Page 112 of Long Gone

“I have to find out what my father cleared out of Hugo’s office. I was checking the attic to see if he’d stored Hugo’s things up there when those men broke in last night.”

“Find anything?”

“No,” I said carefully. “But I’d barely gotten started before I was interrupted.”

“I’ll head up and look after I finish my coffee.”

“We’ll head up after we both finish our coffee,” I corrected.

He shot me a look of disapproval. “You have no business climbing up into the attic.”

“If you think I’m going to let you go up there and search my family’s things without me, you obviously don’t know me very well.”

“Fine,” he grunted. “But no lifting anything, or you’ll bust your stitches.”

“Careful, Malcolm, or I’ll start to think you care about my well-being,” I half-teased.

He snorted. “I already told you. We need each other to work this case.”

“Seems to me that I might not need you as much as you need me. Sure, you provided the Jeep to tour Hugo’s land, but I’ve supplied all the other information.”

His face screwed up. “What the hell are you talking about? I got Burton’s office address. I knew your father owned the building.”

“I could have gotten that on my own,” I countered. “Hale just beat me to it.”

He gave me a deadpan look. “Are you saying you want to do this on your own?”

Was I saying that?

Something had changed the night before. I hadn’t expected him to care so much about my well-being, and while we could play this game that we needed each other for our resources, I knew it had been more than that. I was used to taking care of myself, but I’d needed him, and it made me feel vulnerable. But I also saw concern in his eyes and the way he’d taken care of me. I was used to being on my own, and I was already starting to rely on him. That was a dangerous game.

Especially when I couldn’t trust him.

Sure, I was grateful he’d taken me to see Delaney, but I still didn’t trust him. I’d bet good money he didn’t trust me either. Still…

“No. We should continue to pool our resources.”

He held my gaze for a moment, and I was pretty sure he was adding the same silent caveat that was running through my head.

For now.

I leaned my backside against the counter. “Before we go up in the attic, I need to see what kind of damage is inside my apartment and see if my laptop’s still there. I also have to find a handyman to replace my door.”

“I’ve already got someone coming to fix it,” he said, turning back to his computer and picking up his coffee mug.

I stared at him, my mouth dropping open, but I quickly closed it. “While that’s super convenient, I’m afraid I need to turn down your offer of help.”

“It’s not an offer of help,” he said, his gaze still on his screen. He started to tap on his keyboard again. “If we can find Hugo Burton’s murderer, call it payment.”

“Why are you so interested in Hugo Burton that you’re willing to pay me for it? What did this person you’re after actually do?”

He set down his mug and turned to face me again. “We’ve both admitted multiple times that we have our own reasons for wanting to find out the truth about Hugo Burton. Your goal is to find his murderer and bring them to justice. I have my own motivations. We both bring our own resources into this endeavor, and I plan to reward you for your help.” He tilted his head to the window. “Like fixing your door.”

“So you mean you’ve hired me.”

Aggravation covered his face. “That’s not what I said. That’s what you’re choosing to believe.”

He was right, and while I knew I should kick him out, I needed him more than I’d like to acknowledge. Especially since I was hurt.

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