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“Of course.”
We held onto the line for several seconds, the words “I love you” within reach, but we didn’t make a move to touch them.
I hung up as Damien pulled in front of a parking meter. He leaned over and opened the center console, pulling out a box and a small camera.
“You need to put these on when we get inside.” He handed me a pair of medical gloves. “The next ten minutes never happened.”
“Are we private investigators or lawyers?”
“Depends on what day of the week it is. You have to do your research, no matter what your client tells you.”
As if he could sense my next question, he looked at me. “And sometimes you need to do the research yourself.”
He exited the car, and I followed him into an apartment building.
He led me up four flights of steps, and then he walked in front of Apartment 14V.
I waited for him to knock, but he put on his gloves and picked the lock in ten seconds flat.
Then he pulled me inside and shut the door.
Oh my god…I sucked in a breath at the sight before us.
Bright red blood was splattered all over the walls. Still fresh, a few droplets dripped to the floor.
Pairs of shoes lay scattered in the hallway. Two suitcases lay wide open, their shirts and pants stuffed high as if someone didn’t get a chance to finish getting away.
A guy lay in the middle of the floor, half his head smashed in.
I stared at his chest, watching to see if it would rise and fall if he still had a chance at life.
He remained still as stone, his fingers splayed on the wood.
I leaned down to check for a pulse, but Damien grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t touch anything in this room unless I tell you to, and don’t step in any blood.”
“Shouldn’t we call the police?” I asked.
“For what?”
“Someone murdered this man.”
“What an insightful observation, Miss Tanner.” He snapped pictures with his camera, deftly maneuvering across the floor without getting a single drop on his shoes as if he’d done this countless times before.
Two bloody handprints stared at me from the window. Underneath them was a baseball bat with a handle of blood.
My heel snagged on the edge of the rug, and Damien caught me before I fell forward.
“I need you to focus a lot harder on not touching anything.” He narrowed his eyes. “No one can ever know that we were here.”
I nodded, and he slowly let me go.
He snapped more pictures, bent low, and reached for something under the couch. Pulling out an AirPods case, he placed it in a plastic bag and tucked it into his pocket.
Then he made a call. “Anything else you can think of to tell me before the police get here? We’ll be back to the firm in an hour and you’ll meet my partner over coffee.” He looked at me. “Grab that umbrella behind you.”
I obliged, and he placed it into the plastic bag before ending the call.
