Page 34 of A Breath of Life (Shadowy Solutions #4)

Tallus

D iem insisted on going inside first, leaving me in the entryway, but the apartment’s open concept meant I had a direct view of the situation the instant he turned on a light.

Two things were immediately clear. Clarence’s apartment had been tossed, and whoever had been there had definitely been looking for something.

“Holy shit. What the hell happened in here?” Ignoring Diem’s request that I hang back, I wandered into the main living area, spinning in place.

Although it seemed like a nice-looking apartment, painted in neutral colors with classy furniture and prints on the walls, it was no longer showcase-ready.

The couch cushions were on the floor, sliced and spilling stuffing.

The drawers to the cabinets hung open, contents dumped in a heap.

Most of the books on the bookshelves had been toppled.

Debris littered every surface. The kitchen was much the same, cupboards rummaged through, packaged food discarded without care .

I half-feared Diem was going to announce the discovery of a dead body when he vanished down a hallway. No lingering scent of putrefaction hung in the air, but if dear old Clarence had died that day or late the previous, the scent of death might not be present yet.

Returning, Diem announced, “He packed and ran. The closet is full of empty hangers. Essential bathroom items are gone.”

Diem didn’t seem surprised at the discovery, and I wondered again how he’d known that Clarence wouldn’t be here. He examined the mess with a pinched expression I couldn’t read.

“Do you think whoever did this was after him because of the card?”

Surprise lifted Diem’s brows before the expression shifted to a frown. “Why would you say that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why would you say that?” he asked with more steel.

“We figured Clarence wanted to dump the card on us because it was stolen, right?” I motioned to the mess.

“Clearly, whoever he stole it from came looking for it… or him.” It sounded logical to me.

Why was Diem getting his shirt in a knot?

“The guy is in hot water, and he knows it, so he ran.” I shrugged.

Diem rubbed a hand over his jaw and winced before gently prodding his swollen nose.

“Do you think I’m right?”

“It’s possible,” he mumbled.

“What do we do? Leave the card here? Pretend we never had it? It’s Clarence’s problem. Let him deal with the blowback.”

“No. We find Clarence.”

“Maybe we should turn it over to the police.” Money or not, with the state of the apartment, I no longer wanted anything to do with the stupid card.

“No. We find Clarence.” Diem’s tone brooked no argument .

“Okay. We find Clarence.” No sense in causing another argument. Diem seemed adamant.

I scanned the mess, debating logistics and Diem’s insistence. Wasn’t he the one who originally wanted to give it to the police or toss it in a dumpster? The card dangled from his wrist, and it seemed he wouldn’t part with it unless it was to hand it over to Clarence.

Why the change of heart? Why now?

Diem squatted and riffled through a pile of discarded papers.

His pinched expression and the room’s lighting made the bruises on his face stand out in sharp relief.

I considered them. His broken nose. The mysterious men who had beaten him.

His absence the other night. Diem’s certainty that danger lurked in the shadows.

Mr. Hi Glitter Gold Converse.

It dawned on me all at once. The card, the unexplained beating, and the man following us were connected.

I tumbled over information to see if those puzzle pieces fit.

Yes. I was sure of it, but how? Why? Were the men who hurt Diem looking for the card?

Had Clarence stolen it from them? Did Diem have it the night he went to visit his nana?

Why hadn’t he handed it over? Diem didn’t care about the money.

Had he concealed it somehow? Why didn’t the men search him, find it, and take it back?

I was still missing something.

They had clearly threatened him. That much was obvious.

With what?

“Are you going to help or stand there?”

I jolted. “Help? What am I helping with?”

“We need to figure out where Clarence took off to.”

“Oh. Right. So we can return the card.”

Diem glanced up from perusing debris, brows angled gravely. “Yes, Tallus. ”

“I’ll start in the bedroom.”

A maelstrom wreaked havoc on my brain as I headed down the hall. If what I believed was close to the truth, why didn’t Diem tell me? Why the secrecy?

I shoved the million questions eating me alive aside as I contemplated Clarence’s bedroom.

The area was sparsely decorated compared to the living room.

A double bed, end tables, a wide dresser, and a cat tree.

The latter gave me pause. We hadn’t encountered an animal. Had Clarence taken his pet with him?

The doors to a walk-in closet stood open, displaying empty hangers and a few bare shelves like Diem had noted.

