Page 154 of Catch Me
“Ah, well, you know what I mean. He probably would’ve walked out as soon as they told him to leave his phone behind.”
“Fair enough,” I said, following it up with a casual chuckle.
Glancing slightly to the left, I saw Roman running his hand over a wall. He rose up on his toes, then dropped back down. When he turned in my direction, I stepped away from the bookshelf and looked at the books again. It seemed pointless to have this if there wasn’t a secret inside of it.
Roman was getting closer, and I considered moving somewhere else, but it was stupid to actively avoid him at all times. I wasn’t going to run away every time he got close to me.
He continued to run his hand along the wall, then transferred it to the bookshelf. As he dragged it over the books, I started to wonder if he was just doing some bullshit.
“I already checked them,” I said.
The corner of his mouth lifted, but he didn’t respond. When he was right next to me, I stepped back. I needed to know.
“What are you doing?”
He ignored me, then stopped moving. With two fingers, he felt the spine of a book.
“Roman.”
He looked at me for the first time since getting here. I felt rooted to the spot, not because his eyes were on me but because of what was in them. He was just open, unguarded. I didn’t really know how to read him, but I thought he looked curious.
“What?” he asked.
I gave him an expectant look.
“You said my name,” he reminded me.
Shit, I did. “What are you doing?”
“Following clues.”
“What clues?”
“Find your own.”
Pursing my lips, I watched him move his finger down the spine, then to the lower shelf.
“Isn’t this about teamwork?”
Looking up at me, he seemed to almost smile. “You wanna work with me, Travis?”
I swallowed and clenched my fists. “Sure. It’s just a game.”
“Okay.”
He straightened and motioned for me to follow him to the wall he’d been studying before. When he put one finger on it, I touched the spot beside it, but I didn’t feel anything. He huffed and tapped the wall a few inches away. It felt different, like there was a deep scratch across it.
Realizing what he’d done, I followed it to the bookshelf, then to the place he was at before.
“The spirit dragged something along here on its way to this clue,” he mused. “I’m thinking that whatever made the mark is stored in...this.” He touched one of the books.
“Why do you think that?” I asked, feeling a little smug since I already knew that he was wrong.
“Because there’s only one line, which means it didn’t walk away with it.”
“Or it just didn’t drag it on the wall.”
“Let’s see.” He tipped the book forward, whereas I’d tried to pull on it. With a smile, he slid a compartment from the bottom of the book. Inside, there was half a pair of scissors.
