The Mercenary Next Door (Rogues and Rescuers #2) - Lucy Leroux Page 0,66
in the closet. Improbably wide and too high for her, Laila had a difficult time organizing her clothes without bunching everything in the front. But it was a small inconvenience. She was just glad to be here with Mason.
Wondering if it was worth rearranging her clothing again, she picked up her phone and started when she saw the number of messages received.
Only the two newest were from Rosalie. One was a short and sweet text from Mason telling her he’d prepared pancake mix, and he’d left it waiting for her in the fridge. There was also a voicemail from Detective Silano, telling her they hadn’t been able to get Joseph to make a statement. His lawyers were stonewalling.
The rest of the messages were from Joseph.
She sat on the floor where she stood, scrolling through the texts. Most were pleas to meet. None mentioned Jasmine or a visit from the police. Shaking her head, she racked her brain. Laila had to do something—anything.
Then she frowned, considering the phone in her hand.
When Ransom dropped off Rosamie, she had a plan.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rosamie grabbed her arm, gripping it tight before relaxing and letting it go with a loud whoosh.
“Sorry,” her friend apologized when she saw she’d left nail marks on Laila’s forearm. “I thought I saw him.”
“Yes, me too. But it was only someone who kind of looks like Joseph,” Laila assured her.
They were across the street from her ex’s building, watching the lobby from the busy window seat of a taco shop. The man who’d just rounded the corner and passed them had been close in height with similar coloring, but his features had been far sharper. Nevertheless, the resemblance had been close enough to nearly give her a heart attack.
“Have there been any sightings of him on campus?” she asked, willing her racing heart to slow. She spoke without turning, her eye on the distant figure of the security guard in the lobby of Joe’s building.
Rosamie hunched over her phone.
“Not today, but according to my spies, he was at the frat all last night. He’s been there every night this week, sending the pledges on stupid missions and partying like nothing is wrong.”
She wrinkled her cute snub nose. “In fact, according to Juan, he’s been drinking a lot more than usual at those things.”
“Yes, you mentioned that.” It was part of the reason Laila had decided to break into Joseph’s apartment.
It’s not breaking and entering if you have the key, she reminded herself.
“I can’t believe you want to do this,” Rosamie said after a pause. “I’m the one who comes up with the crazy plans—not you.”
“It’s not that crazy,” Laila whispered, checking over her shoulder furtively. It was irrational, but she kept expecting Mason to appear over her shoulder, his handsome face glowering in disapproval.
Oh, you know it would be much worse than that. Mason would be furious if he found out she was putting herself at risk this way. It both warmed and terrified her.
“We have to do this,” she said aloud. “I think we are the only ones who can.”
“How?” Rosamie asked. “We’re not exactly crack detectives. As far as I can tell, your plan begins and ends with getting in and out of Joseph’s apartment without being seen. Are you seriously expecting to find some evidence lying around? It’s not like the party was here—it was at Alpha Omega.”
“I’m aware of that. And I don’t expect Joseph to have left anything that could incriminate him on purpose, but you said so yourself—he’s partying a lot at the moment. I may not know him as well as I thought I did, but I know enough. Joe’s drinking and rallying the frat brothers around himself in a desperate effort to pretend everything is all right. When the alcohol clears, he’s going to come to his senses, then we’ll lose our opportunity.”
“To do what again? I’m still lost.”
Laila took out her cell, then showed Rosamie the picture.
Rosamie’s mouth flattened. “Why are you showing me a poorly drawn cartoon penis?”
“Do you not see the map?” Laila gestured to the picture again.
Rosamie squinted at the picture again. “Oh, yeah. It’s the campus, right?”
“Yes. It’s one of those GPS-generated images.” Laila set down her phone. “He sent me this a few weeks ago. It was a frat stunt. They all ran around campus, trying to make obscene pictures. But he didn’t know how to turn on the GPS tracking so it generated an image like this, so I did it for him.”