Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“You sound reluctant.”
“I’m… not sure. It just feels like Clay left a lot of clues that were directed at me. Like he was trying not to involve you in it at all. Which makes sense. But that’s also why I’m here…”
“Why?” I asked, stomach tensing at the way a muscle was ticking in his jaw. That was never a good sign with him.
“Since we don’t know what is going on, I just… I wanted you to be careful.”
“Careful,” I repeated.
“I don’t think you’re in danger, but I don’t feel comfortable brushing that off completely either. I know you like your freedom and are going out and doing… new shit. But I just want you to start being a little more aware.”
“In case someone wants to hurt me?” I asked. “But why? I don’t know anything about this.”
“No,” Brooks agreed. “But if these guys were after whatever is on this flash drive, and they haven’t found it… they might think that you have it, that you were the one who would have gone through Clay’s things, and possibly brought it back to your place.”
“Oh,” I said, my gaze slipping over to my door. Normally, I felt reasonably safe. There was a lock and a deadbolt on the door to the living room. And there was another set of locks on the door at the street level.
I wasn’t delusional enough, though, to believe two locks and two deadbolts would be enough to keep some group of violent criminals out if they thought I had information that, I don’t know, might implicate them, or lead them to something that Clay was keeping from them.
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
“How are you going to stop it?” I heard myself speaking my thoughts aloud.
“By any means necessary,” he said, voice so fierce that it felt impossible to second-guess him. “Whether that means you come to stay at the clubhouse, or I crash here, if shit is starting to look really fishy.”
Did that slutty little part of me start conjuring up all sorts of steamy ways him playing my bodyguard might play out? Yes. But I tried to tamp that down.
“Okay,” I agreed, nodding. “So, when do you want to go check out the box?” I asked, picking up my wrap, and finally taking a tentative bite.
“Whenever you’re free next. Your schedule is more full than mine is.”
“Tomorrow?” I asked. Not because I wanted to keep seeing Brooks at every opportunity. Nope. Definitely not that.
“Probably better to do it as soon as possible,” he agreed, taking a bite of his food as well. “Then we will have as many of the pieces to this puzzle as possible. Do you know where it is?” he asked.
“I haven’t looked at the folder,” I admitted, putting my plate on the coffee table, then going to get it from the TV cabinet where I’d stashed it, unable to bring myself to deal with anything else about Clay’s passing.
But it was time to stop running.
Especially if his death wasn’t just some tragic accident.
If someone had killed him, I wanted to know.
And then I wanted justice.
But one step at a time.
I set the folder up, flipping through the pages until I found the document about the box, along with a key taped to the top of the paper.
“What is it?” Brooks asked, making me realize I was growling at the page.
“This isn’t his usual bank,” I told him. “This isn’t even in Navesink Bank,” I added, showing him the document.
“All the more reason to check it out,” he decided.
“Was there anything else strange about Clay’s apartment?” I asked.
“His desk,” Brooks said.
“What about his desk?” I asked, brows knitting.
“It was piled a mile high with crap. Old bills he’d clearly already paid. Junk mail. Just a ton of garbage.”
“What?” I asked, shaking my head. “No. I was over not that long before he passed. His desk was as neat as ever. Could… could these bad guys have made a mess of the desk? If they were looking for something?”
“No. It felt really deliberately messy. Especially once I took a closer look at it, some bills going back half a year. Shit Clay would have normally shredded and gotten rid of.”
“You think he made a mess to, what, signal to us that something was off?”
“And to hide information inside of. I just haven’t figured out his… methodology yet.”
“Maybe I could help?” I suggested. “Fresh set of eyes. After the safety deposit box.”
“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” he agreed, nodding. “The faster we can figure this out, the better.”
We ate in silence for a couple more minutes, lost in our own thoughts.
“Do you really think they might come for me?” I asked finally, setting my plate down.
Brooks took his last bite, chewing, thinking it over.
“Maybe,” he said finally, gaze cutting to me.