Page 22 of The Burnt
Declan made a list of questions.
Why did Archie want to send a message to me?
Who is Milo?
Who was the man in the coat on the street? Was he Milo? Did he kill Archie?
Who else would want Archie dead?
Does any of this have anything to do with Freddy’s death?
Chapter Nine
Charlie opened his eyes. He stared at the ceiling for a minute before his hand reached out to Declan’s side of the bed. Nothing. Declan was gone.
What time is it?
The clock on Declan’s nightstand read 11:58 a.m.
“What the fuck?”
He’d slept the whole morning away. Not surprising given what they’d gotten up to after Declan’s call from his old partner.He should get calls like that more often.
Charlie climbed out of bed, went to the bathroom and rinsed his mouth out with mouthwash. His head was muddy from sleeping too long. He made the bed, then a cup of coffee. As he padded around the apartment, Charlie remembered that they were supposed to be running a business and he should open up. He threw on a pair of khakis and a shirt and made his way downstairs where he was confronted by the mess that camouflaged his desk. Charlie sighed.
“Ad for my replacement first, then I’ll tidy you up.”
He carefully stacked all of the files and invoices on the floor to give him and his coffee cup a chance to work.
Charlie located a copy of his original job description on his computer. Other than sleeping with the boss, the job of office manager hadn’t changed much since he’d started last year. He uploaded it to the same online job website that he’d used to get the job in the first place. His heart pounded as he hit ‘Post’.
Charlie’s train of thought was derailed by his stomach making a loud growl that sounded like a large cat trying to speak Swedish.
“Okay. Okay. Take it easy.”
He pushed back his chair then made his way down to Gwen’s café,Les Trois Magots.
“Good morning,” he chirped as he entered.
Gwen shot him a glance. “I don’t want to know why you’re so chipper.”
Charlie smiled. “Because it is a delightful, sunshiny winter’s day!”
“The only thing you’re missing are Snow White’s birds flitting about,” she said, wiggling her fingers around his head.
“Actually, what I’m missing is—” The cat in his stomach chattered away again.
“Ah, I see,” Gwen said. “Will it be the usual? Or can I entice you with one of my new treats, a breakfast bun consisting of a savoury scone surrounding a fried egg and brie? Or Roquefort if you’re more of the adventurous sort.”
He smiled and said, “Sort of a high-end McMuff—”
“If you dare finish that sentence, you will be barred from this shop for at least a year.”
From the look in her eye, Charlie knew she was serious.
“I think it sounds great. I’ll take one with brie, and a chocolate croissant. Please.”
A bag of baking in hand, Charlie mounted the stairs up to the office where he spent the next hour sorting all of the paperwork that had consumed his desk. He looked triumphantly at the now organised chaos that was stacked on chairs, the couch and the coffee table in the reception area. Filing would be next.
