“That’s helpful,” Nico said.
“Mm,” Calliope agreed. “Jason is currently at a restaurant in the Pearl River District. Frankie is…at the gym.”
“Can you send us—” Nico started.
“Already done, Pop Tarts. Already done.”
“Thank you, Calliope,” Nico said in a sing-song voice.
They didn’t even need Calliope’s help breaking into Jason’s place. He left the back door unlocked and his alarm deactivated. They slipped off their shoes so as not to track any muddy shoe prints onto his tile, then entered through the sliding glass door. Inside was silent. Not so much as a squeaky ceiling fan. Mal hadn’t expected to find a smoking gun or anything, but Jason’s condo looked…sterile.
“This almost feels insulting,” Nico said in a stage-whisper. “Like, imagine being a career criminal and still being cocky enough to leave your door open and your alarm off. It’s like you want someone to break into your house. You know?”
Mal huffed out a laugh. “Are you saying he was asking for it, Fidget?”
Nico shrugged.
They split at the door, Nico heading upstairs and Mal sticking with the lower floor. There was a stack of bills on the counter and several suspiciously old takeout containers in the fridge, but other than that, it was clean. Like hotel room levels of cleanliness. Maybe he had a housekeeper?
The whole place was…beige. There was no personality to it at all. No pictures, no paintings, not even a magazine on the coffee table. Maybe Jason spent too much time chasing after his brother to bother making a home there?
Mal was almost positive that Leo was the rat and Jason was the ox. That left Frankie as the pig. It fit. But that didn’t mean Jason was squeaky clean. There were no innocents in this scenario. The idea of having to hand over Frankie to the Dai Lo made Mal’s skin feel too tight. Didn’t they deserve to punish them? Amy was the offended party. Shouldn’t it be her choice?
Mal shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. He checked every closet and cabinet, half-hoping he’d find something to give them any indication of what had happened to Amy and half-afraid whatever he found might confirm some grim outcome. He had no reason to suspect Jason of anything other than enabling his brother, but the overwhelming quiet of the place set his teeth on edge.
He thought about their apartment. It was hard to fit a lot of personality into a shoebox-size place, but Shiloh had tried. They had throw pillows on the couch and their kitchen canisters matched. They had scented candles and pictures of themselves and their friends strewn about the place. Mal and Nico’s room was filled with shelves full of anime and manga, while Shiloh and Levi’s was full of K-pop and vintage video games. It looked like someone lived there.
This place just looked like a really boring AirBnB.
Mal returned to the stack of bills. Water bill. Electric bill. Junk mail. Election stuff.
Nico bounded down the stairs two at a time. “This guy is a dud. Minimal products in his bathroom, only the essentials in his closet. Major snoozefest. Maybe we should have started with the murdery brother? He’s way more likely to be our bad guy anyway.”
They were on the same page about that at least.
“Maybe he just didn’t want to get too comfortable?” Mal posited. “The Dai Lo did say that they weren’t supposed to stay long. And Lisa said Jason and Frankie only came for Leo’s sake. It’s not that weird that he might pack light.”
“Did you find anything?” Nico asked, opening cabinets in the kitchen.
He was about to say no when he saw it. A Visa bill. “Uh, he has a credit card statement. Should I open it?”
“Yeah, maybe he charged something that could help.” Nico moved closer. “It’s kind of fucked that he can get a credit card after being here for six months, but I can’t get one living here my entire life.”
Mal huffed a laugh. “That’s because credit card companies only care about dollar signs. Being a gangster pays better than being a full-time student.”
Nico nodded, then his eyes went wide. “Guess I won’t be that much longer. Oh, God. I’m gonna have to get a job. I won’t be able to afford college anymore.”
Mal gave his ass a sympathetic squeeze. “Well, luckily for you, that lady at the bakery loved you. Also, if there’s any benefit to being broke, it’s scholarships. But, honestly, is college really for you, Fidget? You learn better by doing.”
Nico gnawed on his lip. “Do you think she’d really give me a job?”
“Yes, in a heartbeat.”
“But maybe I shouldn’t,” he said as Mal tore open the envelope. “My blood will basically turn into syrup.”
Mal gave him a dark smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll just add a dessert clause to your rules.”
“Rules?” Nico asked, then blushed. “Oh, right.”
