“Good–grab them. We’re leaving now, Sweetheart. Grab anything you need because we’re not coming back here.” It probably wasn’t wise to remove anything from what—the crime scene? My patience is so thin and I’m close to throwing her over my shoulder and running caveman style.
“No, we’re not meant to touch anything. It’s basic policing.”
“But we’re not the police. Grab a t-shirt or some underwear that hasn't been destroyed.” I gesture around me, eyeing her suitcase and motioning for her to go look. She makes zero indication of moving, so I sigh and do it for her. The remaining items in the case have all been shredded, one pair of shorts appearing passable, until I realise someone ripped the front button off so they won’t fasten up. What fucker is that petty?
“W–Wren,” Robin’s jagged exhale has me finally snapping and I enter panic mode, turning around to see her hovering close to the vanity before the window. The glass is smashed, but in red thick lipstick someone has left a warning.
He’s lying!!!
I’ve never felt so compelled by my lizard brain before, until I hauled the barely five-foot woman out of that room and down the stairs shouting at the top of my lungs.
Stalking out of the dining room comes Detective Starling, accompanied by Cardinal and Merle; who stiffens at our approach. He looks more disheveled than when I saw him less than an hour ago. Cardinal wears a grey fitted sports t-shirt and shorts, his hair slick with either rain or fresh from a shower. Did this guy ever take a break? The grand Yorkshire lands were flooding, and it appeared we were now solving a murder, but god forbid he missed his morning jog.
Still clutching the papers, Robin pins them to her chest tighter and my stupid mistake dawns on me. I’ve run us straight to the detective with evidence we may be interfering with his case. She tried to detach herself from me on the stairs, but now clings to my frame and pressed the papers between us, hopefully hiding the content from the three of them. Both guys know about our endeavor, but considering Merle is now our top suspect, he definitely can’t see them.
“Someone’s trashed her room. Torn papers, cut up her clothing and smashed the mirror,” I say, needing to clear my throat and calm down a little. “They’ve left a message.”
“Are you joking?” Merle asks, his fists balling tight into his cotton trousers.
Cardinal moves first to our side, his full attention scanning over Robin which I hate. Could he not take his permanently moody aura and I don’t know, share that world of black with the rose bushes outside? I can look after her.
“Have you noticed anything missing? When did you return to your room?” Detective Starling steps further towards us into the lobby space. His feet squeak against the marble floor which isscuffed with dirt, wet mud from his shoes joining the dry flakes trailed in from the front door. He runs his fingers along his ugly mustache and I cringe, hands tensing up around her form that I still have clung to my body.
“I’m not sure, but my entire work stuff I brought is trashed. All my edits and notes are ruined. Someone cut my clothes.” She sucks in a breath, things suddenly seeming to dawn on her. Adrenaline still roars in my blood; someone broke into her room, trashed her things, cut her clothes, invaded her privacy and for what? Maybe for what we have protected between our chests.
“Fuck. Stay here, I’ll go take a look and start checking other rooms to see if they’ve been targeted too.” Cardinal commands, Starling's back going rod straight at the authoritative tone, like he’s just met the bigger fish in the pond. Stalking past he glares at the four of us before taking off up the staircase.
Scurrying past next, Starling shouts at him before he ascends up the stairs too. “Hey! I don’t know if you forgot buddy, but I’m the law enforcer! You better not walk into a potential crime scene involved in this investigation.”
“I swear both of them are monkeys. Probably pencil pushers on their first real case,” Merle seethed, tether finally snapped. “I’m so tired. So fucking tired. This weekend was a disaster, we should have guests this week but all I have to go on is DC–ugh, whatever he is. He changes his title every time he introduces himself to me. Nightingale House isn’t going to be ready to launch for months after this mess.”
Robin again pries her body slowly from mine, but this time she twists the papers from between us, moving them to her back so I finally let her down. She’s only in socks, and I nearly lift her back up to keep her from the muddy floor.
“Do you need us to help you with anything?” She asks and my heart nearly triples for her, because in a time of distress, she’s ready to lend anyone her dirty-socked efforts.
Sighing, he closes his eyes, one hand raised in a fist as he lightly hits the dining room doorframe with it. When he reopens them, he looks remorseful. “No, it’s fine. I’m going to go check the rooms as well. If you don’t mind just having a look around downstairs, I’m sure it’s alright. Afterwards, we’ll get everyone together. Goldie has Bran locked in his room because he won’t calm down and I think it’s time we all left the hotel. I don’t think they can legally keep us here.”
She nods, remaining quiet but turning her body as he walks past both of us to head upstairs. Before she can say anything I put a finger to my lips and point in the direction of the kitchen, holding my arm out so I can keep her close as we move.
PULLING open the pantry door, it could house at least twenty bodies if we all were sandwiched in. Every shelf is fully stocked; herbs and the scent of dry pasta hitting my nose, reminding me of a kitchen that sometimes was so full of life and fun. Taking her tiny hand, I pull her in, touching the switch to the side of the door and closing it behind us. The bulb swings casting flashes of shadows, but this may be the only place we won’t be overheard by another guest or either detective.
“What was with that Dr Jekyll impression? I’ve never seen Merle so infuriated and stressed. He was a mess.”
“First, I want to know if you’re ok? Your room–someone’s either trying to scare you or send a message. Maybe they were looking for something.”
She frowns, touching my cheeks with her palm. “I’m ok, really Wren. I had nothing in there of importance. Our devices were already taken and they didn’t find the list.” Gripping the papers tighter to her body, I scan her face for any slip of real emotion,but she’s telling me the truth. She’s not putting up any walls with me begging to be let in.
“You’re really alright?”
“Yes.” She whispers breathily, as I stroke her jaw with my thumb.
Unable to resist, I lean my head down, grazing my hands down her body, before lifting her up into me. Pressing my lips to hers, I didn’t realise how much I needed this to breathe again. I needed her.
Both groaning in unison, we stay like this for stolen minutes. Our tongues dance, lips wet and greedy as I kiss her over and over again. She’s the one to pull away, but not far. Resting her forehead against mine, both our chests heave as we silently cling to one another in our haven away from the madness. That’s what this all is, utter madness that’s threatening to pull us under with everyone here.
Reluctantly putting her back down, I keep hold of her waist and pawing at her skin because it honestly feels that if I let go, I’ll blink her out of existence. This is real, she is here and I’d do anything to keep her.
“Just had to double-make sure.” I say, unable to hold back the smirk tugging at my lips.
