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I swirl around my drink as I look into the glass. “Iam seeing someone.”
Zayn hums as he stares at me. He doesn’t seem at all surprised. More like he already had a suspicion, including who it could be. But I just stare back.
He relents with a shrug and a chuckle. “Seems I’m losing five bucks to Gail, thanks to you.”
“Actually, I’d like you to meet with her sometime tomorrow after our shift,” I say casually. “Aria can help us with Night Fang.”
Zayn’s grin tightens. “Oh, that little mess?” He brings his glass up to his lips. “I don’t mind, but should Gail also be present?”
“No,” I say, working to keep my voice neutral. “This is between you and me. There’s a…complicating factor. No other police are to be involved.”
Zayn keeps his gaze on me as he downs the rest of his drink. I stare back, my chest tight, my body relaxed. There’s a reason I don’t trust easily.
It’s dangerous.
Zayn lowers his glass, a broad grin spreading over his face. “The Big Bad Wolf has a sidekick, huh?”
I raise a brow. “That’s not what I said.”
“Helping you on the downlow is totally something a sidekick would do,” Zayn points out, his grin growing.
I’m saved from answering by both our cells dinging with a notification. And if we both received it, then it means it’s work.
We’re on our feet as we simultaneously pull out our phones. It’s a text from Gail.
Incident. Code 140.
At a motel quite close to the club.
* * *
The closer we get to Room 204, the more I can sense something is wrong.
It stinks like viscera in the air. Zayn can feel it as well, seeing as he keeps the receptionist behind him and out of sight from what’s beyond the door. She lingers behind us, a shadow in the dimly lit hallway. I can sense her fear, it clings to her like a cloak.
A sense of dread washes over me, strong enough to almost make me take a step backward. The hallway leading up to room 204 is littered with dilapidated doors that hang off their hinges, barely attached to their frames. The air is thick with the stench of decay.
As I turn the knob, I’m reminded of how this job’s surprises seem to creep up on me. And how the surprises seemed horribly ironic.
A missing case in this city usually runs cold. Rykard himself often used to tell me back in the day. I got lucky finding Holly, and that was thanks to Aria. What I see beyond the door to the room reminds of what the alternative could’ve been.
The doorknob’s cold and slick, my pulse quickening with every turn beneath my gloved hand. As the door creaks open, I brace myself for the worst.
The room’s suffused with a crimson glow, the walls and floor coated with a thick layer of blood. The bed in the center is a ghoulish sight, a pristine white sheet stained with the same thick, red fluid covering the rest of the space. Flower petals are scattered around the bed, their bright colors standing out against the backdrop of gore.
A shiver runs down my spine as I step inside, my eyes scanning the room for any sign of life. But there’s nothing, only the oppressive silence of death. The scene before me is a macabre tableau, a nightmare brought to life. And at the very center of that harrowing sight sits a red envelope, recently opened and suspiciously clean.
I move forward, carefully stepping around the splatters of blood. Stopping to tug my gloves a little higher, I pick it up, finding the letter inside is pristine and white, although wrinkled up as though an attempt was made to throw it away.
I’m lost for a second as to whether I should read the letter first or check inside the room. Making a decision, I carefully place the letter back. The longer I’m in the presence of the bloodied bed and the red-stained walls, the more I know someone faced unimagined horrors in their final moments.
I was no saint myself, but this murder’s in particularly bad taste. It’s sickening. Harrowing right into the depths of my stomach.
“Who the hell did this?” I growl.
Zayn steps forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his gun. He’s ready for whatever lies ahead, but I can tell he’s jarred by the scene before us. The receptionist makes the mistake of following in after him, drawing in a sharp breath as she averts her eyes in horror.
I hear the sound of water splashing, much like a shower running on the other side of the door to my left. Zayn tugs on black gloves as I remove my firearm, now calm and focused. I nod at him, ready.
