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How much more than he’d already told him had Rufus managed to find out about Mia in the short time he’d had since Darius’s phone call this morning? The file looked thin, but there were still at least a dozen pieces of paper inside.
Much as Darius wanted to know what those pieces of paper said, wouldn’t his reading them be a gross intrusion on Mia’s privacy?
Hell, yes, but no more so than his own efforts last night to find out more about her.
It was curious, though, that besides having no personal online presence, she also had no passport or driving license.
* * *
The two security men who should have been on the reception desk in the lobby of the apartment building were, as was usually the case, missing when Mia returned with Honey. They seemed to spend most of their time sitting in the private room behind the desk, giving the appearance of watching the security camera feeds throughout the building. Except Mia was pretty sure she’d heard the sound of daytime television playing more often than not.
Honey’s paws had the usual trouble navigating the marble floor of the reception area, but thankfully, there was a carpet in the elevator. The hallway on the eleventh floor where Honey’s owner lived was also carpeted.
Temporary owner, Mia reminded herself, because she was pretty sure Darius Kingston was going to point out to Mr. Fletcher, sooner rather than later, that he was in violation of his tenant contract by having a dog in his apartment. No doubt Darius would give the other man the choice to either remove Honey from the building, or he would insist, as he had instructed Mia when he thought Honey was hers, that both the dog and Giles Fletcher find somewhere else to live.
Giles Fletcher was single, probably aged thirty-fiveish, moderately handsome, with blond hair and blue eyes. He was also gay and had told Mia he had no real interest in keeping Honey, as her presence interfered with his private life. Apparently, he’d only taken custody of the dog because he hadn’t known what else to do with her after his mother’s recent death. Those circumstances probably meant that once he got over the shock of losing his mother, he would choose to remain living in his apartment and Honey would end up in an animal shelter.
Which made Mia sad. Not because she would no longer be paid to walk Honey, but because she’d become genuinely fond of the Golden Labrador. She knew she wasn’t supposed to let her emotions rule her head—God knows she should be well aware of that after the years of emotional barrenness she’d spent in the orphanage—but there was just something so endearing about Honey.
Maybe if Mr. Fletcher did decide to get rid of the dog, she could offer to take—
Not happening, Mia told herself firmly.
She wouldn’t be able to afford to feed a big dog like Honey, for one thing; she barely had enough money to feed herself. For another, her own landlord also had a no-pets policy.
She was so caught up in her thoughts that it took until she had used her key to let herself into Giles Fletcher’s apartment, taken Honey off the lead, and hung it on one of the coat hooks on the wall beside the door to realize there was a strange metallic smell permeating the apartment. One she was sure hadn’t been there when she left earlier with Honey.
“Mr. Fletcher?” Mia remained in the hallway as she called out to him.
As far as she knew, Giles Fletcher was a junior partner in some big-shot London law firm. He usually left for his office after Mia had collected Honey for her morning walk, and she didn’t see him again until the evening. But maybe he had been delayed this morning? She—
The hairs on Mia’s nape rose as Honey began to make a low growling noise in her throat.
“Mr. Fletcher?” Mia called out less certainly this time.
She usually refreshed Honey’s water and food bowls in the kitchen before she left her here for the day. But her own feelings of disquiet and Honey’s uncharacteristic growls of aggression made her reluctant to venture farther than the safety of this entrance hall.
She gave herself a mental shake. She was just being silly. Honey could probably sense the presence of a mouse or something equally as harmless. Not that Mia thought a mouse was in the least innocuous, but it was certainly nothing to be afraid of either.
Yes, she was being ridiculous.
More importantly, if she didn’t go to the kitchen right now and give Honey her breakfast, she was going to be late for her ten o’clock class!
Mia gasped the moment she stepped into the sitting room, knowing her feelings of disquiet a few seconds ago hadn’t been silly or ridiculous.
The usually meticulously tidy room, with its décor of blue and gray hues, was in complete chaos.
Paintings had been pulled off the walls, their frames smashed as they lay on the carpeted floor beside broken lamps and emptied drawers.
The wooden sideboard and coffee table were overturned.
The leather chairs and matching sofa had been slashed open and the stuffing pulled out. The same with the soft cushions.
The metallic smell was also stronger in here.
There was also an underlying odor of something even more unpleasant, Mia realized with a disgusted twitch of her nose.
The reason for which became obvious when she saw Giles Fletcher lying on the blue Aubusson rug in the middle of the room. His eyes were wide open, his head at a strange angle, probably caused by the livid gash that ran across his throat from ear to ear.
