of this was her fault.
Aiden grabbed her elbow, making her look at him. The grim expression on his face confirmed that he had the same suspicion as she and feared the worst. It didn’t exactly calm her nerves.
A ping announced the arrival of the elevator. As soon as the doors opened, she squeezed inside quickly and hit the button for the eighth floor.
They didn’t speak while the elevator ascended. Instead, Leila fixed her gaze on the display panel that showed their movement from floor to floor. It felt like it moved at a snail’s pace. The local bus could have gotten them there faster.
“We should have taken the stairs,” she muttered.
Then she felt Aiden’s hand on her arm, squeezing it in reassurance. She glanced at him and noticed a flicker of compassion in them. It disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Maybe she had simply seen what she wanted to see, even though she guessed the hard man next to her had no capacity for such emotion. Hell, he’d coldly demanded that she destroy her own research without as much as flinching. If somebody could do that, knowing he would deprive thousands if not millions of people of a cure for a devastating disease, what else was he capable of?
Leila let out a sigh of relief when the doors finally opened on the executive floor. She rushed out, heading for Patten’s office. As she approached, she found the door wide open.
She stormed in, Aiden on her heels.
The room was lit, the fluorescent lights illuminating the space, the small lamp that normally stood on Patten’s desk lay broken on the ground in front of it—next to Patten’s body.
A choked cry tried to leave her throat but didn’t quite make it. Her breath deserted her. But her feet carried her closer, almost as if some perverted part of her wanted to gorge itself on the sight. She needed to know how he’d died.
Leila stared at the lifeless form at her feet. Blood oozed from his neck, having soaked his shirt and tie. The wound looked straight and almost . . . perfect, as if the murderer knew what he was doing. Her gaze drifted to Patten’s hands. And there, as if she needed a confirmation, one thumb was missing, cut from his right hand.
A sob worked its way up from her chest and past the lump in her throat that prevented her from speaking. She’d seen dead bodies before: in medical school, and during her time as a medical resident. But this was different. This wasn’t clinical, this wasn’t expected. This was a brutal crime.
All this so somebody could get to her research? Didn’t that make it her fault?
Sounds from the corridor made her lift her head. Aiden’s eyes bounced to the door, then back to her.
“Somebody’s coming. Not a word, promise me, don’t say a single word,” he ordered.
She nodded automatically. As if she could say anything while she fought the bout of nausea that developed in her stomach as the metallic scent of blood drifted into her nostrils.
Aiden pulled her aside, away from the body, and she didn’t have the strength to fight him this time. By now, somehow, her brain had figured out that he wouldn’t hurt her, even though she knew she couldn’t fully trust him—and could never tell him that a last copy of her research data still existed.
He pulled her closer to him as suddenly several people trampled into the room. The first one, she recognized instantly: Max. Behind him three other men barged in.
“Right here, officer,” Max pointed at Patten’s body. “I was doing my rounds when I found him.”
Police, she registered instantly, relieved that they had finally arrived.
As two of the men knelt down next to the body, the heavy set one Max had addressed, spoke. “Are you the only one in the building, Mr. Flanagan?”
Max shook his head. “No, Dr. Cruickshank is still working too, actually . . . I should check on her in her lab, make sure she’s all right.”
Why would Max need to check in her lab when she was right here? Leila opened her mouth, wanting to speak up, but Aiden’s hand clamped over her mouth to prevent her from talking. Before she could protest, his mouth was at her ear, his warm breath caressing her skin as he whispered to her so low she barely heard him.
“Don’t make a sound. I’ll explain later.”
Confusion made her vocal cords constrict. Why didn’t Max or the other people acknowledge her