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“Maybe,” I replied. “But I doubt it. After they get forensics in there, if that’s even where it happened, the next of kin is the person who cleans the victim’s apartment out. Doesn’t look like this guy had a lot of friends or family, so it won’t look super sketchy if we’re there.”
“Okay,” Sofia said, taking a deep breath. “What do you know about this guy?”
I looked down at the information Jace had sent me. “His name is Brady Thompson. Well, was, I guess. He was thirty-two years old, single, gay. Self-employed. He worked from home as a translator.”
“Anything else?” Victor said.
I scanned through the rest of the information. “No criminal record, no known enemies. Apparently, he was known to be a bit of a recluse, kept to himself most of the time. No close friends either.” I held up a photo of Brady Thompson for Sofia and Victor to see. “This is what he looks like.”
Sofia frowned. “That doesn’t tell us much. We need something that connects him to someone who might have a motive to frame Sam.”
Victor leaned forward, his voice low. “Maybe we should start by looking into his client list. As a translator, he must have had clients from all walks of life. We might find something there.”
I nodded in agreement. “Good idea. We’ll start there and see if anything stands out.”
We walked into the apartment building, up a set of stairs and then down the hallway until we found his apartment door, 12A.
I looked in both directions before Victor got to work on the lock. He grimaced as he kneeled down, clearly in pain. But he made quick work of the lock and soon we were in Brady’s apartment.
The air inside the apartment was stale, the scent of neglect and decay wrapping around us like a shroud. I flicked on the lights, revealing a small, unkempt space cluttered with stacks of papers and books. Victor winced as he straightened up, his hand lightly grazing his injured knee. Sofia took a step forward, her eyes scanning the room, searching for any clues that might unravel the mystery surrounding her brother.
“Wait here,” I said, my hand on my gun. “Just need to make sure this is all clear.”
I walked through the apartment, my senses on high alert. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the distant sound of traffic outside.
Returning to the living room, I gave Sofia and Victor a nod to let them know it was safe to enter. Sofia took a hesitant step forward, her eyes narrowing as she took in the disarray of Brady’s belongings.
“Looks like someone made a mess,” she said.
Victor shrugged. “Maybe Brady was a messy guy.”
I shook my head. “No, this looks deliberate. It’s not just clutter, it’s chaos.” I knelt down to examine the papers on the floor, sifting through them carefully. “And it looks like someone was searching for something.”
“God, it’s like he’s still here,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Keep your voice down,” I cautioned, my eyes scanning the chaos of the room. Papers strewn about like afterthoughts, furniture upturned – a snapshot of struggle frozen in time.
“I can’t believe my father...” Her words trailed off, the unspoken horrors too weighty to bear.
“Your father might have had nothing to do with this.”
Her head snapped up. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
I didn’t, but she didn’t need to hear it. “Focus on what we can do now.” My hand found hers, squeezing tight to tether her to the present. “We find something to clear Sam, that’s our mission.”
I moved through the apartment, senses on high alert, my mind cataloging every detail. A shattered picture frame, the glass like daggers of ice catching the scant light; a bookshelf, its contents spilled out haphazardly, hiding...something.
“Here,” Sofia said, crouching down. She held up a flash drive, almost lost in the sea of debris. “Could this be it?”
“Maybe,” I said. “But why would they have just left this on the floor?”
I reached out to take the flash drive from Sofia’s hand, my fingers grazing against hers in the process. It was a small, inconspicuous device that could hold a wealth of information. Something about it felt important, significant even. I turned it over, examining it closely for any signs of tampering or anything of the sort. “I think we better give this to Jace,” I said. “Let’s not count our victories yet.”
Victor, who had been quietly observing our exchange, chimed in. “We should also make sure we don’t leave any traces behind. We don’t want anyone tracing our steps back here. We should...”
He quieted down as he heard something. “Wait. Can you guys hear that?”
“Hear what?” Sofia asked.
