Footsteps in the Dark

by Josh Lanyon

  “Also, let’s not forget, the danger was supposed to be exaggerated. As far as we all knew, Benji wasn’t an actual threat to Dale or anyone.”

  “Right.” I opened my laptop and pulled up the surveillance video. “Jax, can you identify these two men?” Jax stood and came around the desk to lean over me. His masculine cologne hit my nostrils, and my pulse twittered annoyingly. “That guy who’s with the cop.” I pointed to my screen. “He got the door open somehow.”

  Jax put his hand on the back of my chair, and his chest brushed my back. “That’s Lee Price. He’s my head set designer.”

  “Any bad blood between you and him?”

  “Not at all. I just went to his kid’s birthday party a week ago.” He glanced down at me, his gray eyes sincere.

  “Hmm.” I searched the video until I found the guy who’d shut the door after cleaning the cage. “What about this guy?”

  The heat of his body returned as he leaned in. “Ben Willoughby. He works maintenance. I don’t know him that well. He’s kind of quiet, and he just does his job.”

  “Does the studio do background checks on employees?”

  “Yes.” Jax straightened.

  “You don’t have to have a record to commit a crime.” Andy crossed his legs and bobbed his foot up and down.

  “Very true.” I pointed at Andy. “When you get back to the office, check to see if either Ben or Lee are affiliated with animal rights groups. In fact, check if anyone on the crew is tied to animal rights groups.” I closed my laptop.

  “Will do.” Andy stood. “Some of those animal lovers can get pretty militant.”

  “Well, in all fairness, animals can’t exactly speak up for themselves, now can they?” Jax interjected.

  I smirked. “Spoken like a true animal fanatic.”

  “Stating the obvious doesn’t make me a fanatic.” Jax’s gaze was challenging. “Besides, I thought you loved little fuzzy kittens.”

  Andy guffawed. “Since when?”

  My face felt hot, and I avoided looking either of them in the eye. I cleared my throat and put on my serious face as I addressed Jax. “You said three people knew how to program the keypad.”

  “Yeah, Lee, from the video.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. “And I’m pretty sure Tim Sloan could as well. But Tim went out on disability a few days ago. He had back surgery.”

  I frowned. “You sure that’s legit?”

  “He posted a photo from his hospital bed a day ago. I don’t think he could fake that, right?” Jax wrinkled his brow.

  “Probably not. We’ll check it out to be sure he’s where he’s supposed to be. Who’s the third person?”

  “Trevor Quinton. He’s my PA.” Jax lifted his chin. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “He loves me. We’ve been friends for years.”

  I narrowed my gaze. “Does he love, love you?” Jilted lovers were notoriously common suspects.

  Jax’s cheeks pinkened. “We had a thing in college, but it didn’t last. We’re better as friends.”

  “And you both agree on that?” I took in his uneasy demeanor. “Sometimes one person wants to pull the plug and the other still wants more.”

  Jax arched his brows. “Speaking from experience, Detective Decker? Are you a serial heartbreaker?”

  His sardonic tone irked me. Maybe men like him didn’t fall all over themselves to be with guys like me, but I definitely did okay in the romance department when I bothered to put myself out there. “We’re talking about you and Trevor.”

  “There were some hurt feelings, and then he was fine.”

  The line of his jaw was tight, making me suspect he felt guilty about what happened with Trevor. That and his reticence to talk about it. “I think I’d like to speak with him all the same.”

  He shrugged. “I assumed you’d talk to everyone. I’m sure he’s expecting it.”

  “I’ll need the video from the Friday night run-through, so I can see if we have someone on camera fiddling with the keypad.”

  “Almost every person working on the show was there. The set was packed.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll focus on the keypad and the time the code changed.”

  “Okay. I’ll have the footage delivered to you in an hour. You’re hanging out at the studio, right?”

  “Yeah.” I still needed to interview people, and it was easier staying on the lot during work hours than fighting traffic back and forth.

  Jax’s phone rang on his desk, and he jumped. Laughing sheepishly, he said, “I’m a little tense these days.”

  “That’s understandable.” I stood.

