Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Gabriel pushed the door open and exploded outward, practically leaping out of the floor, gun aimed. I held my breath. I expected a shot, something to say it was all over, that Gabe had ended the nightmare.
Instead, I heard Gabriel call back to me. “No one’s here. You can come out.”
I hurried up the last few steps, the wood bending under my weight. The air was still musty and wet, but I took a big gulp of it, filling my lungs. The lights were off up here as well, but there was plenty of sunlight coming in through the cracked window, allowing me to turn off my phone.
“Hurry, let’s get out of here,” Gabriel said. He was clicked fully into bodyguard mode, his posture at high alert, his muscles twitching as he continually scanned the room through the sight of his gun. If I wasn’t so scared, I’d probably be turned on.
I stuck close to Gabe, a hand on his shoulder as he led me through the shack and back out, back to safety. The air tasted much better out here. I let go of a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, replacing it with another big chug of oxygen. The sun on my skin felt like being kissed by God herself. I half wanted to drop to my knees and kiss the ground but figured that would be way too dramatic.
We hurried to the car instead. I jumped into the passenger seat, Gabe having reholstered his gun as he climbed into the driver’s seat. He gave the property one last scan before reversing, the crooked grin of the broken door seeming to taunt us as we left.
“Holy shit,” I said, another exhale coming out with a shocked laugh attached. “Think that was the Midnight Chemist back there? Maybe it was the wind?”
Gabe shook his head. He gripped the wheel with one hand, his forearm pushing at the fabric of his rolled-up sleeve. “I think it was the Chemist. Those fish look taken care of. He might have been coming back. Probably heard us and freaked out, ran, and slammed the door shut.”
“And cut the power? Maybe to slow us down?”
“Probably.” Gabe looked over at me and winked. “Nice deduction, Watson.”
I chuckled. The further we put that house behind us, the better I began to feel. I lowered the window and let the wind rush in, sticking my arm out and letting my hand get carried in the invisible currents.
And then I remembered. “The phone. Do you still have it?”
“I do. It’s in my pocket.” He shifted so I could reach in and grab it.
“Do you have a car charger?” I asked, flipping the phone over and seeing that the port was one of the newer ones.
He slowed down at a red light and reached across me, grabbing a long white cable from inside the glove compartment. “Would this work?”
I checked the ends. “Yup,” I said, plugging it into the dead phone. It only took about a minute for the screen to blink on, the white Apple logo sitting in the center. It opened straight into an icon-littered homepage.
“Yes,” I said, pumping my fist. “No password.”
I went straight to the settings option and clicked on “My Phone.” It gave me a screen full of information: how much storage was in the phone, what version it was, what model, and—most importantly—who it belonged to.
“Mason Martinez,” I said out loud. “That’s who owned this phone.”
“Holy shit.” Gabe nearly slammed on the brakes. “That was Grayson’s boyfriend—one of the Chemist’s most recent victims.”
I looked over at him, my deduction skills only taking me so far.
“Is… was Grayson’s boyfriend the killer?”
Gabe made a sudden turn, taking us onto the highway. I raised the window, the screech of the wind becoming too loud. “I don’t know. I do know that I want to talk to him now. He’s a bartender at the Mandarin Hotel.”
I played with a smooth pearl on my necklace. This felt big. Monumental. Shit was starting to shift. I just couldn’t tell if it was shifting in my direction or not. Could the Chemist be leading us off the trail or directly onto it?
There was only one way to find out. “I’m coming with you,” I said, just in case that hadn’t already been known.
“Of course,” Gabe said, his eyes on the road and a smirk playing on his face. “Sherlock needs his Watson.”
My literary heart fluttered at the continual comparison. As scared as I’d been in that dark basement, I realized that I’d never actually feared for my life. Not in the way I had when I was blindfolded and strapped down to a table. I had tasted death then. Felt it creep into my body, ready to sever me from whatever corporeal form I had.
But with Gabriel there, I had felt safe. Scared as fuck, yeah, but safe, too.