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“Oh crap, wait,” I cried, wincing when he reached up to touch a tile. “Let me get you some rubber gloves first.”
He glanced down at me and frowned in confusion. “What?”
I rolled out a hand, trying to get him to understand. “You know, in case she finds anything gone. She won’t be able to track the fingerprints back to you.”
His shoulders fell. “I think you’ve seen too many CSI shows. But if it makes you happy—”
“It does.” I raced to the broom closet and grabbed the box in there, returning less than five seconds later. “Here.”
When I pulled two pairs of gloves free from the box, he paused before taking one.
“Frankly, I’m disturbed to see my mother has such a large, economy-sized box full of rubber gloves.” He grimaced before cautiously tugging them on.
I rolled my eyes as I pulled on my own pair. “Don’t be. I’m the one who ordered this box from room service.”
When he lifted an eyebrow, I shrugged. “Trust me, if you’d seen the dildos I had to clean, you would’ve gotten gloves too.”
“Jesus, Gabby!” With a repulsed shudder, he turned away. “You really didn’t have to share that with me?”
I cracked a grin. “But I love watching your face pucker in horror every time I do. So awesome.”
He snorted and shook his head. “You’ve clearly worked here too long. Her evil is wearing off on you.”
Reaching up, he tested the ceiling tiles, lifting them to make sure nothing was sitting on top of any of them.
“The scuff marks I cleaned were over on this side,” I offered when he failed to find anything after two tries.
He stepped that way, prodded another tile, and then—
Jackpot.
Pausing, he glanced at me. “Something’s on top of this one.”
He lifted the tile next to it and rose up onto his toes to feel around blindly with his free hand before he sucked in a breath and pulled down a small wooden box.
“Holy shit,” I shrieked, jumping up and down in shock. “It looks just like the box in the show I just saw. This is so creepy. I hope there’s not a jar full of teeth inside.”
Hayden glanced at me, startled. “Come again?”
I waved a hand. “Long story. Let’s just take the box and go.”
But he shook his head. “We can’t. The police have to be the ones to confiscate it. We just need to know what’s inside and where to direct them to find it.”
I bit my lip, feeling antsy. “Okay. Fine. But hurry. I’m starting to feel nervous about this.”
“And you weren’t before?” he asked incredulously as he crouched down low on the counter before hopping to the floor and setting the box on the island.
“Well, yeah, sure,” I admitted. “But now I really am. Holy shit,” I offered when he simply flipped the lid open. “She didn’t even lock it. Maybe it’s not—”
“It is,” he countered with steely determination. “Otherwise, why was it hidden up there?”
“Right. Of course.”
Good point.
Inside, lay a mountain of paperwork, a few pictures, and—what do you know—two cell phones. No teeth, though, thank God.
“Damn,” I breathed when he reached in to pick up one of the ancient-looking phones. “It looks like one of those versions they even came out with before flip phones. They have to be at least—”
