Page 7 of Dangerous Rhythm

Curtis’ brow rose at her change of demeanor. “What is it? You have your alert face. You only have that look when you feel something might be amiss.”

Once again, he surprised her with his knowledge of her. First the tea. Now he also recognized a look she had?

Never mind that. Focus, Lina.

“Do you smell that?” Lina asked.

“Yeah.” He suddenly looked annoyed and beelined to a trash receptacle built into the kitchen cabinet. As he opened it, he mumbled, “Of all the things to be alarmed about, you worry about my trash?”

“I don’t think it’s your trash.” She went to where he stood looking confused at a mostly empty bin. The smell didn’t come from there.

“Maybe something died in the wall,” Curtis said, sniffing the air. “Shit.”

The hair on the back of Lina’s neck really stood up this time. She trusted her instinct and followed the stench, which became stronger as she got closer to a medium box stuck under one of the island stools. She got down to one knee to confirm her suspicion.

It’s definitely something dead.

Putting on her leather gloves, she brought up the box and set it on the island.

“What is that?” Curtis frowned, then remembered. “Ah yeah, that was at my door last night when Jill and I came in. But we were…ah, in the middle of something. I kinda just kicked it in.”

Lina heard but didn’t acknowledge Curtis’ explanation. Her focus was on the box. The smell was definitely coming from it. She examined the box. There was no marking of a sender’s name or a delivery service other than Curtis’ name and address on one flap. And there was no other sign that made her think it was something more than what she suspected.

She took her pocketknife from the inside of her jacket and was about to slice open the duct tape sealing the box.

“Whoa, should you do that?” Curtis reached a hand toward her.

Lina threw him a warning look that he understood. He backed off and waited as she cut the box open. The foul reek that wafted out made Curtis gag and fall back even farther. She had smelled worse things, but the sight of a dead rat stabbed with a stiletto in the heart was still a disturbing sight, even to her.

“Call the police,” she said evenly.

Curtis sat on the couch, hunched—his eyes unfocused on the rug. He knew Detective Bolts was talking, but his words didn’t penetrate Curtis’ mind as the events of the past hour swirled in his head.

After seeing the content of the box Lina had opened, he’d barely been able to hold in the contents of his stomach, let alone call the police as she’d instructed. It wasn’t the dead rat itself, but the shock of it.

Lina, on the other hand, was a rock. She’d closed the box and, after seeing his face, told him to take a shower and get ready. He must’ve just stood there like an idiot because, after removing her gloves and jacket, she’d gently taken him up the stairs to his bedroom loft.

“Take a breather. A warm shower will calm your nerves,” she’d told him, her voice surprisingly soothing. Her arm around his back was steadying. “I’ll take care of it,” she’d promised before she closed the door behind her.

She was right. Freshly showered and dressed, he’d felt somewhat normal. But when he’d heard voices below, he realized nothing was normal. Detective Bolts had arrived with another detective from the major crimes unit whose name he didn’t remember. They were both now staring down at him as if he understood what was going on.

“Yeah. Go-bag’s in the office. Thanks, Marcus,” Lina’s voice talking on the phone pierced Curtis’ daze. The couch shifted as she sat next to him. Her next words addressed the detectives. “Like I told you earlier, Curtis knows nothing about the box. He found it by his door last night, kicked it in, and didn’t notice it again until we smelled something foul.”

“You didn’t smell that last night?” The older detective questioned in disbelief. “A dead rat?”

The box in questioned had been sealed in an evidence bag, but both detectives had seen and smelled the content.

“I was preoccupied last night,” Curtis finally said something. “I barely smelled anything until Lina said something earlier.”

“It was tightly sealed,” Lina added.

“Were you with Mr. Bisset last night?” Detective Bolts questioned Lina.

“No. I arrived at nine-fifty-five this morning to check on Mr. Bisset because of the recent development,” she answered. “Look, detectives. We know what that box is supposed to mean. It’s a threat against my client. Instead of questioning him, why don’t you figure out the mole in your department? Marcus told me he made sure only a select few knew Curtis’ name, but somebody must’ve leaked it. How else could the Stilettos find out about him?”

Detective Bolts looked insulted by Lina’s direct question but couldn’t argue.

“Miss Cheung, we can’t be sure this is the work of the Stilettos—”

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