by C. A. Harms
“Does that mean you’ll go out with me again?” he said with a smirk. “Because that, to me, sounds like you’re willing to let us get to know one another better.”
I stared at him for a moment without speaking.
How did he get that out of what I just said?
“I’m thinking the next date should be at my place. I’ll cook you dinner,” he said as he moved in and skimmed his lips over my cheek. “You can choose dessert.”
I caught the innuendo loud and clear. As if Kim could hear me internally screaming out to be rescued, my phone began to ring in my clutch. I hurried to grab it, and in the process Andrew stepped back.
“Hello,” I said in a rush. I had never been so happy to hear the ridiculous SpongeBob SquarePants ringtone she set for herself.
“How was the date?” she chirped.
I looked up at Andrew and wasn’t fazed by the disappointment on his face.
“I’ve got to take this,” I said, covering the speaker with my hand. “So sorry, but we’ll talk soon.”
I didn't wait for him to answer me as I unlocked my door and hurried inside, then closed and locked it behind me. My heart pounded and my hands shook as I sagged back against the door. I had completely forgotten about Kim until her loud, panicked voice penetrated the humming in my ears.
“Shanelle,” she said, breathing heavily. “Rick, I need you,” she hollered, and I snapped out of my daze.
“No, I’m okay.”
“Thank God, I thought you were being attacked or something. You scared the holy hell out of me, damn it, Elle,” she lectured.
I took in a deep breath and waited a moment before I started to explain. “The night was great until we got back here and he flipped the switch.”
“Flipped the—”
“Switch, yeah.”
“What did he do, Elle?” Her earlier alarmed voice took on a concerned tone. “Do I need to have Rick bring me over so I can beat the asshole senseless with a nine iron?”
I laughed, and it felt good after the rush of adrenaline I’d experienced only moments ago.
“I’m serious.”
“Oh, I know,” I assured her. “He just thought tonight was a whole lot more than it was. He’s somehow convinced himself we have this connection, and I just don't feel it. Yes, he’s nice, but that’s it.”
“Not sparks?” she asked.
“Definitely. Not even a flicker,” I stated as I pushed off the door and walked toward my bedroom.
“Are you sure you don't need me to come over? I can tell Rick he’s on his own tonight and we could stay up all night talking about what a douche your neighbor is. Then we can paint fuckwad on his door in the middle of the night.” She laughed. “Or we could leave a burning pile of dog shit in front of it—or maybe not. The fire alarms and the sprinklers would go off, and that would lead to one hell of a mess.”
“Kim, I love you,” I told her, “but I’m fine. I just need a long shower and my bed.”
My feet were killing me, and my back felt as if it would split in two if I moved one more inch. An eight-hour shift had turned into almost eleven. It was my fault really, because I couldn't leave the sweet little old man that just needed a friend. I clocked out at my scheduled time and then went to sit by his bed for three additional hours, just visiting. It broke my heart how he’d accepted that his time on this earth was almost at an end, yet he had no one else to share his last moments with.
I sat at his side as he shared stories of his amazing life. He’d never married, but he had many tales of the lovely women he’d met over the years. He kept the stories about them clean and sweet, which I was thankful for.
Leaving him that night was hard. In only a day, I’d fallen in love with Marlin Reece, and when I left the hospital that night, knowing I might not see him again hurt.
The emotional toll this job took on me was the hardest part. Kimmy had said a number of times that my heart was too big for trauma, and I’d have to agree. Because each time I was given my next patient, I fell all over again. The compassionate part of me battled with the realities of my job almost every moment of every day. I wanted to fix my patients, and not just physically. I wanted to make their hearts whole, even if it was just for a moment. I felt like I needed that peace as much as I believed they did.
Tonight was one of those nights when I just wanted to go home, put on some soft music, open up a bottle of wine, and soak in the tub until my aches subsided. The ride home on the subway was complete chaos. The loud, excessive talking and laughter made me crave the quietness of my apartment even more.
Flashing blue-and-red lights in front of my apartment building was the last thing I wanted to see when I rounded the corner.
Barney, the sweet older man who lived in 1B, saw me approaching and motioned for me to join him as he stood near the door, quietly allowing the police to move in and out of my building.
“What’s going on?” I asked as I moved in closer, tucking my light jacket around me to shield my body from the coolness of the night.
“Seems there was a break-in on your floor,” he said as he leaned against the pillar near the door and stared ahead. “Not your place, sweetheart, but one of your neighbors.”
My stomach tensed. One of the things I loved about my building was that it always felt so safe. I never worried about random acts of violence or robberies. Its security system was one of its best features and made the choice to move in that much easier.
“Who?”
“Andrew Picton,” he said, and my pulse quickened as I looked up at my building, which no longer felt like a safe haven.
“They think it was someone that lives in the building,” Barney said. “They’ve checked the cameras, and nothing seems out of the ordinary. Nothing that stood out to them as suspicious behavior. No deliveries unaccounted for or guests that were unverified.”
