by C. A. Harms
Kim, too, looked around for any sign that someone had been there since the last time she herself was.
“It all looks the same,” Elle said as she walked back toward me, frowning in defeat. She moved past me and sat on the end cushion of her couch, fisting her hands nervously in her lap.
I knew I shouldn’t go to her, because that would be so far from professional, but I did it anyway. I sat at her side, so close I could feel her pressed against me, then pulled her even closer. When she came without hesitation and laid her head on my shoulder, I let out a deep, satisfied breath, feeling as if she’d claimed every spot she touched.
And as she sat there, I heard her breathe me in. Instead of worrying me, it made me feel settled.
“We’ll figure this out,” I assured her as I allowed my body to relax closer to hers. Her hair tickled my nose, but instead of leaning away, I moved in closer and closed my eyes, taking in the scent. The smell of coconut engulfed me. “I promise we’ll find the man that did this.”
I wanted to keep that promise more than any one I’d ever made.
We remained in that position for a long time, and when I opened my eyes, I found Kim watching us closely from only a few feet away.
“It’s not just a job, Detective,” she said with a smirk I couldn’t ignore. “Trust me.”
She walked away looking fairly pleased with herself. I swear she was the female Lexington. Though it was scary as shit to think that two versions of him existed, I was happy Elle had someone like Kim in her life.
“Hey, Elle.” I looked to my left as Kim walked back into the living room carrying what looked like a picture frame. “Didn’t you have that picture of you and me from Hawaii a couple years ago sitting on the hutch in the kitchen?”
“Yes.” Elle pulled away from me and turned to look at her. “In that frame with the seashells around it.”
I looked between them as Kim turned the frame around to face Elle. It was surrounded by shells, but there was no picture inside.
Elle hurried from the couch and took the frame as if she thought that by looking at it closer, the photo would somehow reappear.
“Are you sure that’s the frame that held the picture?” I asked as I stood and moved toward them.
“It’s been in this frame since the moment I bought it at the airport.” She looked up at me with glossy eyes. “Why would anybody break into someone’s apartment, take one single photo and watch that person sleep, then leave without saying a word? He didn't even react when he saw me reach for my phone. An intruder, you would think, would attempt to stop someone from calling the police, but instead he just left. Like he didn't care that he may be caught, or that whomever I was calling may have been someone in the building who could’ve gotten here before he escaped.”
“I need to make a call,” I said, excusing myself without waiting for them to ask any questions. I moved into the kitchen where I was sure I was far enough away that they couldn’t hear me and took out my phone. I didn't want to alarm Elle, but I had suspicions I needed to follow up on.
“Beck, where are you?” Carl asked, and I could tell he was eating something. He was always eating something.
“I’m following a few leads on the break-ins over on 32nd,” I told him, ignoring the chewing in my ear. “I need you to look into something for me.”
“You got it,” he said before swallowing hard.
“The initial break-in, the one in Andrew Picton’s apartment, just seems off. There’s something about that guy that’s not right.”
“You thinking what I think you’re thinking?” he asked, and I heard the smile in his voice.
“Look into his background,” I said. “I want everything you can find on him. I want to know where the guy went to high school, whether he played football or baseball. I want to know his family and what kind of life he lived prior to taking up residence in this building.”
“I’m on it,” he assured me, then ended the call.
I remained where I was with my back to the dining room. I wasn't sure if this was just wishful thinking, but something about the occupant of 5B was odd.
“Do you think Andrew did this?”
I spun around quickly to find Elle standing a few feet away with a shocked look on her face.
“I don’t know anything for sure yet,” I said, stepping closer. “But I just have to check things out. I don't know what it is, call it instinct, but I just feel like this guy is unstable. The way he reacted when you rejected his offer downstairs wasn't normal.”
She looked at the floor, and I placed my finger beneath her chin and forced it upward, needing her to hold her head high. I wouldn't let this break her.
“I don’t know how well you know this guy, or how long the two of you were an item, but—”
She shook her head. “I only met him the night before I went to Risqué. He seemed nice and we talked for hours. We went out to dinner a few nights after that, but that was all. Nothing more,” she assured me. “He doesn’t really seem like the type of person to do something like this.”
The way she defended him irritated me. Was she naive enough to believe that one date would let her know whether this jackass was dangerous?
“That’s all that happened because he was a freak and practically assaulted her against her front door,” Kim said, surprising both Elle and I.
“Is that true?” I asked, now feeling even more sure about my suspicions.
Elle rolled her eyes. “No, he kissed me, and when he moved in for more, I panicked a bit. It was most likely me freaking out because I don't date, or have random sex with—” Her eyes widened and she blushed, as if she’d just realized what she was saying. “One date, one kiss, that’s it,” she said resolutely, squaring her shoulders and looking back at me with determination. “We aren't an item; we never were. And even if this break-in hadn’t happened, I still would have had no intentions of going on another date with Andrew.”
That confession should have made me happy, but I was only irritated that he’d even had the opportunity to kiss her that one time.
