Page 75 of A Breath of Life
Pondering, I carried the box of framed photos with me into the sparsely decorated bedroom. The walls were bare. No pictures on the dresser or end tables. No personal touches.
I set the box down and checked inside the drawers of the end tables. The usual collection of items resided inside. Tissues. Pens. Notebooks. Loose change. Nothing specific to a woman. No perfume. No hair ties. No distinctly feminine jewelry. Not that a lack of evidence was conclusive, but it was noteworthy.
I returned to the closet, logging the clothing that remained. It was distinctly masculine. Curious, I removed one of the pictures of the woman and disassembled the frame. On the back, someone had scrawled a name and the date.Janessa. August 2021.
I did the same with the rest of the photographs. Only one other was marked with information.Honeymoon in Italy. May 2024.
I carried the collection of photos to the living room and performed a similar inspection of the walls and décor before reaching a plausible conclusion.
“Hey, D?”
He grunted from where he disassembled a kitchen junk drawer.
“Clarence was married to a woman named Janessa in May of 2024.”
Diem paused what he was doing, gaze shifting left and right as he seemed to take it in. “Okay. And?”
“And he has a box of pictures in the bedroom closet, but there’s nothing in the apartment to indicate a woman lives here or that he even shares with anyone. This is a bachelor’s pad. It lacks character or personality.”
Diem turned introspective as he scanned the apartment. “So they broke up?”
“That’s what I figure, but maybe she knows how to get hold of him. We have a name and photographs. That’s enough for you to find her, isn’t it?”
“Probably.” He held out a hand, and I gave him one of the pictures of the couple.
“He could be hiding out at her place, assuming their relationship ended amicably.”
Diem scowled at the image, absently nodding. He returned the picture and resumed his search.
“Did you find anything?”
He tapped a battered notebook that he had set aside. “Clarence kept a detailed list of all his passwords. No laptop or computer that I can find, but…” He plucked a paper from beside the notebook and showed me. “I found a bank statement, too. The account and branch are listed on the form. I’ll be able to log into his bank account once I get to the office.”
It was solid. If Clarence had any unusual spending habits or made recent purchases, it could help us locate him.
After another twenty minutes of searching, we called it a night.
Diem collected a few bits of paperwork that seemed to interest him and instructed me to grab the box of photos and mementos that gave hints about Clarence’s wife. We descended the stairs to the first level and exited the main doors.
It was after one, and the street was quiet. As we wandered back to the Jeep, I caught Diem checking inside parked cars and between buildings. Alert, body taut and ready.
He had dismissed the man in plain view, who sat on a concrete dividing wall immediately outside the complex with his glittery gold Converse-covered feet kicked up as he scrolled on his phone and smoked a cigarette. To Diem, he must have been a nobody resident, having a puff before heading to bed.
I knew better, and as we walked past him, the man glanced up. For the first time, our gazes clashed, and he knew that I knew.
20
Diem
The shower ran. Echo slept on the couch. Alone, I dug through the freezer until I found the bottle of Jim Beam I’d stashed behind the box of frozen fish Tallus hated. My nerves were shot. Too many hours on alert, searching for a tail, and worrying about Nana had destroyed my self-control.
I uncapped the bottle and drank deeply, savoring the burn as the liquor coated my throat and pooled warmth in my belly. Tallus could bitch and moan and give me all the wrinkled-nose-faces he wanted. I was at the end of my rope and needed something to cushion the anxiety. It was this or smoking, and I didn’t have any cigarettes.
Another long swig. My blood tingled pleasantly. I carried the bottle with me as I made a circuit of the apartment, checking locks and ensuring the curtains were pulled flush. I may not have seen Ace’s cronies out on the street, but they were there. I felt their presence in my bones. My skin crawled every time I was in the open. At least inside the apartment, I felt a modicum safer.
While Tallus was occupied, I dug through the closet in the bedroom and found the lockbox containing my pistol. I had a permit to carry but hadn’t strapped it on since leaving the police department many years ago. The knife pressed against my calf already upset my equilibrium. I didn’t trust myself with weapons. Self-control was a fickle thing on a good day. I was my own weapon and hard enough to control. I didn’t need an arsenal at my disposal, but the lingering threat made it hard to breathe, demanding drastic measures.
Whenever my mind strayed to images of Tallus or Nana getting hurt, I thought I might self-destruct.