Underneath were shoe mats with a few empty spots I suspected were ordinarily filled.

Being a fashion diva, I immediately noted Clarence’s preferred style.

Many of the remaining suits were of the same Edwardian elegance we’d seen him wear the night he was attacked.

Others were modern, recognizable brands I couldn’t afford.

Above the clothing rack was a high shelf and fabric-covered storage boxes. A few lids had been knocked aside. Either Clarence had rummaged through them while packing, or his determined company had disturbed the contents.

I pulled one down and peeked inside. Leather belts—neatly rolled—suspenders of various styles, bow ties, and scarves.

Nothing important. I replaced it and tried the next one over, discovering wooden boxes filled with tie pins and cuff links, pocket watches and regular watches, along with various bits of jewelry.

The third container held framed photographs. Most were of the same woman. Mid-thirties. Luscious golden hair that cascaded in waves over her slim shoulders. Salacious dark eyes. Full lips.

In two of the pictures, she posed with Clarence at her side.

Their affection and chemistry were unmistakable.

One of them showed the couple on a stone bridge overlooking a waterway.

The distinct scenery suggested it was taken in a different country, although I couldn’t tell where.

The ancient stone buildings dated back to a time long before America was discovered.

Somewhere in Europe, I assumed. The other showed the couple dressed in finery and toasting with champagne.

The backdrop could have been the interior of a castle.

On closer inspection, I noticed matching wedding bands. Husband and wife?

Pondering, I carried the box of framed photos with me into the sparsely decorated bedroom. The walls were bare. No pictures on the dresser or end tables. No personal touches.

I set the box down and checked inside the drawers of the end tables.

The usual collection of items resided inside.

Tissues. Pens. Notebooks. Loose change. Nothing specific to a woman.

No perfume. No hair ties. No distinctly feminine jewelry.

Not that a lack of evidence was conclusive, but it was noteworthy.

I returned to the closet, logging the clothing that remained. It was distinctly masculine. Curious, I removed one of the pictures of the woman and disassembled the frame. On the back, someone had scrawled a name and the date. Janessa. August 2021 .

I did the same with the rest of the photographs. Only one other was marked with information. Honeymoon in Italy. May 2024.

I carried the collection of photos to the living room and performed a similar inspection of the walls and décor before reaching a plausible conclusion.

“Hey, D?”

He grunted from where he disassembled a kitchen junk drawer.

“Clarence was married to a woman named Janessa in May of 2024.”

Diem paused what he was doing, gaze shifting left and right as he seemed to take it in. “Okay. And? ”

“And he has a box of pictures in the bedroom closet, but there’s nothing in the apartment to indicate a woman lives here or that he even shares with anyone. This is a bachelor’s pad. It lacks character or personality.”

Diem turned introspective as he scanned the apartment. “So they broke up?”

“That’s what I figure, but maybe she knows how to get hold of him. We have a name and photographs. That’s enough for you to find her, isn’t it?”

“Probably.” He held out a hand, and I gave him one of the pictures of the couple.

“He could be hiding out at her place, assuming their relationship ended amicably.”

Diem scowled at the image, absently nodding. He returned the picture and resumed his search.

“Did you find anything?”

He tapped a battered notebook that he had set aside.

“Clarence kept a detailed list of all his passwords. No laptop or computer that I can find, but…” He plucked a paper from beside the notebook and showed me.

“I found a bank statement, too. The account and branch are listed on the form. I’ll be able to log into his bank account once I get to the office. ”

It was solid. If Clarence had any unusual spending habits or made recent purchases, it could help us locate him.

After another twenty minutes of searching, we called it a night.

Diem collected a few bits of paperwork that seemed to interest him and instructed me to grab the box of photos and mementos that gave hints about Clarence’s wife. We descended the stairs to the first level and exited the main doors .

It was after one, and the street was quiet. As we wandered back to the Jeep, I caught Diem checking inside parked cars and between buildings. Alert, body taut and ready.

He had dismissed the man in plain view, who sat on a concrete dividing wall immediately outside the complex with his glittery gold Converse-covered feet kicked up as he scrolled on his phone and smoked a cigarette. To Diem, he must have been a nobody resident, having a puff before heading to bed.

I knew better, and as we walked past him, the man glanced up. For the first time, our gazes clashed, and he knew that I knew.