Page 52 of The Last Straw

Motion detector lights came on as he exited on the first floor passage, and headed for his apartment, anxious about what was ahead of him. He didn’t have time to prepare as he normally would have, but the consequences of ignoring this could be disastrous.

Charlie drove them to Detter House in grim-lipped silence. Wyrick knew something was bothering him, and she hated secrets.

“You know you don’t have to sulk. If you wanted my PBGJ sandwich, you could have had it.”

Charlie frowned as he took an exit off the beltway.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Well, we were fine when we sat down to breakfast, and then you weren’t. Once we get to Detter House, we need to be focusing on Rachel, not something else, so what’s wrong?”

Charlie sighed. “It’s not you. I just can’t get that face out of my head.”

“Face? What—you mean Jessup Wallis?”

Charlie nodded.

She rolled her eyes. “He’s just another face to me, and they’re all beginning to look alike.”

“He’s a threat,” he muttered.

“No. I’m a threat to him now. And he’s running, Charlie, I promise.”

“How do you know that?” he asked.

“Because, after you left the office I entered his cell phone into my locator and pinged his current location. Not only is he not in Texas, he’s not in Louisiana, either. He’s halfway through Arkansas and northbound.”

“Really?” Charlie said.

Wyrick rolled her eyes. “Yes, really. And as soon as we get home this evening, I will let the rest of the world see his face, then you won’t be the only one responsible for me. Savvy?”

He nodded. “Sorry.”

“No apology needed. I’m fine. We’re working a case, and that’s our focus. Not me. Deal?”

“Deal,” Charlie said.

A few minutes later they arrived at Detter House, pulled into guest parking and went inside, then straight into the manager’s office.

Wayne was at the computer when they entered.

“Hello again. Here’s the key. Just call if you need anything.”

Charlie palmed the key. “Thanks. We’ll drop it off when we’re done.”

Charlie and Wyrick rode the elevator up to the second floor again, heading to apartment 210 in the north wing. The yellow crime scene tape was still dangling from the side of the door as he unlocked it.

“Me first,” Wyrick said.

Charlie stepped aside, then followed her in.

“What’s your pleasure?” he asked.

“There can’t be hidden access in the inner walls because they exit into the hall. And, according to the blueprints, nothing has been altered in the exterior walls. But there’s something off. I can’t tell what it is, but it doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?” Charlie asked.

Wyrick paused. “Have you ever walked across a floor that had a slight slope?”

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