know this is illegal, technically breaking and entering and I look over my shoulder before closing the door behind me. I swallow hard and let out an uneasy breath as I look around the living room.
Residence to Miss Robin Everly. Or former residence, unbeknownst to the rest of the world.
I walk easily into the cozy space. It’s a small ranch house that’s fairly dated, but her furniture and décor are modern and mostly simple. It’s the pop of colors and textures that give it life. They seem odd knowing the bit of her she’s shown me.
There’s a professionalism about the room. Organization that seems more fit for a home design magazine, but the colors are cheery. Bright teal in the designs of the throw pillows and pale yellow stripes on the curtains and rugs. There are a scattering of teal flowers and motivational sayings like ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ on the pictures throughout the place.
As if she needs to be surrounded by something to keep out the stark and cold emptiness that would be left if those pieces were removed.
I ignore them for a moment, feeling my stomach churn at the thought of her being here instead of in the cabin. My phone is heavy in my hand as I watch the screen for a moment.
I have six cameras – not like the one Jay has set up in the basement. This way I can watch everything, at all times. He doesn’t know a thing about them, and he doesn’t need to. This is my insurance. I stare at the screen, watching how she sits across from the dog. She’s cross-legged and the dog’s laying down, but eyeing her curiously.
I wonder if Jay told her Toby is for emotional support. My fingers itched to touch her hand, to hold it while I let Toby approach her. Jay was right when he said she was damaged. He was right when he said she needed help.
I could help her. And I will. With or without Jay. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to do this right.
The only reason I’m not there now is that I need to know more about her. And see if I can find the evidence Jay left behind. The anger rises slowly. It’s always like that when I think of Jay. A slow rise that turns to a simmer. Usually the thought that he can’t help it is enough to calm me, but he fucking set me up. He forced my hand, and that’s something that’s unforgivable.
I slip the phone into my back pocket, turning my head to the window on the left side of the room as the gentle city traffic is disrupted with a honking horn.
I’m quiet as I walk through the house, greeted only by silence. My instinct is to go to her bedroom, but when the door creaks open and I peek in, I see her bed first. The sheets and comforter are in disarray and there’s broken glass on the floor.
Fuck! Jay told me he left evidence, but I didn’t expect it to be something so fucking obvious.
I grit my teeth and go back to the tiny galley kitchen, reaching into my other back pocket for the thin black leather gloves. I’m careful with every step.
The cabinets are old and worn. I have to go through three of them before I find the dust pan. I take my time, cleaning up the room and wiping down every surface I can think of. All the while I take in every inch of her place.
What’s most odd is that it feels like I’ve already been here. Especially the bedroom. It feels like I know her, like we aren’t strangers in the least. I can’t shake the feeling; I haven’t been able to since I first laid eyes on that photograph.
I toss the rag I’ve been using to wipe down surfaces into the trash bag in her kitchen as the unsettling thought passes through me.
I make a mental note to take the trash with me on the way out. No piece of evidence left behind. I don’t know when she’ll be back…
I was going to let her go this morning. I was ready to take her with me. I’d do what I have to do with Jay and plead with her to stay with me until I figured a way out, but she was so willing to remain when I left. So unlike what I anticipated.
It feels like a trap.
I let the unfinished thought slip