Page 40 of Pleasure & Prey: Vol. 2

If only she knew how much truth was in those words, and how close she was to solving her murder. She’d probably have an apoplexy if she got even a whiff of it, if I were to guess. My fingers tap as she stares down at her pad, and I want more than anything for her to just leave.

“Well, just in case you know more than you think you do, I’d like to give you a little warning.” Officer Rayez smiles sweetly at me, though it definitely doesn’t reach her eyes. Still, it makes me feel a little nauseous, and somehow I know that the next words out of her mouth aren’t going to be ‘God bless you.’

“Tyson Miller was a bad guy. He did a lot of things I would’ve loved to arrest him for. And he also has a brother, who, from what I’ve heard, is a real piece of work. Not only that, he was really attached to Tyson.”

“Okay?” I try to sound bewildered, instead of nervous, and I flip my hands over on the table, flexing my fingers absently. Officer Rayez glances down at my hands, then her dark gaze catches mine.

“Even if he just suspects you had something to do with his brother’s death, he might be not so friendly about asking his questions. I know it’s not much to go on, but if you see a man in his forties with brown hair and green eyes who seems out of place or aggressive, you’d do well to call me. At the very least, stay away from him. You don’t need a man with a penchant for taking revenge to be out for you, Saylor.”

“Why would he?” My lips move with the words, but I feel my palms beginning to itch; the clamminess sinking into my skin. “We didn’t do anything.”

Officer Rayez just looks at me. She stares at me for long enough that I’m half-sure she doesn’t believe me, before a smile finally hitches along her lips again and she stands up from my table.

“Maybe pass my message along to Jed, next time you see him,” she advises, nodding as she puts her sunglasses back on. Officer Brown is already back at the door, and I wonder why he comes along if it’s not to help her out with her interviews. Isn’t this the time where they should be playing good cop, bad cop, or something?

“I’ll tell him,” I agree, bewildered enough for it to be real. “Though I don’t think he’ll know what to do with that information either.”

She searches my eyes from behind the sunglasses, head cocked to the side as she stands half in, half out of my apartment. “Maybe not,” she agrees finally. “Maybe I’m just overthinking this. Stay safe, Miss King. And good luck with your photography.” They leave after that, not giving me a chance for the last word or anything else.

But that’s just as well. Because my thoughts are racing, and I know, finally, that I’m not about to spend the rest of the day moping for Jed again. My steps take me back to my room, and I pull my laptop off of its charger to take it to the bed, where I curl up with it in my lap.

I may not know how to get a hold of Jed, but I do know one thing, at least. Wren, his best friend, works for Greenco. And thanks to working for them a couple times last year as a party photographer, I know for a fact they have a full employee directory online with pictures. I may not be the world’s best investigator, but even I can scan pictures for the black-haired, smiling murderer who’d shown up at the cabin and nearly busted down Jed’s gate.

20

With the receptionist staring up at me with a friendly, expectant look on her face, I feel my confidence falter.

What in the hell am I doing?

I was free; free and clear from Jed and having ties to any murderers. I could’ve just gone about my life, found a normal boyfriend, and just moved on. But, well, I’d tried that for three whole days. And every single minute had been absolute hell, when all of me craved Jed.

Now I feel like I’m the psycho. It’s more believable for me to be out of my mind with how much I miss him. I've known him for a week, not a lifetime, after all. Breaks are normal. Being away from someone, even if you love them, is normal.

Maybe this means I’m just not that normal. Or I have unhealthy, codependent tendencies like my therapist had once hinted at when my mom had died and I was unable to even get dressed in the morning. If that’s the case, then I definitely owe her an apology for ghosting her and telling my dad she’d started talking about exorcisms mid-session, so he’d never take me back to see her again.

“Miss?” The receptionist is starting to look concerned as she looks at me, though she maintains her kind, professional smile impeccably while her eyes widen. “Are you all right?”

No. I’m having an existential crisis the likes of which this office building has ever seen.

“Yeah,” I say, trying to fix a confident smile on my face. I’m sure I don’t succeed. But the best I can hope for right now is that I don’t look psychotic, or in need of a straight jacket complete with a padded room. “Sorry, it’s just been a long day and I lost my train of thought.” It’s been a long week, to be honest. But she doesn’t need to know my pathetic life story. Not only that, but in the past twenty-four hours I’ve done enough sleuthing to track down how to get to Wren and his business hours that I could put private investigator on my resumé and only barely be lying.

“Are you here to see someone?” the receptionist prods as I stand there stupidly. “Or…do you have a delivery?”

“I’m here to see someone,” I say quickly, knowing that I’m really failing at my calm, cool, and collected act. If she throws me out, it’s all over and I’ll have to do something really shady like wait for him in the parking lot and try not to get arrested. “Is Wren Crystal here today? I’m supposed to discuss some business with him.” I’d settled on this explanation, figuring it’s better than nothing. At worst, I could bring up working for them in the past, and how Wren had told me that if I needed a reference or if there was any issue with getting paid, I could talk to him.

Both of which are untrue statements, of course.

“Let me just make sure he’s here today.” Her eyes drop to her computer, and I hear her clicking on the keyboard somewhere on her side of the desk. I watch, trying to look patient, as she flicks through screens, then finally rewards me with a smile. “He’s off in thirty minutes, but Wren is in his office. Do you know how to find him?” I find it strange that she’s not going to call up to him, to make sure that I’m not some crazy girl that’s here to profess her love to him. But maybe that’s just how he is. Or just how GreenCo is in general.

How lax of them.

“Not really,” I admit, hoping it doesn’t blow my sad excuse for a story. “I’ve only been here a couple of times.” That part, at least, isn’t a lie. I’d been here twice last year when GreenCo had hired me to do their party photos. And neither of those times had I been anywhere other than the event space and a meeting room. But damn, I do remember they’d had amazing donuts.

“You’ll take this elevator up to the seventh floor.” The receptionist gestures to the elevator behind her, at the beginning of a hallway leading to another part of the building. “Turn left, then head straight to the end of the hallway. Wren’s office is at the corner, with the big windows and his name on the plaque.” She rewards me with another smile. “You can’t miss it, or him. I promise.”

“Thank you so much. I appreciate all your help.” I know at least how to act like I’m not crazy, and I give her one last quick wave before crossing the large lobby. When I reach it, I gently smash the elevator button like all of my hopes and dreams depend on it.

Well, okay, not all of them. But I do really need to see Wren.