EYE CANDY

Chapter III

"I'm Scott. Scott McCall."

Lydia froze. She studied the man's features - large brown eyes, slight tan, broad shoulders, nicely filled out lithe frame. dark hair that curled upwards ever so slightly. She had heard so much gushing about him that she should have slapped herself for not recognising him sooner.

"Allison's Scott McCall."

That was all she could say. She had always imagined meeting her best friend's boyfriend under nicer, less shady, brighter circumstances, with said best friend present, of course. He would be dropping by Allison's unexpectedly while Lydia was around. Allison would do introductions. Lydia would spend her afternoon rolling her eyes when they did something couple-y. She never thought about running into him as they both tried to track down their kidnapped friend.

Scott smiled. It didn't reach his "dreamy, swoon worthy eyes" (Allison's saying). He gazed up the small building and Lydia tried to follow his eyes to the specific window he was looking at. He seemed to have been here before.

"His apartment is on the third floor," Scott said when he looked back at her.

Lydia frowned. "Whose?"

"Peter Hale," Scott answered in a matter-of-fact tone. He must have noticed Lydia's confused look, because he continued, "He has had some old history with the Argents. Allison said you were smart, so I guessed you figured it out."

She shook her head. "No," she told him. "She didn't mention it." She didn't tell him about the texts, and he did not press her further.

They walked in silence into the building and quietly stood in the lobby as the single elevator slowly rattled down. Only when they were inside and the doors were shuddering in their attempt to shut themselves did Scott speak up again.

"So, uh, I think the police called me straight after they spoke to you," he said. "I know some people at the station. I told them about my suspicions of Peter and they said they would check on him...but I want to see for myself."

The elevator doors opened before she thought up a reply.

They stepped into a small lobby shared by only 3 apartments, and a narrow corridor that Lydia presumed led to other units. Scott turned left, and Lydia followed.

The door to unit #03-05 was just five feet from the lift. It had an extra metal gate in front. Scott walked right up and wrenched the gate handle down. Then he did the same with the main door.

Lydia had to admit, she was taken aback. But what would she have done - knock? If this Peter Hale had something to do with Allison, he probably would not have let her waltz into his home. At least, not without some malicious intent. She closed the gate behind her and squeezed into the apartment before the wooden door swung shut. Then she bumped into a frozen Scott McCall.

Peter Hale's apartment did not have a hallway, instead opening right into a spacious living room. It would have looked neat and nicely-decorated if not for the fact that it appeared to have just hosted a hurricane. The coffee table was leaning on two broken legs. The large flatscreen TV had its screen smashed. Ornaments lay broken on the floor. In the far right corner, a bookshelf had had its contents ripped from its shelves.

Suddenly, the opening riffs of a song cut through the silent apartment. Lydia yelped and jumped about a foot into the air. It was only then she realised that she and Scott had been unmoving in the doorway.

Scott threw her a glance over his shoulder and when their panicked eyes met, Lydia knew they were thinking the same thing.

"That's Allison's ringtone."