I tap on the pictureless icon boasting nothing more than aC, and then I stare at his location.
Blinking, I lift my head off my nightstand and stare some more.
His location…does not update. It does not move. It remains perfectly still.Right here. On top of my very own building.
Malcolm liveshere?
Where?
Which apartment.
Which…
Tense, I tip my head back and peer up at the ceiling, toward the penthouse. It’s the only place that remotely seems to fit his character. Which means…Malcolm Swallow lives right above my head.
I don’t know what’s scarier. That knowledge or the persistent sensation of his phantom arms closing in, like unrelenting vises.
?
“Ivory… Ivory.Ivory.”
Startling, I look up to find Iverson glaring down at me, face pinched, stone hard. Rubbing weariness away, I address him, “Sorry, sir. What is it?”
“When will the invitations be ready to send?” he asks.
Invitations… Right. Yes. “Um…” I check the stack of letters I’ve been working through for the past few days now. “I’m almost done, so soon.”
Curt, he nods, then he returns to hisoffice. In his absence, I sigh against the mound of gold-gilded blue envelopes beforeme. Handling them is repetitive in a way that isn’t helping me stay awake at all, but I need to push through. With this Flag Day wedding barely over a month away, this is a priority.
This morning, since I couldn’t sleep anyway, I went down to my car, searched for my crystal heart to no avail, dozed, and waited for the penthouse elevator doors to open. When they finally did, Malcolm stepped out, crossed to his personal garage, and got in his SUV.
It was all the confirmation I needed.
I have lived a single floor away from Malcolm Swallow for who knows how long.
I began working for him two years ago, and shortly after the paychecks started coming in, I moved to my current apartment. I have no idea if this is a coincidence or if I need to add stalking to his list of heinous crimes, but either way I don’t know how to feel about it all.
He’s soclose.
If I could get access to his apartment without cameras seeing me…
Stiff, I shake the thought from my head. There’s no way. The elevator is the only access point I know about, and it’s heavily secured. Cameras everywhere. A key’s required to even make it run. And even if I were to find the emergency stairs, no doubt there’d be dozens more cameras all over them. I would absolutely be caught if I tried to stab him in his sleep.
…but would Junction be able to send someone to pull it off?
After these past two weeks of missed and failed opportunities, I’m not convinced Junction knows what he’s doing. And if neither of us knows what we’re doing, maybe I should pull out while we’re ahead.
It wouldn’t be terribly difficult.
I’m positive I could tell Malcolm the situation with zero repercussions. He’d believe me if I lie and tell him that I wasgathering information, and he’d probably laugh his head off if I tell him the truth instead about how I was really, really hoping there’d be an ounce of competence in his murderers.
He’s very…
Something.
I don’t know.
It doesn’t matter.
