Avery sounded acutely attentive as she closely examined the bookshelf in the hallway. Her fingers ran over the volumes, pushing some in, pulling others out. “When was that?”
“About three months ago. She had an attack a few weeks after and kept to her home under doctor’s orders.”
“Who was getting married?”
A familiar pang in Saga’s chest. Ah,thereit was. She’d almost thought it was gone the other day. “Nobody.” Her throat felt tight. “As it turns out.”
Avery turned back to look at her, clearly catching the shift in her tone but not understanding it, and Saga didn’t allow her focus to waver.
“I don’t recall a nurse being with her then. She and my grandmother arrived and left back for London together.”
Avery was eyeing Saga with a gaze that conveyed she knew Saga was purposefully withholdingsomething, she just didn’t know if it was relevant to the case.
“I’ll talk with my grandmother for you. See what I can dig up without causing too much suspicion. They’re preparing for the funeral, so I should be able to get some more information without too much trouble. Maybe I can find the connection—if there is one, of course.”
Avery hesitated, and Saga had a feeling that while this distraction might be sufficient for now, it was likely the inspector would bring it up later. “That would be deeply appreciated.”
That was fine. There was time to be emotionally preparedlater. What there wasn’t time for was having a small emotional breakdown in the middle of a potential crime scene.
“What are you looking for exactly?” Saga changed the subject back to the search at hand. “Drugs?”
“I’m looking for anything that might be out of place. Anything suspicious.”
That pit in Saga’s abdomen felt like it was churning now as she followed her down the hall. “Everythinglooks suspicious.”
Avery stopped, weighing this sentence. “How do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” Saga said, feeling more uncertain as she spoke. “Something just feelswrong, I guess.”
“You guess?” Avery repeated.
“I can’t explain it.” Saga dismissed her own credibility with a shrug, but Avery wasn’t having it.
Her gaze was strong, sincere, and unyielding.
So Sagaattemptedto explain. “I’ve never been here. But it feels like…” She stopped again, that voice in her own head chiding her for how ridiculous she was being—how ridiculous she sounded. Investigators didn’t care about feelings, just the same way doctors didn’t care about feelings. It was about facts—measurable data. A gut feeling had no place here.
“It feels like,” Avery repeated patiently.
“What I imagine it would feel like if you came home,knowingsomeone had broken into your house,knowingthey took something,knowingyour safety had been violated, but unable to figure outhow…” Which sounded crazier and crazier the more she spoke. She imagined Avery regretting bringing her along, realizing what undoubtedly her ex-fiancé, her mother, and her classmates had realized—that she simply was not up to the task.
Instead, Avery peered around the hallway, then past Saga into the next room, where she knew Rachel was still likely sitting. She dropped her voice again to that barely perceptible volume. “Have you felt this the entire time or since we stepped into the hallway?”
Saga blinked. She’d expected skepticism or a simple dismissal of the feeling as “first crime scene nerves,” and not to be taken at her word. “It does feel stronger here than it did before, but I’ve felt it since we crossed over the threshold.”
That word in particular meant something to Avery. She opened the bathroom door and turned on the light, giving it a cursory glance. It was clean, simple, and monochrome like the rest of the apartment. “What about in here?”
Was she being asked to…test it? Still, perhaps there was something Avery knew that she simply didn’t, and so she took a step into the bathroom.She waited, even raising her arm as one might when judging if the outside temperature called for a jacket. “Feels the same,” she concluded.
Avery turned to stalk farther down the hallway. She found a closet, but it unsurprisingly yielded nothing as well. Then she opened the door to the bedroom.
Saga had never witnessed a backdraft, but she imagined it was not dissimilar to the sensation that billowed over her. Her skin felt engulfed in cold and the oxygen thin. The pit she’d been feeling grew heavier, stinging. Her stomach churned. She raised a hand to rest against her chest, but instead, it came into contact with the gold medallion. It felt warm to the touch. Curiously, in a daze, she clasped her hand around it.
The warmth seeped through her fingertips, washing over her wrists and up her arms. She could see the goose bumps that had risen vanish once more. She caught her breath suddenly, as if simply focusing on the medallion had brought the air back into the room.
“Are you hurt?” Saga could feel hands resting on her shoulders to steady her.
Saga stared at Avery as the world wavered, fighting to bring it back into focus. She swallowed and shook her head. “What just happened?” Her voice was hoarse.
