Zayn stood up as well and crossed his arms as he studied her.“My mother said you were working in the security office last night.”
“Yeah.”
“What’s going on?”
The blush vanished, but that sparkle in her eyes blazed even brighter.His pulse kicked.So did everything else.God, it had been forever since they’d touched—reallytouched—but right now, he was more interested in what had lit that fire in her.
“I told you weeks ago—I think Olivia was murdered.”
“You said the police ruled it an accident.”
“They were wrong,” she said flatly.Then she turned, grabbed her laptop from the side table where she’d left it a moment ago, and pulled it open with purpose.A few keystrokes later, an article filled the screen.A woman’s smiling face stared back at them.
“This is Lucy.She was on my research team,” Azlyn explained, her voice tight.“She helped produce more than half the stories Olivia and I aired.”
Zayn leaned over her shoulder, eyes narrowing.Something told him this wasn’t just a hunch anymore.
“And she died on a hiking trip?”Zayn asked, squinting at the article.
Azlyn snorted.“Lucy hated hiking.She hated everything about the outdoors.”
“Everything?”he repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Everything,” she confirmed with a grin.“We used to tease her nonstop.But she’d just sip her coffee and say she’d be curled up under a blanket with cocoa while the rest of us were out there ‘deliberately sweating.’Her words, not mine.”
Zayn laughed under his breath.“Can’t say I blame her.”
“Right?I mean, I’m not exactly racing to climb mountains myself.But Lucy?She’d have rather licked a subway pole than willingly lace up a pair of trail shoes.And we were in Chicago.It’s not like there are hiking trails on every corner.Still, a few people on our team were into the whole nature-is-healing thing.They’d go to Colorado or Pennsylvania and come back with sunburns and smugness.”
Zayn’s eyes narrowed.“So how the hell does someone like that die on a hiking trail in Chicago?”
Azlyn shifted slightly, her whole body buzzing with barely restrained energy.“Exactly!That’s what didn’t sit right.She hated bugs—mosquitoes were her nemesis.And she never wore anything but heels or ballet flats, unless she was at home in fuzzy socks.”
Azlyn set the laptop back on the table as she stood up and began pacing, her brain clearly spinning.“But the police just filed it as a tragic hiking accident.Their report says that she fell down a hill and hit her head on a rock, end of story.Except… I know Lucy.She wouldn’t have been on that trail in the first place.”
Zayn’s curiosity piqued.“So you decided to… what?Ask more questions?”
Azlyn looked up, deadpan.“I hacked the police database.”
He blinked.“Of course you did.”
She continued without missing a beat.“She was wearing cute capri pants and open-toed sandals.Sandals, Zayn.Who wears sandals on a hiking trip?”
“No one with survival instincts,” he said, settling in to watch her pace—and admiring the view while he was at it.Damn, he missed this version of her.Focused.Fierce.Utterly alive.And yes, he missed her body pressed against his in the dark, her cold nose against his neck after sex, the way she tucked herself in like she belonged there.Because she had.
“Exactly!”she cried, spinning toward him.“So I logged into her email.”
“You have all your coworkers’ passwords?”
She gave him a look.“Of course not.But I figured out her password.”
Zayn lifted both eyebrows.
“Her password wasmister snuggles, no caps, no spaces,” she added, with a shrug.
“I feel like I shouldn’t ask...but who’s Mister Snuggles?”
“Her teddy bear.Her grandmother gave it to her when she was born.He lives on a shelf now, but she still kissed his head before she left the apartment.Every.Single.Day.”
