Page 7 of Exhale (Out for Justice #8)
The following morning…
T he morning had turned out to be nice, Jordan thought. Although that didn’t stop him from feeling shy about the kiss last night.
Owen smiled at him when Jordan stepped out of his room.
Owen looked all sexy wearing a tight gray t-shirt, distressed blue jeans, along with black chunky combat boots. Good god, Owen should be illegal.
“Let’s grab breakfast in the lobby,” Owen said, running his eyes over him, and Jordan flushed.
He’d taken care with his appearance today. The product in his hair had his dark curls falling artfully. The blue button-down dress shirt matched his eyes, and the jeans were just as distressed as Owen’s were. The only difference was his Row grosgrain-trimmed gray canvas sneakers
“Continental?” Jordan suggested, his stomach growling.
“Mhmm.” Owen seemed to reluctantly drag his gaze away, and Jordan’s heart fluttered.
Okay, to be honest, his heart had been fluttering since the good morning text from Owen an hour ago.
They grabbed coffee and food before sitting at a nearby table in the hotel area designed for the breakfast crowd.
Jordan noticed a few women checking Owen out. Owen really was beautiful, and Jordan couldn’t help but smirk at the women.
Keep looking, ladies , he’s mine , he thought with a satisfied smile.
Yeah, okay, Owen wasn’t technically his, but they were together on this job, and that was what counted.
Owen smirked at him with a knowing look, and Jordan felt his face heat.
Damn it…he needed to get a grip.
Owen knew nothing about his past, and he needed to come clean and soon, but not yet.
He wanted to enjoy this while it lasted.
“So, what’s the plan today?”
“Today, we go by Ginny’s apartment and see if we can find anything that will lead us to her killer.”
“Okay, and the cops?” Jordan asked.
“I got a text from Ace this morning, we have the all clear.”
“Sweet. If she had a computer, I could get into that.”
“Whatever you can find. I want this bastard caught.”
Jordan reached out and touched the top of Owen’s hand with his. The next thing he knew, Owen turned his hand over, palm up, and closed fingers around his.
“We’ll get him,” Jordan breathed.
Owen pulled up in front of a shabby-looking apartment building.
The place was rundown, but it was fully occupied—if the number of cars and people coming in and out of the parking lot and building were any indication.
Together, they entered the open main entrance. The walkway into the apartment building was a combination of chipped paint and stained concrete. The hallway’s musky smell only added to the dumpy ambiance.
The unkempt state of the place didn’t bother Jordan because he had lived in far worse. Much, much worse. For months, he’d lived in a cardboard box before he graduated to a tent left to him by old man Carl, who’d died from the weather one cold Oakland night.
“It’s this one,” Owen said, approaching the apartment on the bottom floor.
Jordan shook off the thoughts of the past and followed.
When Owen pulled his gun, Jordan looked quickly around.
An ultra-thin woman in a baggy hoodie and frayed jeans stumbled past them, not even giving Owen’s weapon a second glance. Jordan imagined she was probably used to it.
The open doorway was covered with a stretch of yellow crime tape, and murmurs of voices could be heard within.
The sound of a cop’s radio went off from inside.
Jordan reached out and placed his hand over Owen’s gun arm and pushed it down.
“It’s law enforcement,” he said.
Owen squinted at him and tucked the nine-millimeter away.
Ducking beneath the yellow tape, Owen entered with Jordan on the man’s six. The place smelled of mold and rotten food.
Owen had his Pegasus badge out and ready when both cops turned their way. Jordan’s was hanging on a chain around his neck.
The cops looked like plainclothes policemen from their wrinkled slacks, dress shirts, and badges hanging from lanyards around their necks.
One cop who looked to be in his thirties stepped toward them, took a look at Owen’s badge, and held out his hand.
“I heard you guys were coming,” the cop said. “I’m Detective Preston, and this is Detective Knoll.
“We spoke on the phone,” Knoll said.
