All Revved Up

Chapter 10

Kitt

My feelings toward Kiara have been... developing. I feel like I'm one interaction away from saying "screw it" and asking her to reconsider going on a date.

My solution? Google her and her family to try and find something, or anything, that will trigger my defensive side and put my guard up a little more.

I need a detail that makes her less innocent. Less desirable and perfect.

Shit. Since when do I view my suspects as desirable and perfect?

"What are you working on?" Bexley asks as he comes into the dining room.

I'm camped at the table, laptop open with papers and pens scattered around. It's a sight to behold.

"Trying to decode our neighbours," I mutter, pulling up an article labelled 'Andrew Felling's Tragic Death.' "Come look at this."

"You got her last name?" He asks with surprise.

I am slightly ashamed to admit that after Kiara went inside her house I may or may not have snooped through their mailbox.

I twist my lips to the side before saying, "Not exactly got."

He shakes his head with a small knowing smirk before rounding the table and starting to read over my shoulder, asking, "You think this is the father?"

I nod, muttering, "It can't be a coincidence that he has the same last name and lived in the same city."

Not much information is given. Just that he died in a car accident. Head-on collision with death on impact.

I scroll down a little and squint my eyes, begging them to be wrong, but the words stay crystal clear.

"This article is dated 2022," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose as sympathy starts to pound at my temples.

Bexley curses quietly behind me.

"There are kids," I say, my stomach clenching with nausea. "Three of them. And the mother seems to be busy most of the time."

Another expletive is released from Bexley's mouth.

"I think our neighbours had enough on their plate these last two years without worrying about street racing," I say, turning in my chair to grab his gaze.

There's a minute of silence before he nods. "One house eliminated. Who's next?"

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

"Two restaurants and a clothing store of people that are innocent," I announce with triumph.

Turns out, not having people's names makes it a lot harder to get info on them. So we looked up places and their employees. We've gotten more information in the past couple of hours than we have the last few days.

"Why didn't we think of this sooner?" Bexley asks, taking a drink of his water as he leans back in his chair. "Aren't detectives supposed to be smart?"

I give him a look. "It's because of you. Your stupidity is leaking into my brain."

He leans forward, saying, "Or maybe your intelligence is flowing out. There's not that much to begin with."

I huff a laugh. "I would have liked to hear you repeat that in university when I caught you cheating off my test."

He shakes his head with a sigh. "If only time machines existed. We will never know if it's true."

"It is true!" I exclaim, laughter playing on my tongue. "Your answers were the same as mine, and your hovering speaks for itself. You weren't exactly discreet about it."