Page 26 of Deceiving Grier

Iwasfinallyalonein the house. For the first time since I’d moved into Oliver McKenzie’s house almost a month ago, I had the place to myself. Both Jett and Grier were still at work and wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours, leaving me free to finally get a look at Oliver Mackenzie’s personal effects.

Still, even knowing I was alone, creeping up to the second floor, I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that I was doing something wrong, like a teenager trying to sneak out past curfew. Which was ridiculous. This was why I was living here, after all, to write about Oliver Mackenzie’s son mishandling the man’s legacy and very probably endangering three college students while he’d been doing it. So, why the hell was my skin slicked with cold sweat, and my stomach twisted in icy knots?

I already knew the answer, no matter how much I wanted to pretend I didn’t.Grier Miller.

I had crossed a line there, and while I was determined to keep whatever was going on with us completely separate from my story, in my gut, I knew this wouldn’t end well. Eventually, I would have to tell him about this story—I would want his take, his insights on the fire, and to know why Mackenzie put them up in this house and why Grier had agreed to let him.

It was that last part I was having the most trouble getting my head around. Grier Miller was one of the most honest and straightforward people I’d ever met. He just wasn’t the type of person to let some rich asshole buy his silence, at least I didn’t think so. After all, just because I’d slept with the manonetime didn’t mean I knew everything about him—and since that night, we’d barely had a chance to speak.

Grier had been gone from my bed when I woke up, leaving me alone and surprisingly disappointed. Well, maybe not entirely surprised. The guy had been so much better than I’d anticipated Incredibly responsive, and I was fairly sure he had a bit of a praise kink I definitely wanted to investigate. When I’d woken up the next morning, I’d wanted to do it all over again. Hell, I still did.

Grier slipping out of my bed at some time through the night didn’t come as a huge shock, though. I’m sure with the roommate pact, Grier didn’t want Jett to know we’d slept together, and Grier had already left for work by the time I got out of bed, so we didn’t get a chance to talk then, either.

We still hadn’t. Over the last few days, between practice, classes and work, we’d hardly seen each other. When we did speak, the conversation had been normal and superficial. Except for the blushes turning his face red, no one would have even guessed anything had ever happened between us.

I really hoped though, he’d just been busy over the past few days and that he wasn’t actually trying to avoid me. I didn’t want him to feel bad, embarrassed, or uncomfortable aboutanythingwe did. I really wanted to check in and make sure he was okay, but I didn’t want to crowd him either.

On the second floor, I followed the hallway past Jett’s bedroom and a bathroom to a door at the far end of the hall. It opened to a dark, narrow set of stairs that I climbed to the third floor. Under normal circumstances, I would have come up during the day when the sun was out, hoping for more light than the watery glow cast by the flashlight app on my phone, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, as the saying went.

Inside the attic, shadowy darkness closed in on me from all sides, and I couldn’t see anything. The falling rain was amplified up here, with only the roof between me and the elements and nothing else to muffle the sound. I swung the hand with my phone left to right in front of me, hoping that I could see something in the darkness and get a general feel for where things were.

The ceiling was low and sloped, following the angles of the roof. In the middle of the room, a long string dangled from a bulb mounted to a support beam overhead. I crept farther into the large room over to the dangling string. When I yanked it, yellow light fell over the room.

I had no idea what the space had contained in Oliver Mackenzie’s lifetime, but aside from about a dozen cardboard boxes stacked against the far wall, anything else that Mackenzie might have kept up there had been cleared away. The room was cold and heavy with the scent of dust and rain.

I made my way to the stacked boxes. Was this really all that was left of the man’s life? I thought about all he had done—Oceanwind Square would never have been without him—all he had been—teacher, mentor, activist—and all that remained of his life fit into a dozen cardboard boxes stashed and forgotten in an attic.

If a man like Oliver Mackenzie’s life amounted to nothing more than a dozen or so cardboard boxes in an attic, I hated to think about what would be left of my own. I doubted I had anything of value to fill a single box. If I dropped dead, my shit would be thrown away, the people I’d known would get on with their lives, and it would be as if I was never here at all.

That’s cheerful. I pushed the dark thoughts out of my head and focused on the task at hand.

Whoever had packed away Oliver Mackenzie’s things had also helpfully labeled the boxes—photographs, personal papers, and work documents. Thank god for small favors!

My heart beat faster, and my fingers itched to tear back the cardboard flaps. Unfortunately, whoever had packed away the boxes had also sealed them with packing tape. If I tore into them the way I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to seal them shut again, and if someone came up here and saw them open, it wouldn’t be long before they figured out who was responsible.

I wasn’t ready for my cover to be blown. I didn’t want anyone to know that I had an ulterior reason for moving in, that I hadn’t just moved in because this was a great house for a low rent.

I thought of Grier, and a thin fissure of guilt burrowed into my chest.

I stared down at the boxes and raked my finger through my hair. I would have to find packing tape before opening these boxes so I could re-seal them if I didn’t want anyone to figure out that I’d been up here going through them.

Though the likelihood of anyone else coming up here was pretty slim. I could probably open the boxes, look through their contents, then just come back later and tape them closed again. I doubted anyone would be up here and notice before I made it back with the tape.

A muffled thump from downstairs, and I froze. Footsteps moving across the floor beneath me followed, and my heart rate kicked up another notch. Jett or Grier must have finished early at work.

“Shit,” I whispered, tiptoeing back to the light and yanking the string. Darkness closed in around me. I wasn’t sure how much light would have spilled from the open door that might attract attention. Although, I probably needn’t have worried. The open attic door was probably proof enough that someone was up here.

I drew a deep breath and held it, listening for signs of life from downstairs, but there was nothing.

I needed to get out of there, preferably before someone realized it was me, and if someone did see me, I needed a plausible excuse for why I’d been up there that had nothing to do with Oliver Mackenzie or his boxes.

I could say I heard noises, scratching, maybe, blame it on animals and say I came to make sure there weren’t raccoons or squirrels nesting up here.

Carefully, I made my way back to the stairs, wincing every time the floor creaked under my feet. Once back down on the second floor, I closed the attic door, leaned back against it and listened to determine who was home. Only silence greeted me.

Frowning, I pushed away from the door and started down the hall. I knew someone was here. I’d heard them.

As I drew closer to Jett’s room, I noticed his light on and his door open a crack. Okay, so now I knewwhowas home. I just needed to figure out if he’d noticed anything regarding the attic.

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