Page 16 of My End
But damn if she wasn’t starting to haunt me in ways I didn’t like to admit. The way she smiled. The way she stared. The way her voice cut through the silence like something soft and dangerous.
And now?
It was like she didn’t exist.
If it weren’t for the occasional tray Adam carted upstairs, I might have thought she’d left entirely.
But no, she was up there. Painting. Hiding.
And everyone else just went on like that was normal.
The kitchen was already buzzing when I walked in, and the sun was creeping over the hedges outside. Billy laughed over something Jeff had said, and Adam slid scrambled eggs onto a platter like it was just another day in paradise.
“Morning, Jake,” Adam said without looking up. “You hungry or just pretending to be too tough for breakfast?”
I grabbed a stool at the island and dropped into it. “Starving.”
A plate appeared in front of me two seconds later. Eggs, bacon, toast, and a wedge of cantaloupe so bright it almost hurt to look at.
I dug in without hesitation.
“Any excitement overnight?” Jeff asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing but a raccoon trying to climb the east trellis.”
Billy smirked. “That’s the most action this place has seen since the fundraiser last month.”
I chased a bite with coffee and leaned back. “That fundraiser, the one with the reporters?”
Jeff nodded. “And the donors. Boone pulled out the big guns. Local guys. State reps. Some feds, too.”
I pretended not to care, but my ears locked in on every word.
“What’s the deal with the east wing anyway?” I asked casually and grabbed a piece of toast. “Every time I walk past it, feels like I’m being watched.”
All three of them froze for a split second before brushing it off.
“Old offices,” Billy said. “Mostly storage now. Boone keeps a lot of his old campaign junk in there.”
“Really?” I asked. “Doesn’t seem like a lot of junk needs that much security.”
Adam smirked. “You saying you want to clean it out for him? Pretty sure there’s a paper shredder down there with your name on it.”
Everyone chuckled, but I could feel the shift. They didn’t want to talk about it.
Fine.
I’d find another way in.
Around mid-morning, after I took a nap, I was doing a standard perimeter walk when I caught something that didn’t fit.
Just past the front hedges, a black SUV idled in the turnaround. Unmarked. Tinted windows. No logos.
Not unusual on its own.
But Jim was standing beside the driver’s window, with a clipboard in hand, and a sleek silver case open at his feet. It was empty.
I ducked behind one of the tall marble columns that flanked the main entry and peeked around just enough to observe.
