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“Going down?”
Something like that.
“Caleb, are you okay?” Amelia leans over me, her hands rubbing my face and neck. Is she checking for injuries? Her hands drift down to my pecs and stay. Not checking for injuries.
“You tried to kill me,” I grunt.
She smirks. “You mean you were struck by my beauty and fell head over heels.”
I look into her velvety blue eyes. “If I fell for you, it was an accident.”
The humor falls from her face as the moment turns serious.
No time for serious.
I grunt and pull myself up, then her, as the elevator dings. “Let’s go, little menace.”
“To the Blueberry!” She calls and skips inside the elevator, and I notice that she now has her phone.
“The what?”
“The car! Oh wait, yours is black. The Blackberry!”
I step in next to her and she latches onto my arm. It’s useless to try to peel her off. She always comes back. And something about that consistency is oddly comforting.
Chapter 34
Caleb
“You think Justin’s murder and Liam being in the country are connected, right?” Amelia asks as I punch in the code I was given for Justin’s apartment. Was it a terrible idea to bring her here? Possibly. But the more I considered it the more I hoped she’d be able to find the connection we missed because of her relationship with Justin.
Amelia nibbles her lip, her eyes suddenly turning vulnerable. “That’s the only reason you brought me here, isn't it? Because you’re working your case.” Her voice is quiet.
I shrug a shoulder, letting her assume what she wants, even if it hurts her.
She takes a deep breath and turns away, moving aimlessly around the apartment like she’s unsure where to start.
“You’ve been here before, right?” I ask.
She stops at the counter, brushing aside a piece of mail. “Once.”
I furrow my brows and flip through the basket of miscellaneous items next to the fridge. “Weren’t you together for two years?”
“Yeah. But we always met at my place. It was bigger. Sometimes I’d pick him up downstairs, and we went to the bar down the street a few times, but that was it.”
How much had this man really meant to her?
I continue to watch her, waiting to see what she latches onto. Justin was the opposite of Amelia. His place is small but tidy, a minimalist approach like my own. Or was it wiped clean by someone else?
Amelia opens a drawer with hot pads and pulls each one out, leaving them on the counter as she moves on to the towel drawer. I follow behind her, restocking the drawers she empties. Pans, silverware, bowls, all of it gets tossed on the counter.
She’s very thorough.
After she’s emptied every nook and cranny of the kitchen, and I’ve put it all back, she moves on to the living room. Cushions come off the gray couch, she rolls up the rug, she even goes so far as to unzip the pillows and feel around the cotton. Tufts tumble out and I scoop them off the floor then snatch the pillow from her.
“Are you looking for something specific?” Like something she left here? Something he took from her? “Or do you enjoy making a mess? You’re very proficient at it.”
She throws the next pillow at me and more cotton drifts slowly to the ground. “I’m looking for clues.”
