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“I’ve gotta go. My special agent awaits,” I say, already halfway to the door.
“Millie,” Connor calls me back and I stop. “Please take your dogs.”
Chapter 26
Amelia
By the time I get back to my apartment complex, I’m more than ready for a relaxing bubble bath. Gus peed in the car and Shawn chewed up the solar-powered flashlight Connor gave me last year for Christmas in case of emergencies. Hopefully, there will be no emergencies in my future.
I trudge up the stairs to my apartment, the dogs at my heels nudging me forward. A door closes up the hallway and a familiar whistle carries through the corridor. A moment later Gary comes into view.
“Good morning, Miss Amelia.” He tips his nonexistent hat to me.
“Good morning, Gary.” I smile even though it’s nearly nine o’clock at night. “Can I help you back to your apartment?”
“That would be lovely dear, thank you.”
I take his arm, relieved I won’t have to follow him around for the next hour in case he forgets his way home. I don’t know many of my neighbors (read: none), but I do know I’m the only one who takes care of Gary. He seems chipper today, which is good. But I still wish he didn’t have to stay here alone in an apartment complex without necessary help while he continues to decline.
I yawn, exhausted by the thought and all the other problems I can’t fix.
“You didn’t get enough sleep,” Gary says as we reach his door.
“Nope,” I agree. I didn’t sleep well last night because I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about a very handsome FBI agent. But I’m more exhausted from this long day.
“I make a great chamomile tea. I’ll bring you some tonight. It will make all your worries disappear.”
I seriously doubt that. “That would be lovely, Gary, thank you.”
We reach his apartment and I wait until I hear his door fully click shut and lock before leaving.
I pull the dogs away from Gary’s flowers and trudge back to my apartment. I barely have the door open before the dogs dart inside, barking like crazy. My head pounds with each of their high-pitched yaps. I scoot them off the couch and drag them to my room one at a time. But that only makes them bark more so I toss a few milk bones in to them. From my phone, I turn on an old cop show Shawn likes. I need a few minutes to relax. With a bubble bath and some chocolate. I dig through the freezer until I find a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.
I kick off my shoes, yawning again as I open the bathroom door. It’s an absolute mess in here. When was the last time I cleaned? Or the first time? I clear a path to the bathtub and gag as I pinch the ball of yarn out of the toilet, dropping it into the trash.
Those dogs. They’re terrible listeners.
I throw open the shower curtain and my heart grinds to a halt. The world stops spinning. Or maybe it spins faster because I have to brace myself against a wall to remain upright.
My heart leaps to my throat, trapping the scream begging to escape. I need to scream and run because Justin is in my tub fully clothed, blood smeared down the front of his shirt from where a knitting needle has been impaled into his chest.
The lump finally dislodges from my throat, and I scream. A screech so strangled and foreign it can’t possibly be coming from me. My legs buckle beneath me and I stumble backward, my hand still clenched around the curtain. The whole rod follows, knocking the shower on. Cold water rains down over Justin.
He doesn’t move. Until the other end of the curtain rod rams into his head, knocking it over the side of the tub.
Bile rises up my throat and before I can stop it, it spews out.
All over Justin. If there was any question before, there isn’t now.
He’s dead.
What am I supposed to do? My useless brain is a scrambled mess and I can’t collect a coherent thought.
Justin. Dead. Tub.
The back of my eyes burn and tears blur my vision.
I reach out a quivering hand to turn off the water but accidentally push it to hot instead. Scalding water attacks me and I leap back.