Page 34 of His Puppet

I nod and smile. “Yeah. Nice to meet you again.”

He returns my smile, grazing my shoulder with his fingertips. “You too.” He turns and walks from the room in a hurry. I count to five before I go to the bedroom door to peek out. By the sound of it, Matt went back to the kitchen, and I picture him there dialing whoever needed his attention. There isn’t much time.

I spin, darting my eyes around the bedroom before focusing on the two nightstands and searching for a bag lazily placed on the floor. Nothing.

Fuck.

I step into the hall, my mind spinning and heart beating out of my chest. I can hear Matt’s hushed voice in the kitchen.

I throw open the other door in this hall, and my eyes widen. It’s an office.

Bullseye.

There are certificates and awards hanging on one wall, along with a photo of Matt and some guy. There’s a fake plant in a corner, and on top of a wooden desk is a laptop.

Bless the underpaid detectives and their modestly-sized houses.

I slip into the room and head straight for the laptop. I listen intently to Matt talking in the other room while I open the computer and am, of course, met with a passcode. I try Cherry and don’t get in.

“Fuck,” I mutter, tapping my fingers on the desk while nervously looking around the room. The picture hanging up catches my eye again, but I don’t know what to do with that. It’s the only photo in the room, so I’m guessing the guy is important. They’re both in police uniforms, so … partner? But Matt is a detective.

Old partner.

Deadpartner.

Matt stops talking, and his footsteps sound on the tile as he heads this way. I quickly close the laptop and run around the desk to stand in front of the picture of Matt and the other man, trying to look like I’m studying it, while inside, I’m panicking.

When Matt reaches the door, I turn to him. “Hey,” he says, his eyes squinted.

Should I explain myself? Or just get straight to the point?

“Sorry,” I say, fidgeting with my hands in front of me. “I didn’t want to overhear your conversation, and it felt weird standing in your bedroom.”

He tilts his head. The poor guy looks so confused. “I thought you were—”

“I was,” I say, coming toward him. “But um…” I take a breath. “Well, I kind of wanted to say goodbye… And if I’m being honest, I wanted to ask if I could use your phone. You seem busy, and you keep forgetting about the dog.”

“Oh,” he says, letting out a breath. His face softens. “I’m so sorry, you’re right. Here,” he pulls his phone from his pocket and hands it over. “The passcode is 67591.”

I type in the passcode and wonder how he came up with those numbers. After looking up animal control, my gaze drifts to the picture on the wall, specifically the shiny metal on each of the officers’ shirts.

It’s a badge number.

I call animal control and give them my bullshit story, then hand Matt’s phone back to him when I’m finished.

“Thanks,” I say with a smile.

“No problem.”

Matt turns to walk me out, but I take his arm. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

He turns back to me and nods. I gesture to the picture. “That man in the photo. What’s his name? I’m pretty sure I know him.”

A sad look comes over Matt’s face, and I worry I said the wrong thing. He sighs. “Austin. You don’t know him. He’s been dead for five years.”

“Oh.” My eyes widen. “I’m so sorry.”

Matt shrugs and goes to stand in front of the photo. He stares at it longingly. “He was my partner for fifteen years… Not a day goes by that I don’t think about him.”

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