No one answered.
“Come on, you grouch,” I muttered, hitting it again and again.
I jogged to the road to look up at the apartment windows, but between the snow and my vision, I couldn’t tell if there were lights on or not. Mike could have simply run down to his shop to grab something. He was probably inside while I stupidly stood on the curb.
But why wouldn’t he turn the lights on?
Why leave the door open in this storm?
Creak.
Creak.
Mike really needed to oil the hinges of the front door. And I nearly laughed out loud thatthatwas suddenly the foremost thought in my mind.
My next immediate thought was to call the cops, but tell them what? I was standing outside the building of the business whose owner had, in so many apparent words, accused me of breaking into his shop? I grabbed my phone from my pocket and pulled up the telephone keypad. That suddenly seemed like a good idea, because what if the shop had been broken into again?
I had hit nine and one before stopping. What was I doing? I could go to the door and check myself. This was ridiculous.
“Mike?” I called into the dimness, knocking on the door as I slowly pushed it open.
Creeeeeak.
Jesus Christ.
“Mike? It’s Sebastian Snow,” I called again, taking a step inside. “You left your damn door open. The floor is all wet.” I was talking to a silent room. “I’m coming in, okay?”
I took another step before shutting the door behind me and cautiously looking around. The relative darkness of the shop, in part because there was no sun to shine through the big glass windows, made it easier for me to make out the shapes of chairs and tables. I hadn’t been by his shop in a while, and the layout was new.
I felt guilty about tracking snow and slush across the antique wood floors as I made my way around displays. It should have been obvious by now that Mike wasn’t here and that the door being left open meant something was wrong and that I should leave, but I did what any idiot would do—kept searching. The silence wasn’t exactly right. It was like when you enter a room you know someone else is in and you can just hear that person’s very existence—but notquite.
A shiver went up my spine, and I nervously wiped my hands on my jeans. I paused at the entrance of the T-shaped floor plan near the rear, with high shelving all around. The displays immediately ahead looked to be ladies’ accessories—brooches and gloves, that sort. I couldn’t see what was down the left or right aisles without entering.
Mike isn’t here. Mike isn’t here. Get out, you idiot!
But there was no obvious danger present, and I just needed to be certain a thorough search had been made before I considered calling the police for real to report… whatever I thought it was I needed to report. I took a quiet breath and moved forward. Turning left first, I walked straight into something furry. I yelped and jumped back, looking up and then ahead.
What the fuck!
It looked to be a cat. But—dead. Certainly dead. It had to be dead. The poor creature was hanging by a rope tied around its neck.
My heart raced, my breath coming out in short, panicked gasps as I looked up to see where the rope had been thrown around the blade of a ceiling fan. Nope. I was not having any of this. I turned, slipped on the wet floor, and grabbed a shelf to stay upright. A figure stood unmoving and staring at me from the right section of the T. Absolutely freaked, I hauled ass back to the entrance of the layout and made a hard right, running along the outer side of the T for the door. I didn’t get far before I tripped over something big and firm on the floor, crashing straight down on top of it.
I fell in something sticky.
“Oh my God,” I heard myself whisper as I braced my hands on the floor and shakily raised myself.
Mike stared up at me through lifeless, half-lidded eyes, a chunk of his head missing. Blood pooled and congealed all around him like a halo.
Chapter Three
TODAY SUCKED.
And the Understatement of the Year Award goes to: Sebastian Snow.
I had called the cops after that. Of course.
Those few seconds after finding Mike were almost surreal. I had fallen back on my ass, stumbling away from the body. My hands and jacket were covered in blood. For a moment I sat on the floor in a daze, my heart slugging against my chest as I tried to catch my breath.