  Jax took the call, and I headed toward the door. As I reached for the knob, the door opened abruptly, and a guy walked in talking on his cell. When he saw me, he stopped in his tracks and told the person on the phone he had to go. He smoothed a hand over his immaculate blond hair as his gaze traveled over my wrinkled suit jacket. “You must be Detective Decker. I’m Trevor Quinton.”

  I held out my hand, and we shook. His grip was damp. “You’re just the man I wanted to see.”

  “I figured you’d come gunning for me eventually.” His voice was stiff.

  “I have to talk to everybody.”

  “Of course.” His cell rang, and he looked apologetic. “I’m a little busy at the moment. Do you think we could do this later today? The other contestants are freaking out about what happened to Dale, and I’m trying to keep them calm.”

  “That can’t be easy,” Andy volunteered.

  Trevor sighed. “No. It isn’t.”

  “You’d be surprised at the crazies that have come out of the woodwork,” Jax said from behind us.

  I turned and met his disgusted gaze. “Meaning what?”

  His lip curled. “We’ve been flooded with calls from nut-jobs who are even more excited to be on the show now that someone died.”

  “So then Dale’s death has been good for ratings.”

  “It would seem so,” Jax bit out.

  “Everything Jax touches turns to gold.” Trevor put his arm around Jax’s shoulders. “Even when tragedy strikes, Jax comes out on top.”

  Jax shook off Trevor’s arm. “If you think you’re being funny, you’re not.”

  Trevor reddened. “It was a compliment.”

  A muscle worked in Jax’s cheek. “You can use my office to interview Trevor. What time is good for you, Detective?”

  Trevor shifted uneasily, perhaps irritated that he wasn’t being consulted.

  “Three?” I threw out a random time that allowed me to have lunch and get some work done.

  “Great. I’ll let him off his leash around then so you two can have a chat.” Jax turned to Trevor, his tone cool. “Sound good?”

  Trevor smiled agreeably, although a hint of irritation flashed through his gaze. “Perfect.”

  I studied them carefully. Regardless of Jax claiming the two of them were good with one another, there was obvious friction. Maybe it was just work tension and had nothing to do with them being romantically involved in the past. It was hard to say what was bubbling under the surface. But one thing was certain: they had issues.

  “I’ll see you at three.” I left the office, Andy tagging along.

  When we reached the lot below, Andy grabbed my elbow. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

  I gave him a chiding look. “You know better.”

  “He’s the one who called us in. I wasn’t thinking he was on our list of suspects.”

  “How many cases have we worked together where the person being stalked was actually setting it all up?” I shook my head. “My gut says it isn’t Jax. But I have to get a few more things figured out before he’s off the list.”

  “Fair enough.” He sighed. “It won’t happen again.”

  Andy left, and I made my way to the cafeteria, passing a clown, a knight in shining armor, and a cowboy riding a horse. Movie lots were interesting… Once I reached the cantina, I grabbed the bigg
est cup of coffee they sold and texted Jax: I’m at the cafeteria. Send the footage over when ready.

  A courier eventually arrived. My hands shook as I inserted the flash drive. I scanned through the recording until I found the approximate time Dale’s code was deleted. Heart pounding, I watched as people milled around the cage and adjoining area. When four a.m. came and went and nobody approached the keypad, I frowned and rewatched several times. Had Andy got the time wrong? No one was anywhere near the safe room at four a.m. How had the code been changed if nobody was there?

  I texted Andy: Are you sure the code was changed at four a.m.?

  Absolutely.

  Could the keypad clock have been different from the security camera?

  Nope. I double-checked. The keypad clock was the same as the security camera time. Dale’s code was definitely erased a few minutes before four.

  Frustrated, I kept staring at the recording, when my phone buzzed with a text from Jax: Hey, change of plans, Detective. I need you to come and talk to Trevor now because I have something I need him to do for me later.

  Scowling, I stood and closed my laptop. Typical pampered suit type, thinking I had nothing better to do than rearrange my schedule to fit his.

  I made my way across the studio lot toward Jax’s office. It was lunchtime, and Jax’s office suite seemed quieter than usual. Jax’s receptionist, Tressa, wasn’t at her desk, so I knocked on Jax’s door. When no sound came from inside, I opened the door tentatively.

