Page 83 of Risks of Temptation
"Ezra and hers are both in the same area. I think we turn left, and it's only a few down."
"Good. Naomi's first then Ezra's if needed. Then we get out. If I instruct you to do anything, don't hesitate."
Her eyes brighten. She takes a deep breath and excitedly claims, "I'm ready."
Ma belle, what am I going to do with you?
I open the door. The office buzzes with people, but it's quieter than I expect. Employees are busy with computers at their cubicles, or milling around near the area where the news is recorded. Ezra is talking to several cameramen. Twenty feet down the hall is Naomi's office. We go in and shut the door.
Emilia gasps. "Why is this cleaned out?"
A metal desk sits in the middle of the room with nothing on it. I open the drawers, but they are all empty.
My gut drops. "Ezra was on the other side of the room. Let's get to his office quickly and see if he has anything."
Emilia scrunches her face. "You still haven't told me how you know him."
The air in the room becomes thicker. My pulse increases. "I'll tell you after. Let's go."
I check that no one is watching us and lead Emilia down the hall, opening and shutting the door with the Ezra Martinez nameplate.
Emilia points to a box on the table. "That's Naomi's stuff."
"You go through it. I'll search his desk."
She obeys, and I open several drawers, then take my gun and knife out of my bag. I jimmy the locked drawer for several minutes.
It pops open. It's full of files, and I search through it. "Finding anything?"
"Not yet." She has a small pile of items on the table.
I take a handful of files out and scan them. "This looks like personal stuff."
"I don't understand why Naomi's—"
The door opens. "Malin, what are you doing here?" Ezra seethes.
I pick up my gun and point it at him. "Get your hands in the air and shut the door."
He hesitates.
"Don't make me shoot."
He slowly raises his hands, steps in, and stands against the door. When the lock clicks, I wave my gun to the chair at the table. "Sit down."
He turns. His eyes widen. "Emilia, what are you doing?"
"Don't talk to her. Sit," I growl. "Grab that duct tape, Emilia."
Emilia doesn't move, staring at Ezra.
His voice turns soft. "Emilia—"
"Emilia, pick up the duct tape," I repeat.
She snaps out of it and picks it up.
"Lace your fingers together."