SHANELLE
“I think the detective has an ulterior motive for solving this case.” Kim brushed past me as I gathered more things from my bedroom. “He’s hoping for a little something to come from being the hero to save you.”
“I think you’ve been reading too many romance novels,” I said without looking at her.
Beckett was in the living room discussing his suspicions with his commander, and all I wanted to do was gather all I could and get out of here. I wasn’t sure I could stomach running into Andrew again, especially after Beckett had voiced his concerns about him. If we did, Kim would unload on him, and this needed to be handled by the authorities and not my sassy best friend.
“No detective I’ve ever seen has comforted a victim or showed as much interest as our friendly detective has in you,” Kim said. “You can pretend you don't feel it too. That’s fine and it keeps things interesting, but I’m gonna call it like I see it. That man in the other room is interested in you in an intimate way. He was the night he saw you at the club and he definitely is now.”
There was a knock on the bedroom door, and I turned around just as it opened and Beckett came into view.
“You ladies about ready to get out of here?” he asked, and I nodded. “Okay, I’ll just wait in the other room.” He didn't move, though. Instead, he stood in the open doorway staring back at me. No matter how hard I tried to look away, I couldn’t. Because Beckett Montgomery was hard to ignore. With each moment I spent with him, the pull between us grew even more intense. The need to be close to him was overpowering because he made me feel safe. I knew keeping me safe was his job, but it seemed to matter so much more to him than that. The way he hovered and spoke in a gentle, reassuring tone only made dealing with the craziness going on around me easier.
Whether Kim was right, or whether Beckett really was just here to solve this case, I needed this safety net. I needed to feel like soon this would
all be over and I’d have my life back. I didn’t know whether my life would have Beckett Montgomery in it after that, but I kinda hoped he’d stick around.
“We’ll be right out,” I whispered more than said.
With a nod, he pulled the bedroom door shut, and I sagged toward the bed, suddenly feeling as if my body was made of jelly.
“I told you,” Kim said smugly, arching a brow as I looked up at her. “That man is doing a hell of a lot more than just his job and you know it.”
This time I didn't argue. I just accepted that our domineering detective just may have an interest in little ol’ me.
“So what next?” I asked as Beckett sat down in the chair across from me at the coffee shop, handing me my cup of coffee. Kim sat at my side, looking back at him with equal curiosity.
“I have one of my colleagues looking into Andrew’s past.” Something about his mood had shifted. He looked irritated.
“He’s from Minnesota,” I said, remembering the way Andrew went on about his family the first night we hung out. It was weird to think that someone that showed such love for his family could be capable of such a crazy act.
“I thought you barely knew one another?” Beckett asked, and I couldn't determine if he was intrigued or annoyed.
“He briefly mentioned a few things in general conversation,” I said and ignored the way Kim was nudging my leg with hers. I didn’t have to look at her to know she was basically saying, “I told you so.” Beckett was irritated at the thought of Andrew and I spending any time together, even if we’d just been talking. I moved my leg away from hers and Beckett watched me closely, which I took as an indication to continue. “He has two older brothers and one younger sister,” I said with a shrug as if I hadn’t noticed a change in his attitude. “And his father is a surgeon, I think. That’s really all he shared.”
“Hmm,” Beckett grunted as he continued to stare at me.
“Hmm,” I repeated. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I can assure you he lied about at least half of what he told you. And something is telling me that once this background check comes back to us, we’ll see he lied about more than just being from Minnesota.” Beckett’s nostrils flared as he gripped his coffee cup tighter.
“So he’s not from Minnesota?” I asked, and he only stared back at me as if he hadn't heard me speak, which irritated me. “Maybe he didn't say Minnesota. The club was loud and I could have misheard him.”
“I think instead of defending a man that could be a crazed maniac, you need to worry about yourself. You need to be a little more careful about who you choose to spend time with,” he said harshly, and my stomach tensed.
“Are you actually insinuating this break-in is all my fault?” I asked, offended.
“No,” he said, sounding unaffected that I had raised my voice a little louder than I should've. “I’m just stating the fact that a woman should be a little more observant when going out alone with a stranger. And she most definitely should not be so gullible as to believe every word he says.”
Suddenly I felt like Detective Asshole really wasn't the nice guy I thought he was.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said as I pushed my coffee cup toward him. “I think I should reevaluate who I choose to spend my time with, at least when it comes to those of the opposite sex. Starting right now.” I stood from my chair.
Beckett lifted his head, watching my movements closely. His smirk only further pissed me off.
“I’ve decided arrogant assholes are the first to go.” I glared at him. “I guess that means I have no further reason to be in your presence. Do your job, Detective, because regardless of my gullible behavior or not, that prick was not invited into my home at any point in time.”
I stormed off without giving him a chance to speak. Frankly I didn't give two shits about what he had to say. In my opinion he’d already said too much. How dare he even consider that this was my fault?
BECKETT
As I watched Elle storm out of the coffee shop, I regretted my harsh words, but only for a split second because, damn it, she needed to be more careful. And if making her mad at me forced her to do so, then it was worth it. She’d get over it eventually, and next time she’d be a little more observant.
