“Ryder!”
“Let’s do this again sometime.” I winked, disappearing out the door.
Chapter 11
Ryder
The threadbare carpet squelched under my boots as I headed for Violet’s place, some unidentifiable leak creeping down the wall and bubbling the wallpaper in the corridor.
With my head dipped low, I began to pick the lock, conscious that I may not have much time.
“Hello, can I help you?”
I stilled, composing my face into a smile before I turned to find a short, older woman scowling up at me. “Hi, you must be Mrs Chen. Violet’s said so much about you.”
The woman didn’t seem convinced, though she should be because I’d researched and memorised the entire fucking floor of neighbours. “And you are?” she asked, the words stiff.
“Hi, I’m Jesse, her boyfriend.”
“Violet hasn’t mentioned a boyfriend,” she muttered, eyes narrowing as she inched back towards her open door. “She’s not home. You’ve just missed her.”
“Oh, I know.” I dropped my voice, as if I was sharing a secret. “I’m trying to surprise her with dinner. You know how hard she works. I’ve been trying to plan this for weeks, but I’m sure you know how her mum is.”
And there itwas, a slight twinkle in Mrs Chen’s eyes that indicated she bought it. “Oh, how nice,” she said, her tone much friendlier. “She really needs that after the last few days, bless her.”
“Yes, well… if you’d excuse me, I need to start before she gets back.” Keeping Mrs Chen in sight, I flicked my wrist and the door opened as if I’d used a key. “Have a good night.” Slipping inside, I immediately closed it while keeping an ear out for movement in the flat. I was surprised to find I was alone, and moving quickly I rushed towards the bedroom.
This wasn’t the first time, or even the second I’ve been in here, and each time I didn’t know where to look first. It was like the entire room didn’t know what mood it was supposed to be.
A bright poster was half-pinned to the wall above a dresser crowded with mugs, three with actual drinks, and one full of coloured pens. Clothes draped over the chair and the bed.
On the vanity, if you could see past the stack of sketchbooks, a rainbow of sticky notes formed a chaotic collage of reminders, doodles, and half-finished to-do lists surrounding a fractured mirror.
Fairy lights twined across the ceiling, mismatched pillows and blankets made the bed a colourful nest, and a sketchbook lay open, mid-drawing. Honestly, no wonder I never realised a second person lived here. The place was an absolute bloody mess.
Pushing the sketchbook to the side, I immediately lifted the mattress to find not one, but six knives simply lying across the wooden slats.
“What the fuck?” I muttered before letting it drop with a dull thump. I thought I’d lost my mind when I’d first noticed a glimmer when I’d been hiding. But no, there wasindeed a whole arsenal. I must say, it was one of the stranger things I’ve found under one’s mattress.
Moving on, I checked inside the pillowcases, then the duvet. The wardrobe held nothing but clothes, mostly thrown at the bottom rather than on the hangers, and shoes. No strange, out of place boxes or loose floorboards.
Kicking out in frustration, my foot pushed over the corner of a thick rug. Frowning, I lifted it up entirely and found nothing but cheap lino pretending to be wood. Except there was one fake board that was slightly raised, the edges curling. Dropping to my knees, I picked at the edge, pulling it back to reveal… absolutely fucking nothing.
Next was the vanity, the piece of furniture old and solidly built. Opening the drawers, I expected to find a false bottom, or maybe even a latch. But of course, it was empty.
Okay, if I was a coin short of a few quid, where would I hide a stolen USB drive?
This was by far my strangest job. So yeah, data retrieval wasn’t that unusual, but being told nothing except that I was looking for a USB drive stolentwentyyearsago? That was a new level of weird.
Then there was the slim information packet on Geraldine Hoffman, complete with one grainy, off-angle photo taken a few years back. Mr C had already tracked her down himself, so why hire me to fetch the drive?
Either his people were entirely incompetent… or they were afraid of whatever Geraldine knew.
Closing the vanity drawer a little harder than intended, the entire thing rocked as if unstable. My hand shot up to steady the fractured mirror, then I gave the vanity another cautious shove. It rocked once more, clearly uneven.
Crouching, I checked the legs, finding one being propped up with a book. Easing it out gently, I?—
Thwack.
