Page 73 of A Breath of Life
Diem motioned to the lock. “Either open it, or I will. This conversation is over.”
“Can we revisit it later?”
“No.”
Sighing, I handed Diem back the kit. “Go ahead. I can’t do it in under a minute anyhow. I would never have won.”
He stared at the door and the tools for a long time, but Diem’s mind was far away. Eventually, he turned to me and offered the kit back. “No bruises or teeth marks and I will not slap your ass. I can’t…” A strangled note entered his voice. “I won’t… hit you. But… Maybe… If you do it in under three minutes, I’ll… I’ll consider a hickey.”
“Really?”
He nodded but turned an ugly shade of green, and I felt bad for even suggesting something I knew he didn’t want to do.
“How about this instead. If I get the lock open in under three minutes, you owe me a dance.”
Diem quirked a brow, a smile tugging at his mouth. “You mean a bump and grind?”
I wiggled my brows. “Foreplay, Guns.”
“At home?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Deal.”
I lifted to my toes and planted a delicate kiss at the corner of his mouth. “I love you, D.”
His features softened, but a hint of distress remained. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.”
“Three minutes. I’ll keep watch.”
I popped the lock in one minute and fifty-seven seconds. Pride swelled in my chest when Diem softly whispered, “Good job.”
19
Tallus
Diem insisted on going inside first, leaving me in the entryway, but the apartment’s open concept meant I had a direct view of the situation the instant he turned on a light. Two things were immediately clear. Clarence’s apartment had been tossed, and whoever had been there had definitely been looking for something.
“Holy shit. What the hell happened in here?” Ignoring Diem’s request that I hang back, I wandered into the main living area, spinning in place.
Although it seemed like a nice-looking apartment, painted in neutral colors with classy furniture and prints on the walls, it was no longer showcase-ready. The couch cushions were on the floor, sliced and spilling stuffing. The drawers to the cabinets hung open, contents dumped in a heap. Most of the books on the bookshelves had been toppled. Debris littered every surface. The kitchen was much the same, cupboards rummaged through, packaged food discarded without care.
I half-feared Diem was going to announce the discovery of a dead body when he vanished down a hallway. No lingering scent of putrefaction hung in the air, but if dear old Clarence had died that day or late the previous, the scent of death might not be present yet.
Returning, Diem announced, “He packed and ran. The closet is full of empty hangers. Essential bathroom items are gone.”
Diem didn’t seem surprised at the discovery, and I wondered again how he’d known that Clarence wouldn’t be here. He examined the mess with a pinched expression I couldn’t read.
“Do you think whoever did this was after him because of the card?”
Surprise lifted Diem’s brows before the expression shifted to a frown. “Why would you say that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why would you say that?” he asked with more steel.
