I decided it was time to drop it. “So, you have a justice boner,” I said, “and then you came across Carol Stevens, and it launched a podcast.”
“Basically,” she said.
“Have you ever talked about the carjacking on the podcast?”
“No,” Sylvie said, sitting up and tilting her head to the side as if considering the idea for the first time. “The podcast isn’t about me. I’m here. I’m safe. I’m well. I don’t need my story told.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t listen to a lot of podcasts. I’m a history-and-biography-on-audio kind of guy. But I would think people would want to know why you do this.”
“Maybe,” she said.
“Who’s on deck after Emily Shaw?” I asked, just wanting the sound of her voice filling the dark.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I have a few options…”
She ran through the three unsolved murders at the top of her list, and I had the momentary thought that it sucked that we lived in a world where we had so many murdered women that she didn’t know which one to choose.
She knew so much about the cases she was considering,cases she hadn’t even investigated yet, that I kept her talking most of the ride. I didn’t want her to fall asleep until we were at the safe house, where she could tuck in and get a solid six to eight hours, maybe more. If my gut was right, we’d be heading out of town again in another day. She needed to catch up on her sleep first.
Sylvie didn’t give me a hard time when we got back to the building, letting me herd her into the elevator and then down the hall. As I unlocked the door, I asked, “You hungry?”
She shook her head. “I’m so tired I don’t think I can eat.”
“Good. Go to sleep.”
“What about you?” she asked, pressing her hand over her mouth to hide a jaw-cracking yawn.
“I’m going to drop the phone in the office, and then I’m going to get some sleep myself.”
She nodded. “All right. See you later. Thanks for not letting me get blown up, Eli.”
I nodded, my throat suddenly tight again.No more bombs.
Funny thing, coming from an explosives expert, but that was all I could think: no more bombs, no more Sylvie almost getting blown up.
It was early, but Maddox was in the office. I gave him the phone, told him I’d be back in a few hours with more details, and headed up to bed.
Chapter Eleven
SYLVIE
The apartment was empty when I woke up midafternoon, feeling a little more human but also like I could have slept for another twelve hours. There was something about feeling so safe that was relaxing, despite the current mess my life was in. The bedroom was a silent cocoon. The window had blackout shades pulled closed, the barest sliver of light intruding into the room. I’d slept like a rock.
One long shower later, I was dressed in another set of my new clothes, sitting in front of my new laptop, a cup of coffee steaming beside me. I ignored my bowl of yogurt and granola to fiddle with the laptop. Silver lining, it was a pretty slick little machine—better than what I would have bought myself since I didn’t have the bulk discount. So that was good, at least, assuming I could afford it and that I someday could access my money again.
I had to admit, if only to myself, that a part of me wished I’d picked another case, another dead woman, and left Emily Shaw behind. Then I’d be somewhere else, mylittle van still intact, diving into the details of another mystery—one that most likely wouldn’t get me killed.
My stomach squeezed a little at the memory of the night before. Eli’s chastisement had gotten under my skin. Annoying, but mostly embarrassing because he was right. What the fuck had I been thinking, climbing up the shelves and digging in the bin for that evidence after he told me there was a bomb in the building? Was I a fucking idiot? I’d seen what a bomb could do up close, and yet I hadn’t been able to run.
A jet of cold fear filled my stomach at what could have happened. What had almost happened. If Eli hadn’t been there to stop me from continuing, I would have died. What was wrong with me that this case was apparently more important than my own life?
Something to examine later. In therapy. If I survived this.
If I could have, I would have torn down the whole box of evidence and taken off with it, but it had been too heavy and awkward. There wasn’t a ladder on that aisle of shelves. Climbing up to get the box had seemed like the simplest way, but then I couldn’t get it back down.
I was lucky I got the phone at all. The idea of leaving with nothing and the building blowing up behind us, erasing every scrap of evidence? I wasn’t okay with that.
I was glad I’d risked my life for the phone. But still, I could acknowledge it had been exceptionally stupid. Eli had been right to be annoyed.
