desertion

147

LYDIA

The stillness of my room was suffocating. I stared at the ceiling, letting my mind drift back to Daniel Carter's case. No matter how hard I tried to distract myself, it kept creeping in like an itch I couldn't scratch. The cryptic message on the wall, the tangled web of suspects-there was no way to let it go. My brain wasn't wired for rest when there was still a puzzle to solve.

I glanced at my phone, debating whether to text Mason. He'd probably call me crazy for even thinking about the case on our day off, but he'd also listen. Mason always listened. Still, I stopped myself. He deserved a break, even if I couldn't give myself one.

Throwing the blankets off, I sat up and grabbed my car keys. Maybe a drive would clear my head-or at least give me something else to focus on. I grabbed my backpack on the way out, slinging it over my shoulder as I headed into the living room.

Dad looked up from the couch, raising an eyebrow. "Where are you off to?"

"Meeting up with some friends," I lied, forcing a smile.

He nodded, leaning back. "Alright. Have fun."

"Thanks." The guilt tugged at me as I slipped out the door, but I shook it off. I wasn't exactly lying-I was meeting someone, just not a friend. The ghost of Daniel Carter had been haunting my thoughts since day one.

I slid into the driver's seat, cranked the engine, and pulled out of the driveway. The familiar streets blurred past me as I drove, my hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than usual. I knew where I was going long before I got there. Daniel's apartment.

When I arrived, I parked a block away at a small café. Two uniformed officers were chatting outside the building, probably stationed there to keep people like me away. It wasn't exactly comforting to know I was about to break a dozen rules, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I had to do this.

I slipped out of my car and took the back way, finding a narrow alley that led to the apartment building's rear entrance. The old brick wall was weathered and slightly cracked-easy enough to climb if I was careful.

"This is a stupid idea," I muttered under my breath as I hoisted myself up. The rough surface scraped my hands, but I didn't stop until I reached the second-floor balcony. Peering through the window, I confirmed the room was empty. I slid the door open as quietly as I could and stepped inside.

The apartment was eerily silent, the kind of silence that pressed against your ears. The crime scene tape still hung across the front door, and the smell of bleach lingered in the air. My eyes immediately fell to the dark stains on the carpet. Blood.

It was worse than I'd imagined.

I swallowed hard and took a shaky breath, forcing myself to move. The police had already dusted the place for fingerprints, but something about the chaos made me think they'd missed something. My eyes landed on a set of prints by the window. They'd been dusted, but I took a picture anyway, just in case.

I moved to the small dresser in the corner and began opening drawers. Most were empty, but one held a book. At first glance, it looked ordinary, but when I picked it up and flipped through, I froze. The pages had been cut out to create a hollow inside, and nestled within was a small safe.

"Smart guy," I murmured.

I debated taking it, but I knew better. Evidence like this couldn't just disappear. Instead, I set the book back down-then immediately regretted it. I'd just left my fingerprints on it.

"Crap," I muttered, rummaging through my backpack. I'd brought gloves and a rag, though I wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe I'd subconsciously known I'd end up here.

I hurried to the bathroom and dampened the rag, then returned to the book. Carefully, I wiped it down, trying to remove any trace of myself. When I was done, I grabbed a tissue and wiped it one more time, just to be safe.

And then it hit me-I'd probably wiped away any other fingerprints too.

"You've got to be kidding me," I whispered, shaking my head. My nerves were fraying, but I wasn't about to stop. I scanned the room, searching for anything else that might give us a lead.

That's when I heard voices.

Panic surged through me as I realized the officers were coming back. Heart pounding, I rushed to the balcony, sliding the door shut behind me. I climbed down as fast as I could, barely managing not to slip.

By the time my feet hit the ground, my chest was heaving. I bolted back to my car, not daring to look back until I was safely inside.

My hands shook as I gripped the steering wheel, staring out the windshield. What the hell had I just done?

So much for a day off.