“Yes,” Owen said to Knoll with a nod. “What did the fire marshal say?” Owen continued getting down to business while tucking away his Pegasus badge.
“It was arson; both women were killed before the fire.”
“How so?” Jordan said.
“Their bodies weren’t completely burned. The ME identified that Miss Barnes was strangled shortly before Mrs. Long-Gray had her throat slit,” Preston said.
“No signs of struggle here,” Knoll added.
“It’s like the attacker was in the middle of robbing Miss Barnes, and maybe Mrs. Long-Gray interrupted him.”
“Maybe…” Owen murmured.
“Well…we’ll leave you guys to do your thing. We’re going to canvas the area and grab a smoke,” Preston said, heading for the door with Knoll on his ass.
“You’re the only one who smokes,” Knoll bitched as the pair walked out the door.
Jordan snorted and turned back to Owen, who was already on his way to the kitchen. Owen tripped over something on the floor, and it rattled and rolled.
Jordan frowned down at the red and blue toy train.
Owen reached the kitchen and stood in the doorway for so long that Jordan grew curious.
Approaching and standing at Owen’s side, he ran his eyes over the dirty countertops, dishes, and…colorful plastic cups. Something a child would drink out of.
Jordan’s attention snapped back to the living room, taking in the toy train and then the brightly colored plastic blocks plus numerous different colored small cars, a dump truck, and children’s cardboard books in a play corner.
Jordan jolted. Did Owen have kids and hadn’t told him? No, that didn’t make sense. There was no way Owen would have been this calm if he had kids involved.
“She had kids,” Jordan murmured.
“No, she didn’t,” Owen said.
“Maybe she babysat for money?” Jordan said, walking back into the living room.
Turning down the hallway, he opened the closest bedroom door. Two unmade bunk beds with a dresser and a lamp were inside, along with children’s clothes and more toys strewn about.
Owen walked past him to the last room and opened the door. Jordan backed out of the kids’ room and followed.
“Preston was right,” Jordan murmured. “No signs of a struggle. So, whatever happened must have started at Miss Barnes’ house.”
“Yeah, let’s start looking through Ginny’s mail. Can you check her computer?” Owen asked.
“I’m on it.” Jordan nodded on his way back down the hallway. “If there is a computer…” his voice trailed off.
Pictures on the wall caught his attention, and he found the hallway light and flipped it on.
Photos of Ginny with various people lined the wall. Jordan found a photo of Ginny with Owen, and a lump grew in his throat. They looked good together, happy…and he wondered what had happened.
Owen sucked in a quick breath, so startling that Jordan pulled his gun.
No perp had entered, so he tucked it away.
Owen stood frowning at one of the photos.
“Owen?” Jordan called gruffly, but the man continued gazing at a photo on the wall.
Walking closer, Jordan took in the photo.
Ginny was holding two babies in her arms. They looked to be less than a year old.
“So…How long ago did you divorce?”
“About five and a half years ago.”
“Ah okay, so she met someone and had kids a few years ago.”
“Maybe,” Owen murmured and lifted the photo from the wall. He took the picture out of it and dropped the frame and glass to the floor.
Jordan took the picture of Owen and Ginny from the wall and removed it from the frame along with a picture of Owen holding a huge fish at a lake.
“Why are you taking those?”
“We may need it.”
“Technically, everything in here is evidence,” Owen pointed out.
“I’m exempt.” Jordan gave a cheeky grin, and Owen rolled his eyes.
Besides, these pictures were part of Owen’s past, and the man might want to hang onto them. Jordan would keep them safe until then.
“Where are her kids?” Owen squinted down at the picture of the boys.
“The cops didn’t say anything about them at the scene,” Jordan said and then grimaced. “They might have died in the fire.”
“That’s a possibility. I’ll call Detective Knoll, you search for her laptop,” Owen said.
Jordan nodded and ended up in the living room. The place was a freaking mess, and in truth, he wasn’t sure where the hell to even start.