Hot Secrets (Tall, Dark & Deadly #1)(25)

“I have work I need to do,” she said, “but… yes. Okay. I think it might do me some good to escape a bit.”

“Perfect. So let’s eat this bag of donuts and you can do whatever women do in the morning to get ready, and we’ll take off.” He released her and reached for the bag and they turned on the news and chatted. But any relaxation Lauren felt ended quickly as a media clip of her and Royce, rushing from the hotel flashed on the screen. Then another of the crowd gasping as something was thrown all over them.

Lauren was glad she’d just finished off her donut. She was no longer hungry. “He wants attention,” she said, without looking at Royce. “He got it.”

“He?”

She glanced at him. “Gut feeling.”

“Ah,” he said. “Well. It’s all over the news. Why not file that police report?”

“Someone throwing alcohol at us is in the news,” she said. “My phone calls are not. And you and I both know the police will do less than what you’re doing and someone will blab. This kind of thing feeds copycats. I don’t need to invite that kind of attention to me, or anyone in a similar position on a tough case.”

“Are you confident this is about the case?”

She inhaled and let it out. “I don’t know. I have ticking clocks and one day marked off a calendar. How do I know what that means? Logic says it’s this case though. That’s all I can go on.”

“Do you have your files on your computer? Can you go through them and make a list of the most likely suspects?”

“Royce, you were FBI. Is there even one of the perps you took down that would send you a Christmas card?”

“No,” he said. “But I know the ones that were the most vicious and the most likely to lash out. We need to start there.”

“I have my files.”

“Then when we get back here, we’ll go through them. We’ll get this behind you. I promise.”

Lauren wasn’t one to lean on other people, but in that moment, she was secretly far more thankful for that promise than she was willing to admit to anyone, even him. And not because she didn’t appreciate his efforts. Because she knew that if she let him know just how rattled she was, if she admitted it to him, she’d have to admit it to herself. The way she compartmentalized the bad stuff that came with her job didn’t work that way. There was an order to the way she dealt with things. She had to maintain control. Not Royce.

***

Several hours later, Lauren shivered as she stepped off the elevator and into the corridor outside her apartment. “Well, we didn’t beat the rain,” she said, shivering from the cold droplets that lingered on her black jeans and red t-shirt, as well as her hair. “I hope the sandwiches we walked two blocks for are worth getting wet over. I’ve never tried this place.”

She scooped her keys from her purse. Royce’s cell phone rang and he dropped his overnight bag on the ground, and Lauren took the bag of food from him so he could answer it.

He held his phone and punched the ‘answer’ button as his gaze dropped to the bottom of the door. He answered the call with, “I’ll call you back,” then ended the connection and stuck his phone back onto his belt.

Lauren’s gaze settled on the envelope on the ground and she knew that had to be what he was reacting to, and she was downright chilled to the bone now. “We’ve only been gone a few hours. There have to be security cameras.”

“There are and they showed no evidence of anyone but us at your door in the past few days. Let me have your keys.”

Lauren set the bag on the floor and fished them from her purse. He took them and checked the door over before opening it and grabbing the envelope. “Stay here.”

“Right,” she said stiffly. “I’ve got the drill down. You go. I wait.”

He tilted her chin up with his finger. “I’ll make this go away, Lauren. I promise.”

“Keep saying that,” she encouraged, confessing more than she should, more than she told herself just hours before that she would, but unable to stop herself. “It helps to hear it.”

***

After Royce searched the apartment, he found Lauren in the hallway and gave her the ‘all clear’ to come inside. Standing at the kitchen table, he showed her the calendar sheet he’d already pulled from the envelope with an additional day marked off. This time there was a message made from cutout letters.

Lauren frowned, reading it. “The countdown continues.” She shook her head. “There’s no ending date for me to have any idea where this is headed. It’s making me crazy.”

“When you see that paper and hear the ticking clock, what’s the first thing, or things, that comes to your mind?”

“This case. It’s a death penalty case. Well, there is this other…” She pursed her lips. “No. Never mind.”

“What?” he asked. “Say it. It’s better to look at all options than not.”

She leaned one and on the table. “I hesitate to bring this up because I was second chair, but my first death penalty case, a guy named Sheridan, goes to execution soon.”

“When?”

“Ironically, two weeks after this new trial begins but it’s been stayed several times. It could easily be again.”