  “Hello? Jax? Trevor?” I walked slowly into the empty room. “Seriously? You’re not even here?”

  Silence.

  I shook my head in disgust. “Thanks for wasting my time, guys.”

  I was about to leave when I heard a groan. I froze, then turned and scanned the office. Frowning, I moved cautiously toward Jax’s executive chair. As I rounded the corner of his big mahogany desk, I was shocked to find Jax lying on the carpet, apparently unconscious. I hurried to his side and knelt next to him. “Jax?” I patted his cheek, but he didn’t move. I checked his pulse, which seemed fine, and he stirred slightly. “Jax, what happened?”

  He mumbled something incoherent.

  A loud bang near the entrance made me stand up quickly. I watched in disbelief as smoke began to seep from under the closed door. What the hell is going on? I moved to the door and felt the wood. It was warm but not hot. I decided to chance opening it to see how bad the situation was. But when I attempted to open the door, it seemed stuck. I yanked on the handle, but it did no good. Coughing, I stood back and kicked at the door hard. It didn’t budge. It was as if someone had wedged something against the handle. I tried again with the same result. Shit.

  Plan B.

  I pulled my cell from my pocket and called 911. I told the nice lady on the phone where I was and what was going on. The operator told me to remain calm and to hang on the line, but I hung up. I wasn’t in need of her platitudes; what I needed was to get Jax and me out of this burning building as soon as possible.

  Unfortunately, since Jax was a big deal at the studio, he occupied a prime space on the eighth floor. There were no fire escapes on this building, so going out the window wasn’t an option. The smoke was getting thicker, and the various fire alarms screeched in warning. I pulled off my jacket and stuffed it at the base of the door, hoping to keep some of the smoke out. I returned to Jax and patted his cheek again. It would be so much better if he was awake. The idea of trying to carry him if the opportunity of escape presented itself didn’t appeal. He was a tall guy, and while I was in good shape, I was no he-man type.

  He groaned and opened his eyes. He wrinkled his brow, looking thoroughly confused. “What’s going on?” He managed to sit up unsteadily and pressed his hand to his temple. “Why am I on the floor?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He looked around and sniffed. “Smoke. Do I smell smoke?” His voice rose with alarm.

  “Yep. I called 911. We’re just gonna sit tight for now.”

  Apparently he didn’t agree because he tried to stumble to his feet. He got about halfway up before bumping back down on his ass. “What the fuck. What’s wrong with me?”

  “Don’t know.” I tugged at his arm. “Lean over. Let me see if you have a bump on your head.” He did as instructed, and I smoothed my hand through his silky hair. The feel of his scalp under my fingers and the clean scent of his shampoo did strange things to me. It was an odd thing to be slightly turned on by touching him, considering we were trapped in a burning building. There were no lumps on his head, so I cleared my throat and played it cool. “All clear. Did you drink anything?”

  “Just my coffee.” He looked over at the spilled cup next to him. “Decker, what the hell is happening?”

  “I’m not sure. I can’t get the door open.” I pressed my lips together, hoping I looked calm.

  He coughed and covered his mouth and nose. “Are we gonna die?” His voice was muffled, his eyes worried. He was trying to be brave, but I could see through him.

  “No. We’re going to be fine.” I had no real plan to save us. I didn’t have a cape or superpowers. I’d called 911, and the smart thing was to wait for help.

  “Okay,” he said softly.

  Something about the way he held my gaze told me he trusted me. He thought I had this handled. I had no idea why he thought that, but I could see he did. Maybe it was because he worked in an industry that made films where hero cops saved the day and always came out on top.

  I liked his world better than mine. Mine had wives who poisoned their husbands with antifreeze, and husbands who murdered their wives so they could upgrade to a younger model. My world was riddled with people killed by those they trusted most.

  I definitely preferred Jax’s fairy-tale world to mine. Unfortunately, we were trapped in this ugly reality at the moment. Someone seemed to really, really want Jax Thornburn dead, and unless I came up with something quickly, they were about to get their wish.

  Chapter Four

  “What are you doing?” Jax’s voice had a borderline hysterical quality.

