Page 68 of Velvet Vaughn

Chapter Thirteen

After a quick shower that was disappointingly solo, Leo found Anja in the kitchen working through something on her laptop. She’d changed into jeans and a blue sweater that accentuated her eyes, her hair caught back in a low knot. Objectively, no one would guess she’d spent the previous night laughing so hard she’d buried her face in his neck to keep from waking Remi.

He helped himself to some coffee.

“Tim Hargrove’s wake is tomorrow.” Not that she needed reminding. The woman had the memory of an elephant. “I need a suit. The firm expects me in something that isn’t jeans and a fleece.”

Anja looked up. “Do we need to go shopping?”

“No, I’ve got several at my apartment.” He set his mug down. “Remi and I can stop before work.”

She closed the laptop. “I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to come along for a wardrobe run.”

“No,” she agreed as she headed down the hall, “but I’m going to.”

He didn’t object. When the subject was security, arguing with her was a reliable way to lose time and gain nothing.

Remi appeared in the doorway two minutes later. He took in the situation with a single glance. “Your place?”

“Quick errand,” Leo confirmed.

Remi picked up his coffee and drained it, then twirled his finger in the air. “Let’s roll.”

They took Remi’s Escalade and headed east. The neighborhood shifted through the window as the limestone mansions gave way to broader avenues and the high-rise corridor where his building sat. His unit was thirty-five stories above street level.

The doorman, Oscar, had been there for eleven years. He was behind the desk when they pushed through the lobby doors. Oscar brightened and lifted a hand. “Mr. De Luca. Good to see you. Rough weekend?”

Geez, did he look that bad? “Working one. Oscar, these are colleagues of mine.”

Oscar gave Anja and Remi a polite, professional nod. He’d been managing the private comings and goings of wealthy tenants for long enough to know not to ask. “Of course. Have a good morning, Mr. De Luca.”

“You too.”

They took the elevator to Leo’s floor. The hallway smelled faintly of cedar from the cleaning service, and the low hum of the HVAC meant it was working properly. He pulled up the mobile app to unlock the smart door, and the deadbolt clicked.

He knew within three steps.

His jacket was on the floor near the couch. Not folded or hung, but discarded. The bookshelves along the east wall had been cleared in long, sweeping pulls, his belongings strewn across the hardwood in a trail that led through the open archway toward the hall.

“Stop.” Anja’s voice was flat and immediate.

He stopped.

She was already past him, one hand raised as she moved through the space in a low, fluid crouch that bore no resemblance to how he’d ever seen a person move through a room. Remi peeled left without a word, covering the blind corner by the kitchen.

Leo stood in the doorway as they cleared the apartment in a concentrated silence that left no room for commentary.

It took ninety seconds.

Remi reappeared from the bedroom hallway. “Clear.”

Anja straightened. “Don’t touch anything yet.”

He hadn’t moved.

Leo scanned his condo, taking in the overturned side table and the open drawers in the credenza, their contents rummaged through and dumped onto the floor. The kitchen was visible through the archway, its cabinet doors hanging open at odd angles. They’d ripped them off the hinges.