“So he was angry. Start there.”
A few feet at a time, we make our way to the desk. A down jacket’s ripped open, and my steps kick up feathers. Dislodging his hand from my waist, I give his fingers a squeeze. “I need to move around a little bit to see what’s here. I won’t go more than arm’s length.”
He blows out a breath, nodding. “I don’t like this, darlin’. Be quick.”
Every time he calls me darlin’, I melt a little. The hint of the south, the tenderness…I could get used to hearing him call me darlin’ every day. With a shake of my head, I focus on the mess in front of me as I sink to my knees.
“There’s another notebook here. From the office. Same brand. A bunch of pages are missing, but some have writing on them.”
“Take it with you.”
I tuck it under my arm. “The rest is mostly junk. Pens, paperclips, a checkbook. Normal stuff.”
“Where’s the bedroom?” Dax holds out his hand, and I let him pull me up. “To the left?”
“Yes. How did you…?”
“Shadows. A dark one in the shape of a door. And I can hear the hum of the fridge in the other direction.”
I close my eyes, and he’s right. The fridge makes a low, droning sound to our right. “I never would have heard that.”
“But you hear it now, right?” With his hand on my waist again, he follows me. At my confirmation, he continues. “The whole ‘super hearing’ thing is a myth. My hearing isn’t any better than yours. But I pay more attention to it.”
“They tore up the mattress,” I say quietly. “Pulled it right off the bed. The sheets are in the corner. Nightstand overturned.”
“Take a minute, darlin’. Breathe. You’re gettin’ overwhelmed.”
His palm slides around to my stomach, and he keeps me cradled against him as I force a few deep, calming breaths. “Anything here look…personal? Like it would mean something to Kyle but to no one else?”
“I…I don’t know. We worked together for two years, but I’m not really sure I knew him at all.” The realization hits me hard. “I thought I was a good boss. That…I cared about my team. How can I not know…?”
Pulling away from Dax, I take a slow tour of the room. Clothes are strewn on every surface, the hangers in the closet empty. The small dresser is on its side. And in the corner… “What the hell?”
“Evianna? Talk to me,” Dax says sharply.
“It’s an old…answering machine. Like…from the 80s.” Something tickles the back of my mind. “What did Kyle say to you when you left the jail?”
“Tell Evianna I’m sorry I ruined her fancy sneakers.”
“Oh my God. ‘Janek’s little black box is on his desk between the pencil jar and the lamp.’”
“Huh?”
“Sneakers. It’s a movie. It’s the hacking movie everyone watched in the 90s. We had a movie night at the office last year to celebrate the first units going into testing. Kyle’s too young. He’d never seen the movie before. But he loved it. Told me he watched it half a dozen times on his own. And in the movie, the secret was hidden in an answering machine.”
I grab the machine, searching for a catch, anything that might open it. Dax cocks his head, sniffs a couple of times, and turns. “Evianna, I need your eyes. What’s behind that door? Closet or bathroom?”
As soon as I touch the handle, I smell it. Blood. “Bathroom.” The weathered door swings open, and I stifle my choked cry. “There’s…a lot of blood. Like…spattered on the sink, the floor. A pool by the cabinet.”
“We’re getting the fuck out of here right now,” Dax growls and reaches for me. “Tell me you didn’t touch anything with your bare hands.”
“N-no. Nothing. Well…the answering machine. But—”
“That’s coming with us. Get us back into the hall. Wipe down the apartment door handle. You touched it before I picked the lock.”
His harsh words, more orders than anything else, help me focus, and I grab his hand, leading him back through the remnants of Kyle’s life. As soon as the door’s locked with us on the other side, I use my sleeve to wipe down the knob. “What now?”
“Down to the car.” He taps his Bluetooth. “VoiceAssist: Walkie-talkie mode. Contact Vasquez.” After a moment’s pause, he snaps, “Vasquez! Where the fuck are you?”