  I’d just pushed open the widow of his eighth-floor office, and I too felt a bit flustered. The wind whipped my tie around my face, and I noticed a small crowd gathered below. Unfortunately, there were no fire trucks yet.

  “Decker?” Jax demanded, inching toward me. “What are you up to?”

  “I don’t think we can just wait.” I gave the door an uneasy glance. My jacket wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping the smoke out, and the air in the office was becoming increasingly toxic. I grabbed the sides of the window and put my foot on the windowsill.

  “Wait. You’re climbing out the window?” His voice was no longer borderline hysterical—it was full-blown panic-stricken.

  I didn’t answer, too busy trying not to hyperventilate. I didn’t like heights. I’d never liked them, and staring down at the ground now, I still didn’t like them. I pulled myself up until I was balanced on the wide sill. I clenched my jaw, trying to overcome the instinct roaring through me, telling me to get my ass down off the ledge immediately.

  Jax grabbed the back of my shirt. “No way. You’re going to die.”

  “We both might die if I don’t do something,” I muttered, inching farther out of the window.

  “Crazy son of a bitch. You’re out of your mind.” His voice wobbled.

  I didn’t actually disagree with him, but I didn’t respond to his comment. Instead, I said, “There’s no smoke coming from the lower floors. That’s a good thing.”

  “It is?”

  “Yes. I’m hoping that means the fire is only on our floor.” A gust of wind smacked me, and I dug my fingers into the aluminum windowsill.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Jax still had his death grip on my shirt, and I was kind of glad he did. “What’s your plan? You must know you can’t survive a drop to the ground.”

  “That isn’t the plan.”

  “What is the plan?”

  “I’m going to
drop down to the balcony below.”

  “There’s a balcony? Since when?”

  “Balcony might be a stretch. It has enough room for flower pots.” I prayed the small overhang was strong enough to hold the weight of a man. City inspectors could be a pain in the ass sometimes, but this was one time I hoped they’d been anal about their job.

  Behind me, Jax coughed roughly, obviously feeling the effects of the smoke filling his office. My throat burned, and I wheezed loudly, accepting the fact that I didn’t really have any choice. I had to try and save us. The fire trucks weren’t even here yet, and at this rate, we’d probably both be dead from smoke inhalation by the time they did pull up.

  “This is a horrible idea,” muttered Jax, still holding my shirt.

  “Hey, do you have a better one?”

  “No.”

  I crouched on the sill. “You need to let go of me.”

  He blew out an impatient breath. “I’m not sure I agree.”

  Fighting the panic in my gut, I spoke calmly. “Jax, let go of me. I have to turn to face you, so that I can try and drop down onto the balcony. I can’t do that if you’re holding on to my shirt.”

  He hesitated, then let go. It took every ounce of willpower I had to stay out on the ledge. Everything in me screamed to seek safety. But the hard fact was, at the moment, Jax’s office was just as dangerous as the ledge I stood on.

  “Just for the record, I think you’re out of your fucking mind,” he muttered. “But…thank you for trying.”

  From the grim tone of his voice, I knew he thought I was going to die. Panic jolted through me, but I gritted my teeth and stamped it down. I had no choice. I needed to remember that. “If I…don’t succeed…” I swallowed hard. “Stay put. I’m sure the fire department will be here soon.”

  He didn’t respond. We both knew if that were true, my sorry ass wouldn’t be hanging out over the ledge of this building.

  I sucked in a raspy breath and twisted slowly, scraping my feet along the windowsill. Sweat gathered on my face, and my muscles trembled as adrenaline and terror flooded through me. I heard people below yelling. I had no idea what they were saying, and I tried to tune them out so I could concentrate on not slipping. My movements were slow and clumsy, but eventually I faced Jax, and the smoke-filled room. The haze was so thick, I couldn’t even see the door anymore. Jax was pressed up to the windowsill, his eyes bright with fear. I could tell he was trying to control himself, but no sane person could be emotionless in the situation we were in. I really hoped he wouldn’t panic and try to follow me out the window. At least, not until he knew if I’d succeeded. If I fell, he could make his own decision about how he died.