Page 89 of His Ruthless Match
My phone pinged with a new email, and I snatched it off my desk, grateful for the distraction from the files I was scanning through for another case. It was from Genevieve, forwarding the physician’s report from her visit yesterday. I scanned through it quickly. MRI: normal. Bloodwork: within range. Every test result came back clean. Nothing, absolutely nothing, explained her behavior. It didn’t make sense.
I hit the call button next to Genevieve’s name. She answered on the first ring.
“Eva,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. I could tell she was trying to put on a brave face, but she sounded awful. “Thank you for calling.”
“How are you holding up?”
Genevieve let out a shaky sigh. “I’m… I don’t know. I wish I could move to another hotel. I know you said to stay put, but I can’t stand it here.”
“What’s wrong with the hotel?”
“It’s a fucking rat,” she said. “This huge, disgusting rat keeps showing up in my room. And it’s always the same one! It looks like it’s been electrocuted and then got rabies.”
I chuckled at her description. “Genevieve, are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” she snapped. “I hate rodents, Eva. I need to get out of here.”
Was this another clue? Or was Genevieve starting to lose it? “Listen, you can’t move hotels right now. You need to stay out of the public eye for a while longer.”
“I can’t live like this,” she muttered. “I’m losing my mind.”
“I’ll call the front desk and make sure they send pest control to deal with it.”
“I’ve already complained,” she said weakly.
“Leave it to me,” I reassured her. “I’ll take care of it.”
Genevieve sniffled, and I could hear the exhaustion in her voice when she spoke again. “I just wish we could figure out what was going on so I could get back to my life.”
“I’ve got people working on it,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Before she could press further, my call waiting beeped in my ear. “Genevieve, I’ve got another call coming in. I’ll check back with you soon, okay?”
“Okay. Thank you, Eva.”
I switched over to the incoming call. “Gabe,” I said. “What do you have for me?”
“Something weird,” he said immediately. Jareth stood in the corner, so I put Gabe on speakerphone. “I’ve been cross-referencing the social media posts with nearby security footage. One of the videos, the one of Genevieve outside the gas station? Something’s off. Really fucking off.”
I sat up straighter. “What do you mean by ‘off’?”
“The footage doesn’t look natural,” Gabe explained. “I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s like it’s been tampered with. I don’t know how, but something isn’t right.”
I frowned. “Tampered with how?”
“I’m not sure,” Gabe admitted. “But I’m sending you the videos now. Take a look and tell me if you see what I’m seeing.”
“Thanks, Gabe,” I said. “I’ll be in touch.”
I ended the call and opened my email, quickly downloading the footage Gabe had sent. Jareth wandered over, standing behind me as I clicked play. His presence was impossible to ignore—broad shoulders looming over me, the heat of his breath on the back of my neck. It distracted the hell out of me.
“Stop there,” Jareth said suddenly, pointing at the screen. “Go back.”
I rewound the footage and hit play again. “What am I looking for?”
“Her feet. Watch.”
I squinted at her feet. At first, I saw nothing, then I caught a tiny flash of light near Genevieve’s feet. Barely noticeable, but definitely there.
“What the hell?” I muttered, leaning closer to the screen. “What is that?”
