward his cluttered workspace, where a few open files are scattered between coffee rings and a half-eaten bagel. “What am I looking at?” I ask, flipping through the first page.
“Double homicide.” Allen exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Pretty brutal. Whoever did this was in and out, professional-like.”
My stomach twists, my fingers stilling on the page. The description is too familiar to my parents’. I swallow hard, pushing past the unease climbing up my throat. “You think it was a hit?”
He shrugs, but his expression is grim. “Maybe. No known enemies, no debts that we can find. But something about it doesn’t sit right with me.”
I force myself to nod, focusing on the details instead of the melancholy that wants to take root. “Where were the bodies found?”
“Victims’ apartment, downtown. The door was locked from the inside.”
I glance at him. “That’s not an area known for this type of crime.”
Allen nods. “Exactly.”
“Give me a couple hours and I’ll have this back to you.”
“Thanks, Gen.”
He falls into step beside me as I head toward my office, his usual easygoing demeanor replaced with something heavier. The rigidity in his stride indicates he’s got something to say but is hesitant to tell me.
The room buzzes around us, detectives and officers moving between desks, phones ringing in the background, conversations overlapping in a steady drone of controlled chaos.
It all fades as we reach my office. Allen pushes the door open, waits for me to step inside, then follows and shuts it behind him.
My pulse kicks up. I set my bag down on my desk, crossing my arms as I turn to face him. “You’re hovering, Detective.”
Allen doesn’t smile like he usually does.
Instead, he exhales, running a hand over the back of his head before leaning against the door.
“I’ve been worried about you.” He flicks his gaze over my fading bruise and the nearly healed cut on my head.
“What happened was serious. I really think you should take more than one day off from work.”
I wave a hand in dismissal. “I’m fine. Having something to keep me busy will be good for me.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you have weeks’ worth of PTO that you can use. Hell, if you need more time than that, just say the word.”
“Thank you, Allen.” I give him a smile. “I really appreciate that. If anything changes, I’ll let you know.”
He eyes me, searching for any hint of doubt on my end. Finding none, he nods. “There’s one more thing.”
Here we go.
“We haven’t found any trace of Skinner.”
I keep my expression neutral although my heart beats faster. “What do you mean?”
“I mean nothing. No body, no confirmed sightings, no leads. One minute, the guy’s gunning for you, the next? He fucking vanishes.”
That’s because Ghost killed him.
I take a deep breath. “Maybe he’s laying low? Skinner knows law enforcement will be looking for him.”
The detective shakes his head. “Guys like him don’t run, Gen. They regroup. We should’ve found something by now. A body. A lead. Something.” He watches me carefully. “Is there anything he said to you that might help me find him?”
I meet Allen’s stare head-on. “No.”
He studies me for a moment longer, then curses under his breath. “If he turns up, you call me. No hero shit. Promise me.”
I nod, gripping the edge of my desk to keep my hands steady. “I will.”
Allen doesn’t leave. Instead, he lets go of the doorknob and turns back to me, his expression unreadable. Something in his posture shifts, and I brace myself.
“There’s something else,” he says slowly.
I don’t move. “Okay.”
Allen studies me for a beat, then sighs, like he’s debating how much he should actually tell me. “Ghost’s gone.”
“Gone?”
He nods, crossing his arms. “Escaped.”
“How?” I ask, keeping my voice even.
Allen’s jaw ticks. “We don’t know yet. It wasn’t exactly an explosive breakout. No alarms. No missing guards. One day he’s in his cell, the next? Poof. That asshole really is a ghost.”
I force myself to frown like this is the first time I’m hearing about it. “And you’re just telling me now?”
“I didn’t want to worry you. Especially not when you were recovering. But to be frank, we don’t have shit, and this is Ghost we’re talking about. It’s only a matter of time until we find a trail of bodies.”
I nod slowly, keeping my grip on my desk so he doesn’t notice that I’m shaking.
Allen exhales, rubbing his temples. “Look, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me.”
I swallow hard. “Okay.”
“Has he contacted you?”
“No.”
Allen watches me a second too long for comfort. “And you’d tell me if he did?”
I nod. “Of course.”
It’s easier than I expected to lie to his face.
He finally sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “If you see or hear anything, you call me first. Understand?”
I nod again, but my heart is hammering against my ribs, paining me.
Ghost didn’t escape from prison. He left to save me. And now I have to pretend like I don’t already know exactly where he is.
In my bed.