Page 23 of Beautiful Prey

“I don’t. Listen, I’m sorry, but…it’s just not a good time. There’s a lot I need to figure out.”

“Like what?”

“Just…things about—about Emery.”

I could practically hear his shit-eating grin. “There’s a name for that, you know.”

“I know! Fine. I’m a little obsessed but I have good reason to be right now. I’ve learned some things and…I need to look into it.”

“Like what?”

“I…I can’t get into it right now. But I promise I’ll call you later, okay?”

He was silent for a moment. “Alright, I get it. Seriously, I do. Just don’t lose yourself in that guy, Eve. Not him. There’s too much history, too much personal shit at stake.”

I gripped my phone. “I know.”

“Be safe out there. I’ll talk to you later, and I expect to hear more about what you're learning, got it?”

“Got it.”

I let him go. I couldn’t tell him yet. Not everything. Not until I knew more.

I got into Detroit as most of the people there were leaving. The city without its workers was practically empty. Detroit might have had a hard past, but there was beauty in it too. One could see it in the old buildings. The Paris of America they had once called it. And I believed that to be true. Though now the old buildings were shadowed over by the new. Gothic churches, beautiful classic theaters, and abandoned mansions stood among cold tech centers, skyscrapers, and the occasional casino. Dad’s company was on the outskirts of Tech-town not far from the hospital. The facility was a contradiction of the old and new. One half an old medical building from the 1920s, the other side brand new and built only a decade or so ago, made up mostly of concrete and glass.

I parked on the old side because that’s the side I remember the most whenever I visited as a kid. As I got out, I peered up past the four levels of ivy-covered brick and small arched windows to the little figures carved along the underside of the tilted roof—at the little designs of dragons and lions making a pattern along the upper half but beginning to crack in a few parts.

I then noticed the crest over the door. Some old design the doctors used back in the twenties. Dad had told me that part of the building had once been used for studying cadavers back in the day. Once, when I was in middle school visiting, I swore I saw a ghost with no head drifting from one door to another down a dark hallway. The building had chilled me but made me curious ever since.

When I got inside, I stopped in the center lobby, studying the dark green marble and ivy floors and a high ceiling with an old lantern light hanging at the top while giving the security at the desk my name and license.

“Here to see Dr. Stevens,” I mentioned.

“Dr. Stevens is in the new building,” said the thin, graying man at the desk, giving me back my driver’s license. “You could have parked on the other side. This is the long way.”

“I know, I don’t mind.”

The security guard swiveled in his chair pointing to a set of double doors, one side kept open. “Through there, straight down till you get to the elevators, then take a right.”

I entered the main hallway, taking my time as I walked past the old offices and lab rooms, all dark now. Ever since the expansion, they had slowly started to move into the new area, vacating the old. After my family's death, most of the old building was now unoccupied, used now mostly to house supplies and hold the occasional meeting room. Though I heard recently Uncle Wes was opening up parts again for rental offices.

I came to one room near the end. The door plate read Dr. Martel.

I hovered by the door of my father’s office, the blinds pulled down, making it hard to distinguish shadow from object. I took a quiet step inside before flicking on the light.

The office had been emptied out, except for a bare desk, a chair, and file cabinet. Though they did leave dad’s degrees on the wall to collect dust.

Quietly, I walked over to the filing cabinet and opened each drawer. All were empty except for a letter opener on the bottom. I sighed, closing it up. Not that I should be surprised, Dad wouldn’t have kept important documents here just to sit and be read by anyone, especially anything that might hold secrets.

I returned to the hall and continued on, making a right past the elevators. Uncle Wes’ office was closed. From a little window, I could see he was speaking to someone inside, but they must have finished their meeting because he got up from his chair while the large man in a lab coat he spoke to opened the door. We exchanged nods before he disappeared down the hall.

“I was just about to call you,” Uncle Wes said, sliding his hands into his coat pockets.

I glanced at the clock on the desk. Ten minutes late.

“Sorry.” I smiled. “Got caught in some traffic.”

He nodded as if that was a good enough excuse. “Well, come in, I just finished up.”

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