“Nice job, Slick.”
I shifted my body in the chair so I was facing forward again. I completely expected Kim to be giving me a death glare but was surprised to see her smiling instead. “I’m pretty sure that’s not the way to show you’re interested in a woman.”
“I’m not int—”
She held up her hand. “Yeah, right. I know, it’s your job,” she said sarcastically. “But I”—she pointed at herself—”am not gullible, and I’m not buying your shit. Elle has a good heart, she’s kind and caring, and, yes, at times that can be a fault of hers, especially when creeps realize how trusting she truly is. It’s the way of the world; you know it and I know it. There are predators and assholes everywhere.”
Kim stood and leaned over to brace her hands on the table, forcing me to look directly at her. “Don’t be one of those assholes, Detective.” She didn't wait for me to respond before turning and leaving the coffee shop.
And then the guilt set in. I could have handled that differently, but the idea of Elle with any man irritated me more than it had a right to.
“Fuck,” I said, and heard a grumbling, displeased noise behind me. I turned in my chair and found an older woman looking at me as if I was the devil himself. “Sorry,” I said before turning back around, feeling like my grandma had just scolded me.
My phone ringing in my pocket pulled me from my stupor and I scrambled for it. Seeing Carl’s name on the screen made my pulse quicken.
“What do you got for me?” I asked, praying like hell he had something that would send me down the right path to settle this shit. I didn't like feeling so unsteady, and right now I felt like I was tied in knots. “And if you tell me this guy is squeaky-clean, let me just warn you, I’m not in the best of moods.”
“More like dirty as fuck,” Carl said.
I stood and hurried outside, out of earshot of the older woman I’d already irritated once.
“How dirty?” I asked when I was clear of an audience.
“Let’s start with the fact Andrew Picton was once known as Andrew Spangler. He comes from a little town in Iowa called Le Claire.” He paused for only a moment. “He lost his father to a drug overdose when he was only four. After that his mom lost her shit and he ended up living with his grandparents until he turned eighteen.”
My irritation grew with each bit of information he offered. I knew the guy was off. I could feel it that night at the club when I saw him touching my girl.
My heart raced when I realized I’d referred to Elle as mine.
“He changed his last name after he left home and proceeded to move around a lot,” Carl continued. “He lived in Maine, Vegas, and a few other places before settling here in New York. He had a couple stalking cases filed against him, but after restraining orders were issued, he’d disappear and move on to the next place.”
“Stalking women, I presume,” I said, already knowing the answer.
“Yeah,” Carl replied. “It appears our man does not like to be told no.”
“I’m on my way in,” I said before I ended the call and walked toward my car that was parked half a block away.
I wanted to go through these reports with a fine-tooth comb. I wanted to know everything about his past before going to him. And when I approached this guy, I wanted him to know I knew exactly who he was and there was nothing he could hide from me any longer.
I’d spent hours combing through the reports Carl had on Picton. The lies he’d told Elle and whomever else he’d come in contact with over the years were there in black and white.
Andrew Spangler graduated from Pleasant Valley High School in Le Claire, Iowa, in the class of 2006. Since then he’d moved to fifteen different locations all under the name of Andrew Pi
cton, his mother’s maiden name.
The first report against him was filed six months after he graduated. A young college student stated he’d been following her around campus and watching her between classes. Shortly after she went to the police, Andrew moved on to his next location.
It was alarming that he’d done this for years without getting arrested. The problem was that he was always careful not to go further than stalking. He’d push the woman to her breaking point, then step back as soon as she reported him.
It was like he got off on causing fear.
It was disturbing. And sick.
Even worse, this man had been alone with Elle—in his car, even—and anything could have happened.
My stomach ached and acid rose in my throat as I thought of how he could have taken advantage of her. The images rolling through my mind only made it harder to remain seated as I continued to analyze the facts before me.
Another disturbing fact was that he’d been fired as an architect at Royce and Lighter over six months ago, which made me wonder what he’d been doing for money since. All this information sent up one red flag after another when I backtracked to review the notes on what he’d told us during his earlier interview after his apartment was broken into. Every word he’d spoke to Elle and anyone else regarding his life contradicted the documentation before me.
Apologizing to Elle for my earlier behavior would have to wait, because I planned to gather everything I could on this prick and take him down before he had the chance to hurt anyone. Especially my Elle.
SHANELLE
“He’s an arrogant asshole,” I said as I flopped down on the couch next to Kim.
She and Rick were in the middle of watching a movie, but they muted it when I barged in after deciding I’d stewed in my room long enough. I had to vent, because if I didn’t, I swear I would have exploded.
“How dare he act like this was my fault?” I said as I leaned back against the couch cushions and pulled a small pillow into my lap, then held it tightly against me. “How the hell was I to know Andrew was a crazy person? I mean, you met him.” I waved my hand toward Kim and found that she was trying not to laugh at my behavior and Rick was staring at me blankly, because he’d never seen me in such an uproar before.