Page 69 of A Breath of Life
I did not look back to see if Converse Man was behind us.
Diem drove randomly around downtown, weaving along streets seemingly aimlessly. Echo fell asleep in the back, and I grew tired of asking where we were going and getting no answer. I wanted to gohome to bed. We’d both slept like shit the previous night, but Diem had other plans.
At a quarter after eleven, he parked in the same spot on the same side street near Clarence’s apartment. Traffic had considerably thinned. No pedestrians in sight. Thin pools of yellow from the sodium streetlights lined both sides of the road.
Diem turned off the engine and spent far too long checking mirrors as though waiting for his elusive stalker to show his face. I scanned, too, but my target was more specific. Hi Glitter Converse wasn’t around, or rather, if he was, I didn’t see him. The arrival of nightfall meant he had shadows in which to hide.
Seemingly satisfied we were alone, Diem lugged a duffle bag from the back seat—disturbing Echo’s slumber—and rooted through it. He extracted a few random tools and pocketed them, including his trusty lockpicking kit.
I frowned. “Why do we need that?”
Diem refused to answer the redundant question. He tossed a pair of nitrile gloves into my lap before taking a second pair for himself.
“Why do I need these?”
“Fingerprints.”
I waited for more explanation, but none came. His intention was obvious, but his communication skills had gone out the window some time ago, leaving me floundering with puzzle pieces and no picture to help me assemble them.
I tucked the gloves into a pocket. “D, I love you wholly and completely but with full doses of aggravation mixed in most days. I’m fairly competent when it comes to reading your mind, but I’m going to need you to spell this one out for me. Why are we breaking into Clarence’s apartment?”
He paused and glanced along the dark street as he worked his jaw. “Because… Clarence isn’t home.”
I waited.
Diem continued digging through the duffle.
I prayed for strength. “And you know this how?”
He withdrew two compact flashlights, tested them, and handed me one. “Clip it to a belt loop.”
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“No.”
“Why?”
No response.
The last thing Diem removed from the duffle was a thin, long-sleeved shirt. He shook it out and threw it at me. “Put this on. You’re too bright.”
Confused, I examined the garment. Black. My size, not his. The pale dress shirt I’d worn to work would stand out in the dark. “Wait. Do you keep this in there for me?”
“Yes.”
“It has tags on it.”
“Put it on.”
“Guuuns… is this because you anticipated I might tag along when you did your—”
“Shut up and don’t make it a thing. It’s a fucking shirt, Tallus, and you glow in the dark otherwise.”
“Aww, my cuddle bear planned for the eventuality of me joining him on a stakeout. Your love knows no bounds.”
“It’s not a stakeout. It’s B&E, and I didn’t plan for anything.”
“Did so.”
