“He sounds like a delight,” she says dryly.
A small smile tugs at my lips. “Complete wanker.”
The phone buzzes again, the vibration loud in the silence. We both stare at it for a second.
“Shall I answer that?” she asks, “I can tell him for you.” I nod. He’ll only keep calling if I don’t.
She picks up the phone and steps out into the corridor. I lean my head into my hands, staring at the table, feeling hollow.
A few minutes later, she comes back, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “He’s quite a character,” she says. “He’s on his way here. I think he was shocked when I explained what had happened.”
I close my eyes. The last thing I want is him here.
“Did anyone contact my mum or my brother?” I ask quietly.
“Yes,” she says softly. “Officers have gone to your mother’s home. Would you like us to take you there?”
I nod immediately. “Please.”
She gives me a sympathetic smile and stands. I push the untouched tea away, my hand trembling.
Because whatever Warren Baxter’s shock looks like, I don’t want to see it. Not today.
Mum opens the front door and crumples against me before I can even speak. Her sobs shake through both of us, raw and broken, and my heart feels like it’s splintering in my chest. I wrap my arms around her and guide her back inside.
Jordan’s already pacing the living room, jaw tight, fists clenching and unclenching. When he looks at me, his eyes are red and furious.
“Did he tell you what he was doing for money?” he demands.
I shake my head, feeling the tension spike through the grief. “No. He didn’t.”
“Well, I’m not gonna rest until I find out,” he mutters, raking a hand through his hair.
“Not now, Jord,” I say quietly, glancing toward Mum.
“We’ve got cops out front,” he snaps. “So whatever he was doing wasn’t legal, was it?”
“You don’t know that!” Mum cries, her voice breaking.
I grab the tissue box from the coffee table and hand it to her. She takes it with shaking hands.
“He was murdered in cold blood,” she sobs. “They should be out looking for whoever did this, not sitting outside my house giving the neighbours something to gossip about.”
A shaky smile slips out of me before I can stop it. “Betty and Margaret will be loving this.”
Mum’s tear-streaked face softens for half a second. She always pretends to hate her neighbours’ gossip, but she’s the first to peek through the curtains when anything happens on the street.
Then the moment fades, and she looks at me with a hollow kind of pain that makes my chest tighten. “Why would anybody want my boy dead?”
I can only shrug. There are no words that make sense.
“And why in your apartment?” Jordan presses, his tone accusing. “Why there, Lee?”
“I don’t know!” The words come out sharper than I intend. “Why are you asking me? I don’t have all the answers. I’m just as shocked as you are, and when I saw him—” My voice cracks, the memory flooding back. “I don’t know what happened or why.”
Jordan’s glare softens, but only slightly. “Where were you?” he asks quietly.
I look away, my face heating. “I…got drunk. After work. I stayed with a friend.”
