In a city this big, it's not hard for people to convince themselves that gunshots were the backfiring of a car.
All they had to do was play the part for a few seconds, and the suspicion faded. Even Brigit's neighbors were clueless, thankfully.
It almost seems too easy, but I know it's not.
We have a dead body and no idea why he felt the need to attack Brigit and try to frame me.
The garage attached to my townhome opens as we get closer, and I pull my car in, killing the engine. Closing the massive door behindus leaves Brigit and me alone in the barely there light of the car's interior.
She sighs, "Is this your place?"
With a nod, I unbuckle her seatbelt for her, grabbing her duffle from the back and tossing it over my shoulder.
She slides out of the car and stands frozen, watching me over the hood until I take her hand in mine and physically get her moving again. Opening the door, I ease her inside, immediately locking it behind us.
As the house comes to life, Brigit takes it in, silently walking through my home, looking around with cautious curiosity.
"Skyler said you don't have any kind of security here," she finally says, worry pulling at her already stressed features.
Shaking my head, I set her bag on a recliner, "That's been remedied."
A sad smile pulls at her lips, "He insisted?"
I nod, "He did." And he did. As soon as the place was livable again, Skyler demanded a full camera setup and backup locks. Though I'm not even convinced I was actually attacked here. While the place was a fucking disaster, what it wasn't was covered in my blood or anyone else's.
If I had to bet money on it, someone attacked me elsewhere and dropped me off on my front steps. At that point, the cops would have had enough reason to pick me up and let themselves into my house if they already suspected me of something nefarious.
"Come on, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping," I tell her. "Then you can explore to your hearts content."
She shakily nods, following closely behind me up the stairs. Almost every wall is bare, no art or warmth to bring her comfort. Her place and mine couldn't be more different. While hers was just as organized, she at least had thingstoorganize. All I have is a hidden office full of blackmail and a handful of virtually unused pieces of furniture.
I gesture to our left, "This is my room," before continuing on tothe second room up here, directly above the garage, with a window looking out onto the street. "And this can be yours."
I had the good sense to buy enough furnishings for both rooms when I was fixing this place back up. However, I did so with the intention of having it ready for the inevitable drunken nights when Skyler needs a place to crash.
So it's completely black and soulless; a floating bed frame with sheets and a blanket haphazardly put on, a single bedside drawer, and no dresser to be found.
But it's safe. It's clean. And it's close enough to me that if she needs anything, I can be by her side in less than 20 seconds.
"When can I have my phone back?" she asks, running her fingers along the bedding.
From my place back at the doorway, not invading her space any further, I sigh. "I'm not sure. Sky said he needs to do some major scrubbing of everything so it could be an hour or it could be a few days. Probably your computer, too."
Her eyes close and her lips wobble, and I want so badly to comfort her, to hold her so she knows she can fall apart. It's so clear that she needs to. "I had missed texts and calls from my mom and everyone I used to work with."
My need to give her everything she asks for aches with the knowledge that there's nothing I can do to ease her mind right now.
"I'm sure they'll all know you need a day or two to isolate before you face them," I suggest. "And if they don't understand and respect that, they'll just have to learn."
"And what about Stella?"
"What about her?" I ask, confused.
Settling onto the bed, she buries her face in her hands, wiping the nonexistent tears she wants to shed. "She texted me. I didn't even know she had my number."
"I'm sure she got it from her girlfriend's friend that knows you," I suggest, leaning against the doorframe with my arms folded across my chest. "Or Skyler."
A small chuckle slips from her lips, "That would make sense. And I'd bet the unknown number that texted me just before her was him."
