“I know. I wasn’t—”
Allen cut him off. “I’m with him because I want to be. Not because I’m desperate and will grab the first man who shows me any attention.”
Jamie held his gaze for a second, then nodded. “Alright.”
Their food arrived, and it gave Allen an excuse to stop talking. He ate without tasting much of it. Jamie filled the silence with small talk about work, his girlfriend, and some idiot he’d dealt with that morning, but Allen only half listened. He nodded at the right moments. Smiled when he was meant to.
When they were done, Jamie checked his phone, then put it down. “Hey,” he said. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Allen looked up. “Like what?”
“The red flag thing.” Jamie sighed. “I wasn’t saying he’s using you. Or that you’re… anything. I just — I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Allen nodded. “Okay.”
Jamie watched him for a second. “You’ve gone quiet.”
“I’m fine.”
“That’s not what I said.”
Allen held his gaze, then shrugged like it didn’t matter. “Please drop it.”
Jamie exhaled and rubbed a hand over his face. “Alright. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Allen nodded again. “Okay.”
When they’d finished, they walked outside. Allen pulled his coat tight, and at the corner, Jamie bumped Allen’s shoulder lightly. “Message me later, yeah?”
Nodding, Allen said, “Yeah.”
Allen waited until Jamie turned down the street, then headed home, trying to ignore what Jamie had said, but finding it difficult to do so.
When he reached his apartment, Allen kicked his shoes off by the door and didn’t bother turning the main light on. He grabbed a drink, went to the couch, and turned on the TV. He told himself he was just putting something on in the background and not because he wanted to see more about the hotel.
It took ten minutes before the story came back around with a different presenter this time. Same footage of the hotel with the same flashing blue. Briar House. Allen sat forward without realizing he’d moved as his brain pulled the card up again.
The presenter said the victim’s name again, called her a backing singer, and mentioned a tour. All the information Allen knew from earlier. Allen’s eyes stayed on the screen, but his focus had shifted to Rick.
When the segment ended, Allen didn’t change the channel straight away. He stayed for another minute, the remote in his hand, his thumb resting on the buttons without pressing any of them.
He didn’t want to be that guy who couldn’t trust his partner. He didn’t want to go snooping, but that card… Allen shook his head. No, Rick wasn’t like that. He might not know Rick well yet, but Allen knew Rick wasn’t a killer. He knew it.
Chapter Seventeen
It was Friday night, and Rick had parked where he could see the studio exit without being under the main lights. From here, he had a clear view of the lot and the back corner near the loading bay where the cameras didn’t reach. He’d checked it earlier in the week. There was a camera over the front gate, one angled down the main drive, and a third pointing at the staff entrance, but none of them caught the strip of asphalt behind the dumpsters. Perfect.
He’d spent the week learning all about Elliot without him ever noticing. Elliot arrived at the same time most days. He took smoke breaks out the side door and he drank from the same battered water bottle. Rick had noted everything. He checked the time again. 9:58.
A car rolled past on the road beyond the fence, headlights sliding across the metal in a slow sweep. Rick shifted his gaze to the far end of the parking area. Elliot’s car sat where it always did, slightly crooked in its bay. Rick had been there earlier. He’dused a screwdriver to puncture the tire, low enough that a casual glance wouldn’t catch it.
The studio door opened, and Elliot stepped out first, with his phone in his hand. He paused at the top of the steps and said something over his shoulder, then laughed before waving and walking across the parking lot.
When Elliot reached his car, his steps slowed. He stared at the front tire, then he swore, and then kicked the tire. “Fuck!”
Elliot lifted his phone when Rick opened his door and stepped into the cold. He didn’t slam the door shut because he didn’t want to draw Elliot’s attention to him. He walked across the lot, hands down at his sides, head slightly lowered so Elliot couldn’t see him.
When Elliot heard Rick approaching, he glanced over at him, his eyes widening in surprise. “Rick?” He squinted, then smiled. “Is that you?”
