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Or Paul Levenson had lied.

Irritation tightened into something far less comfortable.

So he got back into the car and within minutes, he was outside Jake’s bedsit, knocking hard enough to rattle the thin door in its frame.

No answer.

He knocked again. “Jake?”

Faint movement sounded from somewhere beyond the door, and Harrison closed his eyes. He still had his key. It was in his pocket, secured to his own. But Christ, if he unlocked this door and found Jake simply ignoring him, or worse, not alone, then Harrison was about to overstep in spectacular fashion. Yes, Jake had given him a key. Yes, things between them had changed after the weekend. But they still hadn’t discussed what any of that meant outside of Jake’s bed.

Maybe Jake had fallen asleep.

Maybe he was ill.

Maybe he’d finally decided Harrison was too much hard work after all.

Another faint noise came from inside.

“Fucking hell.” Harrison banged again. “Jake, it’s me. Open up.”

Nothing.

He fished out the key from his pocket and slid it into the lock. The metallic click sounded unnaturally loud, and his pulse roared in his ears. Not because of Jake. But because for one disorienting second, it was another key. Another door. Another silence waiting on the other side. A garage. A quiet house. That terrible certainty that had seeped into his bones before his mind had been willing to understand why.

Harrison closed his eyes.

He could walk away. Not deal with it.

But he turned the key and pushed the door open.

The gap widened, letting a thin strip of light spill into the hallway. Harrison peered through it, heart beating hard enough to hurt as Jake’s bedsit came gradually into view. Then Harrison’s stomach dropped so violently it felt as though he’d missed a step. There was someone on Jake’s bed. Not Jake. Heat rushed through him, followed immediately by something cold and gut-curdling. Jake with someone else. Jake had brought someone home. Perhaps Jake wasn’t even here because—

The figure suddenly shot upright.

Teddy.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The teenager blinked at him from the middle of the mattress, surrounded by exercise books, homework sheets and crumpled notes, a games controller balanced across his lap. Relief hit Harrison so hard his knees actually weakened. But he stayed where he was, half inside the doorway, one hand still locked around the handle while his pulse continued battering away as though it hadn’t yet received the message.

Teddy stared at him.

Harrison stared back. “Hi.”

Teddy narrowed his eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Harrison.” He reached into his jacket to produce his ID. “Detective Inspector Harrison Black.”

“Police?”

“Yeah.” Harrison glanced around. “I knocked.” Panic crept in around the edges of Harrison’s relief. Christ. No matter how he explained it, this was going to look questionable. “Why didn’t you answer?”

“Jake told me not to.” Teddy furrowed his brow. “You came to our house. Before. About that girl? The missing one.”

“Yeah. I did.”

“Is Jake in trouble? Are you arresting him?”