“What about the elevators or the stairways?” I asked hopefully. I didn’t want to think about living next to a burglar.
He shook his head. “That is the crazy thing.” Barney turned to face me. “The camera at the end of your hall, the one near Mr. Picton’s apartment, was damaged, and so were those on the stairwells on floor four, three, and so on. It was like whoever did it knew exactly where the cameras were and how to make sure they wouldn’t be caught. Like they were given a rundown of the building’s security system somehow, like we were given when we moved in. Not many who would walk in off the streets would know the set-up, which also gives the police more reason to believe it could be someone who lives here,” he finished as we watched the police move in and out of the building. The building manager stood close to the two cops that wore badges at their waists. They weren’t wearing uniforms, so I wondered if they were detectives or plainclothes police. They both had their backs to me as they took notes on what the manager was saying.
“I think I’m gonna stay with a friend tonight,” I said as I stepped back from Barney and began searching through my bag for my phone. I no longer had the urge to dim the lights and soak in my garden tub.
“Let me hail you a cab, sweetheart,” he insisted as he led me toward the curb. “Are you going to stay with Miss Walters?” he asked, probably already knowing the answer. Barney lived here when Kimmy and I moved in, and we formed a bond with him almost instantly.
He held his hand to his mouth and whistled loudly just as a cab slowed before coming to a stop at the curb next to us.
“You get some rest, Elle, and let these men get this matter settled.” He patted my shoulder as I climbed inside the cab and offered him a reassuring smile, even though I felt anything but settled.
BECKETT
“Why are you so cranky?” Carl asked as he sat down at his desk across from mine, a cup of coffee in one hand and a Cinnabon in the other. “Who pissed you off?”
“That’d be the jackass that decided to do an inside hit on an apartment building,” I said as I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my hand over the stubble on my jaw. “I stayed u
p half the damn night looking through security videos and going through an apartment that had been trashed.”
“Any leads?” he asked before taking another bite of his sticky bun.
“No,” I said, feeling disappointed. Nothing pissed me off more than a dead end. “Just a lot of concerned residents looking for answers.” I’d truly been at it all night, yet I was still at square one. Something didn't seem right about any of it.
I had busted my ass over the years to become one of the highest-ranked detectives in the area, and I prided myself on my ability to do a job well. I didn't know how to handle failure. It wasn't in my nature.
I’d spent my life trying to live up to my brothers’ successes. Ashton outranked us all by far, because that guy was a fucking genius. He could take a dollar and turn it into millions, and he was still thriving. Knoxville was the second son and by far the most stubborn of us, but the guy knew his shit. He found the police force to restricting, so he opened up his own private investigating firm. Now he had the police and everyone else coming to him for help. I think they realized fast that it was a mistake to let him go. He was so damn skilled that at times it was scary how easily he was able to see through the eyes of a criminal and solve a case. He made it seem effortless.
And then there was me, the youngest son who grew up idolizing his two older brothers, but I’d never admit that now.
I loved the thrill of the search. The excitement of catching the criminal and bringing them down was the best kind of rush. The adrenaline pumping through my veins and my heart racing a mile a minute was an extraordinary feeling.
So the need to solve this case was consuming me. I wanted nothing more than to find the asshole that decided terrorizing their neighbors was acceptable.
“Montgomery.” I looked up to see my commanding officer standing in the doorway of his office. “My office,” he barked in his usual tone. The guy was an asshole, but he was dedicated, experienced, and great at what he did, and we all respected him. I knew he wanted a briefing on the findings of last night, and he wouldn’t be pleased when I didn’t have much to tell him.
I gathered my things and walked toward his office, fully prepared to get my ass reamed, but he surprised me.
“There’s been another incident,” he said as I stepped past him and farther into the room.
I turned to face him as he shut his office door behind me and walked around the side of his desk before taking a seat.
“At the building on 32nd,” he added. “There’s been a report of another break-in. Another tenant came home to find their door ajar. The building manager just called it in.”
“Was anything missing?” I asked.
“No,” he stated. “The manager can’t verify that the tenant didn't just leave the door open by mistake. But with recent events, we thought it would be better if we checked things out.”
I nodded in complete agreement.
“I think everyone is still worried, which is completely understandable, so I had Murphy go over to take a look.”
“This is my case,” I said, sounding a little more pissed off than I intended. “Sir,” I added for safe measure.
“I’m aware of that and so is Murphy.” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his desk. “But you’re already going on twenty-four hours straight and you need a breather. Since there was no visible destruction, I felt it was safe to send Murphy.”
I nodded but I wanted to argue.
“He’ll report back to you,” he assured me, making me feel no better about the intrusion. “Go home, get some rest, and report back in a few hours.”
It wasn't a suggestion, and I knew better than to continue pushing him.
I tried to rest as he directed, but it was impossible. I sat in my apartment, staring out the window at the busy street below, and my brain just wouldn't stop. After close to two hours of running scenario after scenario through my mind, I decided I couldn't do as my commander asked. Backing down and allowing someone else to take care of my case wasn't like me. I wasn’t a wingman, I was the fucking captain.
