“There’s nothing to see,” he said. “This is it.”
“You’re checking for explosive residue? Accelerant?” Eli asked.
“Tests are being run,” the detective said with a nod. “I’m sure we’ll have more questions when the results are back.” He looked to me, maybe expecting the mention of tests to spark a comment, but I had nothing. My eyes were glued to the screen, lungs tight, getting tighter as I took in the empty shell of my life.
He was right. There was nothing there but ash. Not a scrap of fabric. Not a square inch of wood. Everything was gone. I thought about the day I’d installed the Murphy bed mechanics with my brother. It had been so heavy and awkward for me alone. I’d dropped the tools and the parts, bruising my toe. We finally got it in there, and when we did, the mattress went up and down so smoothly it seemed like magic, transforming the back of the van from a bedroom to an office with the slightest touch.
All the air went out of my lungs. It was gone. Just gone.
“Is there anything else?” I asked, my voice thin and tight.
“No, that’s it for now. Don’t forget to take care of that ticket. We’ll be in touch.”
I didn’t know how, when I hadn’t given the detective my information, but maybe Eli had. My brain was foggy, frozen, my chest hollow with loss as it all hit me at once. Someone had tried to kill me. My home was gone.
That strong hand closed around my arm again. “Let’s go.” Eli’s words were curt, but his touch was gentle as he urged me to my feet and nudged me through the door ahead of him.
We stopped in the hall. I leaned against the concrete wall, watching numbly as he tapped his phone to the screen of a vending machine and pulled out a soda, leading me out through the front doors to the SUV.
“Come on. Get in.” He nudged me to the door he held open.
Obedient, I climbed in, my hands shaking a little as I fastened my seat belt. The second it clicked in, Eli shoved the cold can of soda into my hand.
“Drink this.”
“I never drink soda,” I mumbled, staring down at the can.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re in shock. You need the sugar and the caffeine. Come on, Sylvie. Take a sip.”
The sweet bubbles hit my tongue, sparking life back into my brain. I took a cautious sip, then gulped. When I was halfway through, the sweetness of it was too much, and I slid it into the cup holder, wrapping my arms around myself, watching blankly as Eli pulled into traffic, navigating somewhere. He turned into a parking garage and didn’t say anything until he’d found a spot and stopped the car.
Chapter Six
ELI
Sylvie was hanging on by a thread. She took one last sip from the can of Coke, set it in the cup holder, and reached for the door handle.
“I’m good. Let’s go.”
I appreciated the backbone, but she was lying. Sylvie was so far from good. She was exhausted, coming to grips with the fact that she’d lost her home and someone wanted to kill her. And the detective had been an asshole right down to that parking ticket. I wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
She drew in a quick breath and held it for a beat before letting it out in a rush. As she did, her spine straightened, and her chin lifted. She brushed the back of her hand against her cheek—still faintly smeared with dirt from the night before—and shoved open the door.
It appeared she could take a little more.
I moved to follow. My gut said I needed to stick close to Sylvie’s side. Because she was about to fall apart or because she was in danger? My gut wasn’t saying. It was probably both. I closed my fingers around her elbow, guiding herthrough the other shoppers to the carts and wondering exactly how painful this process was going to be.
I wasn’t much of a shopper. Online was generally my thing, unless we were talking electronics or outdoor gear. I wasn’t looking forward to the time it would take to restock everything she needed, but it had to be done, considering all she owned was in the mostly empty backpack she carried.
Sylvie gripped the cart, bracing herself, and flashed me a bright grin that didn’t reach her eyes. “Let’s get in and out. I’d kill someone for a shower and clean clothes.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said.
“Don’t get in my way,” she warned, and before I could make a sarcastic reply, she was off like a bullet.
She hit the women’s clothing department first, as it was next to the carts, grabbing a fascinating assortment of clothes: two pairs of jeans, two short-sleeve T-shirts, two sweaters, a hoodie, two long-sleeve T-shirts, a pair of black pants, and a simple dark blue dress. Two more shirts got tossed into the cart as she walked by them, pausing only to check the sizes. It didn’t take me long to see that with this small selection of clothing, she could fit in almost any environment, from professional to casual, just by trading around pieces. Smart.
A few more steps into the next section, and she stocked up on underwear, bras, and something to sleep in. I tried not to hover too close there, not wanting to be a weird creeper who watched her pick out her underwear.
