AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Stella,” Nora interjects, somehow seeming to have understood more than me, “slow down. What are you talking about? You were out on the balcony and you heard Frank talking to who? And what did you get wrong?”
Stella inhales and her next words come out clear as a bell, “I heard Frank talking to Connie. He was threatening her, and, Nora, that picture of Cleo and Ian, it didn’t belong to Frank. It was Sven’s picture. Sven took it. I think he’s working with Connie.” There’s the sound of a door opening in the background, then Stella’s voice turns frantic again. “Connie, hi. You’re here. Um, honey, I gotta go! Ian’s wife is here on the balcony with me. But, yes, please come and pick me up now!”
Abruptly she hangs up and the silence rings with the weight of her words. I press the accelerator then switch over to the right lane to turn. Stella called Nora honey and asked her to come pick her up. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out she’s scared and wants us to come.
“Sven took the photo of you and the photo of Ian and Cleo?” Nora breathes. “And he’s working with Connie!” She twists in her seat. “And Connie is out on the balcony alone with Stella! We have to go now!”
“We’re already on our way,” I say through gritted teeth.
***
WE’RE TEN MINUTES from Nora’s office building, but I make it there in seven. I haven’t even stopped the car before Nora is hopping out and running for the door.
“Nora!” Despite not being in a parking spot, I slam the car in park and take off after her. I will have my car ticketed and towed before I let Nora go alone into a building with a potential murderer on the loose. The more I think about things, the more I’m starting to think either Connie or Sven shot Cleo and that they also might have had something to do with Ian’s death. I know the coroner said he died of cardiac arrest, likely from taking Minoxidil without a diuretic, but still my gut says something is off.
I catch up to her at the front entrance, placing my hand on the door to stop her from entering.
“Jack!” she cries, rattling the door. “Let me in! Stella is my friend, and she’s in there with crazy Connie! She could be in danger!”
“I know,” I say tightly. “And that’s exactly why you can’t just go bursting in there.” She opens her mouth to protest more, but I cut her off. “I’m going in first, stay behind me.”
Nora’s mouth snaps shut and her expression softens. Her hand drops from the handle and she steps back from the door, gesturing for me to go ahead. I’m tempted to slip inside then lock her out, but I feel better having her with me. After all, I only know that Connie is here. Sven’s whereabouts are unknown. Sven, the seemingly crazed with jealousy over his wife’s affair and down on his luck, ex-doctor turned neighborhood security guard.
Yeah, I don’t want him anywhere near Nora.
Nothing seems amiss on the main floor, but since Stella was calling from the third-floor balcony, this doesn’t mean much.
“Elevator runs slow,” Nora murmurs to me. “The stairs will be faster.”
I nod and we hurry over to the stairs, taking them two at a time until we reach the third floor.
It’s eerily quiet. The cubicles are deserted and the lights are off in all of the nearby offices.
“Where is everybody?” Nora murmurs. A spike of adrenaline hits me like a sixth sense to the gut. This is not good. Not good at all.
“Which way to the balcony?”
She doesn’t answer, just barrels toward the large bay windows bracketing the doors to the balcony. Once again I’m forced to sprint to get in front of her.
“I said me first,” I exclaim as I catch up to her, hating how childish this makes me sound. But seriously, I have training for this type of situation. And a gun. Meanwhile Nora is fueled by her worry for Stella right now and not thinking straight, which means her general state of high intelligence might even be compromised.
The rest of my reproof dies on my lips as I take in the scene before me. The balcony is completely empty.
Chapter 29
Jack
“SHE’S NOT ANSWERING! Why is she not answering!” Nora cries, tossing her phone across her desk with a groan of frustration. “Where is she? Did Connie take her? Or Sven? Both of them? What the heck is even happening?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing,” I say, attempting to calm some of her anxiety. I slide my own phone back into my pocket, unnerved by the text from Anderson I just read: Officer Moore said no one was home at the Wharfman’s, but get this—lady next door said a black SUV squealed out of the driveway not too long ago, so fast she said she was half tempted to call the police on it. “Maybe Stella just went home and is just missing your calls.”
“Or maybe crazy Connie took her hostage!” she exclaims, starting to pace. I don’t tell her that this seems unlikely. Given the fact that someone—my money is on Sven—shot Cleo, I’d say these people have moved past hostage negotiations.
“Let’s just take a second and think through what we know,” I suggest. “See if that gives us any idea of what Sven and Connie are going to do next.”
Nora stops pacing. “So you definitely think it was them that shot Cleo?”
“Given what we know, yes. Both of them found out their spouses were cheating on them and now both of those spouses are dead.”