I found myself back on 32nd, knocking on the door of the first apartment that’d been broken into. I wasn't the detective that had questioned the tenant last night, but I felt I needed to follow up.
When the door finally opened, I was instantly irritated at the man staring back at me. It was the same man that led the blonde from Risqué away as if he had some claim on her.
“Can I help you?” he asked smugly, and I wanted to punch him in the fucking face for his attitude. And for that night as well.
A guy like him didn't deserve a beauty like her.
“I’m Detective Montgomery,” I stated as I showed him my badge. “I have a few questions about the break-in last night.”
“I already spoke with a detective, and I assume he can pass on the information to you.” He began to close the door, but I stuck my foot in its path, keeping it ajar. He narrowed his eyes and let go of the door, allowing me to open it farther. “What, did they send in the grunt agent to clean things up while the seniors sit back and smoke cigars?”
I chuckled as I stepped inside. This guy was a fucking prick. “Actually, I’m the head detective on this case,” I said, turning around to slowly scan the room before my stare settled on him. “I’ve got some follow-up questions of my own, to fill in some gaps in the story, so to speak.”
“Gaps,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “What type of gaps? My apartment was broken into. Some very valuable, irreplaceable items were taken from me that will be greatly missed. My grandfather’s Rolex, one he gave to me when I graduated college, gone.”
This guy was something else. Who the fuck did he think he was?
“A Rolex,” I repeated as I continued to look around the room. The place felt sterile. No pictures of family or friends anywhere, nothing indicating the guy had anyone in his life but his asshole self. The walls were empty and white, and there was no color anywhere, as if no one actually lived in the place.
“Yes, a Rolex,” he repeated, his voice laced with annoyance.
“Like that one?” I pointed toward the watch on his wrist. A look of panic flickered over his features before he quickly recovered.
“A little like this one, yes. But much more valuable, as it carried sentimental value. You should be out looking for clues, finding the person that took my things,” he said, taking a step forward and placing his hands on his hips. “What you should not be doing is standing in my living room interrogating me when I am the victim here.”
“Is there someone that can verify your whereabouts last night?” I asked, and his pissy expression morphed into one of anger. I wanted to laugh at just how reddened his cheeks grew.
This was gonna brighten my mood tremendously.
“You’ve got to fucking be kidding me. I was working late at the office on some sketches. It is when I get my best work done. Without interruption,” he snarled. “You have a lot of nerve insinuating I had something to do with demolishing my own apartment.”
“‘Demolishing’ is a little bit of a stretch, don’t you think?” I asked, still unaffected by his attitude. I was actually enjoying the rise this was getting from him. Call me an asshole, but I didn't like this fucker for the simple fact that he’d been the one to leave with Elle that night. He didn't deserve to be the man that got to hold her and kiss her.
“Yes, when someone enters someone else’s apartment uninvited and shuffles through their belongings, taking things that don't belong to them, that in my eyes in demolishing. It is a violation of my privacy.”
I wanted to roll my eyes, but I knew how unprofessional that would be. But I couldn’t keep the smirk off my face and when I saw the anger it caused flash in Andrew’s eyes, I almost laughed at the fact I obviously got to the guy so easily. I found it extremely satisfying. I was able to control my laughter, though, and instead I just stared at him, waiting for him to continue.
“You’re actually standing there, silently blaming me fo
r what took place, aren’t you?” I only crossed my arms over my chest and weighed his reaction. “What the hell would stealing my own things and filing a false police report accomplish?”
In all the years I’ve questioned suspects and victims, I’d never wanted to laugh at their reactions until now. This guy was a mess, and he was slowly falling apart. He raised his hands only to bring them down to his sides again. Deep, displeased huffs of breath escaped him as his chest heaved in and out, and I think I counted six times he attempted to talk before he actually spoke words once again.
“I need you to do your job, Detective.” His nostrils flared, and I wanted him to make a move. To give me one more reason to doubt him and his spotty story.
“We’ll be in touch, Mr. Picton,” I said as I uncrossed my arms and stood tall. “Very soon.”
I didn't trust this guy.
SHANELLE
“Are you sure you’re ready to come back here?” Kim asked as she followed me through the entrance of my building. “Because you know you’re more than welcome to stay with Rick and I for as long as you want.”
My stomach tensed as she rambled on behind me, and that tension only grew with each step I took. But four days of invading my best friend and her fiancé’s privacy was long enough.
“It was just a random act,” I stated, still not sure I believed it myself, but that was what the building manager had told the concerned tenants. He’d assured us we had nothing to worry about. The police have ruled it as unsolved, and though they would keep the case open, there was truly nothing more they could do now. They had nothing to go on that pinpointed any specific person, and there was no second occurrence, just a paranoid lady that didn't shut her door all the way. So returning home was the right thing to do.
“It’s time to get back to normal. I can’t keep hiding out at your place,” I said with a brave face.