desertion

171

LYDIA

The crime scene looked the same as it had yesterday. The yellow tape still fluttered in the breeze, the house still carried that eerie quietness, and the air inside still felt heavy, like the walls had soaked up the weight of what happened here. But this time, I wasn't just observing-I had to be useful. I had to help.

Even if every nerve in my body was screaming at me to run.

I followed behind Mason and Officer Darden as we stepped back into the house. My hands were clenched into fists at my sides, hidden in my coat pockets. Mason glanced over his shoulder at me, his brows raised in a silent question.

I gave him a small smile, one I hoped seemed convincing. "I'm good," I said before he could ask.

Mason didn't look convinced, but he nodded and turned back to Darden, who was already walking us through the game plan for today.

"Let's spread out," Darden said, his voice brisk as he pointed to different parts of the house. "You two take the upstairs. Look for anything we might have missed yesterday-notes, documents, anything out of place. I'll stay down here and recheck the kitchen and living room."

"Got it," Mason said, already heading for the stairs.

I followed him, my chest tightening with every creak of the wooden steps beneath us. The upstairs hallway felt colder than it had yesterday, though I knew it was just my mind playing tricks on me. The shadows seemed longer, darker.

Mason stopped at the first room, gesturing for me to take the one at the end of the hall. "You okay with that?" he asked, his tone soft.

"Of course," I lied, forcing my lips into another smile.

He studied me for a second longer before nodding. "Alright. Holler if you find anything."

"Will do," I said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind me.

The room was small, with a single bed pushed against the wall and a desk covered in clutter. I slipped on my gloves, my movements robotic as I scanned the space. I picked through the items on the desk-a half-empty coffee cup, a stack of papers, a few pens that had leaked ink onto the wood.

My heart was pounding, and I couldn't seem to steady my breathing. The silence in the house wasn't comforting; it was suffocating. Every little noise-creaks, the distant murmur of voices downstairs, the occasional sound of Mason shifting in the other room-made me jump.

I had to pull myself together. Mason needed me to focus, and so did this case.

I moved around the room, checking the closet, the drawers, under the bed. Nothing stood out. But as I stepped toward the window, my foot caught on something, and I stumbled forward, barely catching myself on the windowsill.

"Damn it," I muttered, brushing myself off.

Looking down, I saw what had tripped me-a raised floorboard. My brow furrowed as I crouched down, running my gloved fingers over the edge of the wood. It wasn't just loose; it had been deliberately lifted.

Carefully, I pried the board up, revealing a small space underneath. My stomach twisted as I saw what was inside-a notebook, its cover worn and stained.

I picked it up, my hands trembling slightly as I flipped through the pages. My breath caught in my throat.

Names. Addresses. Notes. Information about women. One name stood out, circled multiple times. The victim.

My chest felt like it was caving in, but I forced myself to move. I stood up, clutching the notebook tightly, and rushed out of the room.

"Mason! Officer Darden!" I called, my voice shaky but loud enough to carry.

Footsteps pounded in the hallway, and Mason appeared first, his expression alert. "What is it? Are you okay?"

I nodded quickly, holding up the notebook. "Evidence," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

Officer Darden joined us, his eyes narrowing as he took the notebook from my hands. He flipped through the pages, his expression growing darker with each turn.

"This is good," he said finally, his tone grim. "Really good work, Lydia."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, but it didn't bring me any relief. My chest still felt tight, my heart still racing.

Mason stepped closer, his hand brushing against mine as he gave me a small smile. "See? You're amazing at this."

I tried to smile back, but it felt forced. "Just doing my job," I murmured, looking away.

Officer Darden was already heading downstairs to log the evidence, leaving Mason and me alone in the hallway.

"You sure you're okay?" Mason asked, his voice quiet now.

"I'm fine," I said quickly, avoiding his gaze. "We should get back to work."

He didn't push me, but I could feel his eyes on me as I turned and walked back into the room.

As I stood there, staring at the spot where the notebook had been hidden, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were just scratching the surface of something much bigger. Something darker.

And deep down, I wasn't sure I was ready for what was coming next.