"Now that would be telling," Julian says with that smug smile that makes me want to hit him, but he's already disappeared into the passage.
I motion for Darian to let me go next, so he's behind me. Julian was right; the passageway is narrower than some of the others, and much longer, forcing us to walk single file. I have to fight back the urge to shove Darian right back out, and follow him myself.
I don't do so great with confined spaces.
Our footsteps are muffled, almost silent, along the off-cut carpeted floor of the passage. It bends and corners with the wallsof the Manor and our phones provide the only light. I glance over my shoulder, checking on Darian. He seems fascinated rather than afraid, gazing at the walls and low ceiling with keen interest.
Good. The last thing I need is for him to panic.
Because then I would, too. The further we get, the tighter my throat feels and the less oxygen there seems to be in here. But that has to be my imagination. Right?
At last the passage seems to open up a little more, gives more room to move, so I could even spread my arms out a little if I wanted to. And then Julian stops so abruptly that I nearly crash into him.
"Well, look at this," he says, an odd note in his voice. He shines his phone flashlight down, illuminating a body sprawled on the floor.
Chops Lollo.
My arm shoots out to keep Darian from coming up behind me. "Go back," I tell him sharply. "Wait with the guard."
"What is it?" he croaks.
"It's our guy."
"Is he—okay?"
I shuffle Darian back a little in the passage. "No," I tell him softly. "He's not okay. So I need you to go wait with the guard. Can you do that for me?"
He doesn't argue any further, just turns and obeys, his light bobbing away. I turn back to the scene. Chops Lollo's lifeless body is crumpled on the floor before us, on his side. Blood stainsare visible on the ragged carpet beneath him, and blood soaks his chest as well.
Julian crouches down, peering at the corpse with detached interest. "At least two gunshots, both in the chest. Possibly a .45 caliber. He's been dead awhile. Since last night, at least."
"Move over," I say. "Let me take a look."
Julian obligingly shifts aside. I bend down, trying not to look at his face, the wide-open eyes… He almost looks surprised.
Well. Guess he was.
"Blood's dry," I say, touching it lightly with a knuckle.
"And rigor's setting in," Julian says helpfully, pointing out that he can't wiggle Chops' hand where it sticks out toward us as though reaching for help.
"Jesus," I mutter.
"We'd better move fast if we want to get him out of here. I fear Chops will prove quite unwieldy if we wait much longer."
But I'm still focusing on the details. "No signs of struggle. No defensive wounds."
"Indeed. It seems he was lured in here. Or forced. And then executed."
"Whoever it was, they used a silencer. No way the shots wouldn't be heard otherwise. So the killer came prepared." He must've somehow smuggled in something with his luggage, too. That's what makes me most angry about this.Everyonewho came in from the outside was searched, even Roxy Rochford.
So how the fuck did security miss a handgun and a silencer?
Julian and I stand again, very close in the passage, and look at each other. And then all at once, Julian drops the façade. No more playfulness or charm. Just sharp calculation. The predator lurking beneath the friendly act has surfaced.
"Another murder," Julian says, his cold, unblinking eyes on me rather than the body "How is that little quest of yours going, Raffi? The one that was supposed to solve everything and protect my favorite butler?"
"I've been a little fucking busy, Mr. C, what with one thing and another. But Darian's safety is my top priority. No harm will come to him. You have my word."
