Page 158 of The Darkest Chase

The bottom drawer.

I instantly regret it.

There’s vintage smut. Old nudie magazines and what looks like a buckled leather strap just the right size around for—ahem. Well, I guess I know what he does in his free time here.

I really wish I didn’t have that image, Xavier choking himself with that strap and masturbating furiously.

But tossed in there on top of what look like more ropes and chains and harnesses, there’s something else.

A digital camera—just what Micah was looking for.

I try not to get too excited.

A lot of people still use digital cameras instead of their phones for photos. Maybe Xavier likes taking nature shots and it’s got nothing to do with the dead hiker.

I should leave it.

I’ll look really silly if I snatch it and it turns out it’s full of Xavier’s nudes while some supermodel leads him around on a leash, and then I’ll have to figure out how to give it back to him without getting groped or something.

But there’s also a strap attached to it.

Just inside the curve, I can make out a faded label.

PROPERTY OF BRI

Holy shit.

I can’t see the rest.

But I know Xavier doesn’t start with B-R-I.

Wasn’t the hiker’s name Brian?

My heart lurches.

My gut clenches.

I glance at the wall between the office and the conference room, then glance around quickly for something—anything—the Kleenex dispenser on the desk!

I hold the tissues like a shield so I can snag the camera by the strap without leaving any fingerprints. Gingerly, I lift it out.

It takes a few awkward fumbles, but I manage to flip my bag open and lower the camera inside without letting it touch my skin.

Just in time for the door latch to click.

My heart—oh my God, every organ in my body—leaps right out of my chest.

Good thing I have fast reflexes.

I knock the drawer shut with my knee before I freeze up.

The flap on my bag gives in to gravity and oh God, oh God, there’s a little loop of the camera strap sticking out. I hope the flap covers it.

I don’t dare look down and check because—

Here comes trouble.

Xavier Arrendell strides in with a scowl on his face, his lips drawn tight, his normally pale cheeks flushed with anger.

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