They spent the rest of the evening bickering and comparing the worst pets they’d had growing up. Meghan’s had been her stinky turtles. Christopher had a three-legged dog that farted all the time, and Andrew had owned a rat that bit his toes.
Before we left, Meghan took me aside for a chat.
“You’re falling for Christopher,” she said. “This is really soon to be all in. Your heart isn’t just on your sleeve, you’ve served it up on a silver platter. Do you know what you’re doing?”
“Thank you for looking after Ember.”I didn’t want to talk about Christopher. I’d already addressed everything, including her worries.
I smiled to let Meghan know I wasn’t angry and hugged her. She seemed surprised at the affection, but squeezed me in return. Collecting my kitten from the couch where she’d snoozed since dinner, I put her in her carrier. Christopher held the case while I hugged the others to say goodbye. It sounded like Andrew would help, so we had a place to start.
Chapter 12
Tuesday night, Christopher and I went to Brandon’s and retrieved his laptop. Christopher knew someone who could hack in, no password required. Soon after, we had access to his files, at least some of them. I also ordered the antivenom using the card Benny had given us. Benny had warned us it would take a couple of months. The expected delivery date was late November, around Thanksgiving. I waded through Brandon’s formulas and research to develop my understanding while we waited. We were impatient for the antivenom’s arrival, but the timing was out of our control.
After we collected the laptop, a black SUV appeared outside my house several days in a row. At the wheel was the tall, bird-like man from the hospital. After that, when we exercised, we left together. We ran a route that took us to the hospital and I waited downstairs while Christopher talked to Brandon. I didn’t want to return home alone.
The next several weeks fell into a rhythm. I went to karate while Christopher went to the gym. We spent most nights together and got up several mornings a week to run before work. We weren’t together every minute, but spent time together every day.
With Christopher’s return to my life, I hoped my stalker had been foiled. None of my missing items reappeared, but nothing else disappeared. Eric had been in my house over the summer, but now he’d stopped. I relaxed and let my guard down at home. The Real Tech-related SUV was a separate issue. We must have alerted someone that we were interested in Brandon’s research when we went to his townhouse. I hoped they’d searched my house too and come up empty. I’d rather believe that people being in my house related to business and wasn’t personal.
“Maybe we missed something at Brandon’s and so did Real Tech. We have to assume they’ve been back. Has anyone checked his place for break-ins?”
“I’ll go,” said Christopher. “Nobody’s been there for almost a month. Not since we got the laptop in September. I had his mail forwarded.”
“Not without me,”I said. He raised an eyebrow. His expression told me I’d have to make my case.“We’re in this together.”
I couldn’t stay shackled to Christopher forever, but I also wanted to be involved.
Christopher grinned.
We drove toward his place, as though we were going home. When he determined we hadn’t been followed, he doubled back to Brandon’s. We parked in the alley and entered through the back door with Christopher’s key. The back door frame was splintered, but the door had closed.
Inside was a disaster. Brandon’s place had been ransacked.
We stepped over junk strewn across the floor. The air smelled stale with a hint of garbage. My guess was this had happened weeks ago, as a fine coating of dust sat on his scattered belongings.
“Touch nothing.” Christopher surveyed the destruction and let out a deep breath. “I’ll let Andrew know. He should bring a team here. I’ll take pictures. I hope my brother has insurance.”
“They would have used gloves,”I said.“I’m certain they didn’t find what they were looking for, which is why they’ve been following us. They think we have something they need. We have to look in places they missed.”
Christopher surveyed the apartment. “They didn’t miss much. Don’t touch the mess.”
They’d left nothing undisturbed in the living room—tipped the furniture, slit the cushions, and emptied the bookshelves. I wandered into the kitchen while he headed down the hall toward the office and the bedroom. Food lay scattered in piles on the counter and someone had dumped cereal and dry pasta on the floor. A couple of cans of baked beans had rolled against the baseboards and a tin of sardines was wedged under the front of the fridge as though kicked. The cupboards were open, though Brandon’s dishes were intact. I spun and took in the kitchen and suddenly felt a lightbulb flash in my brain. The fridge.
I opened the refrigerator door. The smell of rotten vegetables permeated the air, and I wrinkled my nose in distaste. It might not have been searched thoroughly because of the foul aroma. His fridge was almost as empty as mine had been in 2022. The sign of a true workaholic. Other than a bag of slimy lettuce and the plastic-coated liquid remnants of a former cucumber, the sole contents were the condiments in the door. He owned five kinds of mustard, a practically empty ketchup bottle, chipotle and moldy hot sauces of a variety of vintages, and a small glass jar of crushed garlic.
I was about to close the fridge in disappointment, when I remembered Brandon despised garlic. He avoided it because it gave him severe heartburn. The jar of garlic didn’t belong in his fridge and was the type of thing I was searching for. I opened the jar and peeked inside. It wasn’t garlic. I replaced the lid and stuck it in my purse. It was a long shot, but I thought perhaps Brandon’s apartment was bugged. I didn’t want anyone else to know we’d found what they’d missed.
I sent Christopher a text.“Found something. Pretend you give up. Come get me.”
He reappeared a minute later. “Lizzie, this is a wild goose chase. They’ve searched this place from top to bottom. We couldn’t have missed anything important. We have to let the police know and let the professionals handle this.”
I nodded, and he took my hand. We returned to his car and Christopher sent photos of the mess to Andrew.
We sat in the car, but he hadn’t started the engine. “What did you find?”
I looked around. Nobody was near us and I hadn’t seen the Real Tech black SUV. I removed the glass jar from my purse and set it on my lap.
“Garlic?” said Christopher with a frown. “Brandon hates garlic.”
